In a strange recurring daydream, I'm riding in a car in downtown Minneapolis with Ricky Rubio and a couple of his friends, on the way to what promises to be an amazing night on the town. Through a series of wrong turns, frustrating construction delays and one-way streets, we are making no progress. The trip started at Target Center, and after 30 minutes we pull up once again to 600 First Avenue.
Rubio, who has been singing along to the radio and telling stories, keeping everyone cheerful and generally unaware of the lack of progress, suddenly looks out his window and sees Target Center. His wide eyes narrow and he says with accented exasperation, "Guys, we're right back where we started. What is going on here?"
Before you start the psychoanalysis, I'll try to beat you to the punch: This daydream is rooted in two facts: 1) even as a member of the media, I think it would be cool to just ride around in car with Rubio because he seems like a genuinely fun and nice person I'd like to get to know better. 2) Because I'm a writer, I've imagined a scenario that would make the perfect opening paragraph to a story about Rubio. Like the fictional Rubio in the car making no progress and winding up back at Target Center, the basketball version of real-life Rubio has spent the past six years doing the same thing.
On June 20, 2011 — almost exactly six years ago — Rubio arrived at the Minneapolis-St. Paul Airport to a scene befitting a rock star. He had been drafted by the Wolves with the No. 5 overall pick almost exactly two years before that — June 25, 2009 — as a precocious 18-year-old from Spain. He represented so many things for a franchise that had been through so much losing, but the one-word crystallization of all of it was "hope."
Rubio was hailed as a potential franchise savior. He was a marketer's dream with his charming accent and youthful exuberance. And he had the most intoxicating allure of all: He was mysterious. Nobody knew what to expect.
We know now, of course, how the eight years since he was drafted have played out. Rubio has carved out one of the most complicated legacies of any local athlete in recent memory. Many fans still adore him, but opinions have also calcified around his shortcomings. Rubio still plays with flair and dazzles with his passes, but six years — and no playoff appearances — seem to have taken a piece of him with them.
He is still young, at age 26, and should be entering his basketball prime. But on this version of the Wolves, he's a veteran — and one at something of a career crossroads.
His career has been plagued by injuries and inconsistent performance, but Rubio has also been saddled with constant rebuilding projects. He played some of the best basketball of his career at the end of last season, but head coach and personnel boss Tom Thibodeau seems to have hand-picked Kris Dunn as Rubio's potential successor after choosing Dunn with the No. 5 overall pick in 2016. Is Rubio the point guard of the future or the past? Will he be traded — as has so often been rumored — and could that happen as soon as this week during the NBA Draft?