The veteran is not dead, but he is slowly dying. The tough guy Tucker is likely to retire next season

On June 4, in the NBA's youthful and energetic league, time is the most ruthless opponent. When the smoke of the 2024-25 season gradually dissipates, a familiar figure may quietly bid farewell to the arena - PJ Tucker. This 38-year-old tough guy interprets what it means to use his 15-year career. "The veteran does not die, but just slowly witheres." From the DL undraft to the championship puzzle, Tucker's story is an epic of tenacity, and when he walks to the end of his career with scars, the cruel reality of the league is like the cold wind of winter: no team will reserve a place for the 39-year-old veteran, even if he is the hardest soul in the locker room ever. Tucker's career began with the 57th pick in the second round of the Raptors in 2006, an almost forgotten draft pick foreshadowed that he had to work ten times more hard to gain a foothold. During his wandering years in the Development League and the European League, he polished two unique skills to make a living: a gummy defense and a three-pointer arrow in the corner. When he returned to the NBA in 2012, the 27-year-old "older rookie" had already faded. The Suns' training hall recorded his sweat of 500 base corner three-pointers every day. This paranoia later became his passport to the league. Joining the Rockets in 2017 was a turning point in his career. Under D'Antoni's magic ball system, Tucker, who was only 1.96 meters tall, was pushed to the center position, forming the core lineup of "Death Five Smalls" with Harden and Paul. In those years, he had to fight against the giants who were 10 cm taller than him every night. In the seven games between the Western Conference Finals and the Warriors in 2018, he averaged 8.6 rebounds per game (including 3.4 frontcourt rebounds) and built Houston's no-fly zone with his flesh and blood.

What really made Tucker a top role player is his ability to sublimate blue-collar work into art. In the 2021 Bucks' championship journey, he defended Durant, Trae Young and Booker one after another. At the critical moment of G6 in the finals, it was his death entanglement with Paul that led to a counterattack. After moving to the Heat, Spoelstra called him "the decisive needle in the locker room". In the first round of the 2023 playoffs, Tucker, 38, volunteered to defend Antetokounmpo when Butler was absent, and used his calloused hands to tear out the first crack of the Black Eight Miracle. These pictures have accumulated into the most precious memories of the modern NBA - in this era of offense, some people are still willing to fight off two front teeth for one defense.

But the metabolic laws of professional sports never give in to feelings. Last season in the Clippers, Tucker's condition showed a cliff-like decline: his three-point shooting percentage fell to 27% (the lowest in his career), and his defensive efficiency dropped to 112.3 (downstream of the league). What's more fatal is that modern basketball's requirements for space strikers are no longer just to guard the bottom corner, but to change the elasticity and assist in defense speed have become a necessity. These are exactly tasks that are difficult to bear with the elderly legs. Salary expert Bobby Max analyzed: "Tuck will enter the decision period for the $11.5 million player option next season, but it is difficult for any team in the market to sign a 39-year-old veteran with a middle-class special case, even if he has three championship rings. "The Clippers revealed that the team plans to use extended terms to cut Tucker, which may be a cruel but decent way to break up.

When we look back at the fate of veterans like Tucker, we will find that the evolution of the NBA is accelerating the elimination cycle of role players. Ten years ago, Sean Bathir and Bruce Bowen were still popular after the age of 35 because they only had to focus on a single skill; now the league requires every player to have multiple skill packages. The 37-year-old Tucker was shot by a young man in one step last season when he switched to Morant. This contrast reflects the changes in basketball philosophy: when data analysis quantifies each defensive round into expected points loss, coaches can no longer leave room for fault tolerance for "spiritual attributes".

But the legacy left by the Tuckers is much deeper than the data. During the 76ers period, he went to the stadium two hours in advance to practice the bottom corner three-pointer, which directly affected Maxi's professional attitude; Heat young player Caleb Martin said: "PJ taught me how to win respect with defense, which is more precious than any shooting teaching." Perhaps this is the cycle of competitive sports - when veterans like Tucker withered, their spirit has turned into a part of the genes of young players. As Popovich said when commenting on Duncan's retirement: "Great players never really leave, they just become basketball itself. "

Standing at the time node of the summer of 2025, we may be witnessing the curtain call of the last generation of "pure blue collar". In this era of emphasizing position blur, Tucker-like specialists may not appear in the future, but whenever we see a undrafted pick in the Development League to practice three-pointers in the bottom corner, or a player flew to grab the floor in the playoffs, the mark left by Tucker's heavily worn boots will be looming. His career has no MVP trophy, but it perfectly interprets the most primitive romance of basketball: not everyone can be the protagonist, but everyone can become a footnote to the legend. When the lights of the Toyota Center illuminate for him for the last time, and when his name is engraved on the Heat cultural wall of the American Airlines Center, these moments will remind us that some withering is actually the most magnificent bloom.