Nobody wants your ****ing sheep
A note to a few NBA GMs

You’ve likely heard of The Settlers of Catan, the wildly popular German board game that serves as most people’s introduction to more complex table gaming options.
The game itself has plenty of nuance (particularly if you layer in the expansions), but it is, at its heart, about resource management. Catan goes thusly: Every player picks a couple of spots on a hex map to be their starting settlements. Each hexagon has a number (2-12) and gives one of five resources. A player rolls two dice to start every turn, and anyone who borders hexes with the resulting number gets to collect the corresponding resource. You can then use those resources to build out your empire, earning victory points.
No player has consistent access to every resource. Trading, then, becomes an important part of the game. Players have to carefully manage their own scarcities while finding buyers for whatever they have in abundance.
But not all resources are equally available, nor are they equally valuable at the same time. Timber and bricks are helpful in the beginning, as players try to lay out roads and expand their nation, while stone and wheat are necessary to build bigger cities in the mid and endgames.
Then, there are sheep.
Sheep have a purpose, but the tiles that grant them are plentiful, and they aren’t quite as essential to most1 strategies as the other four resources. In base Catan, they are often considered the least valuable of their cohort.
There’s always one player desperate to unload their sheep. In the beginning, sheep can be helpful, so they might find a taker or two. But with some exceptions, sheep tend to become less valuable over time, leading the poor herder to start offering up their sheep for lower and lower values, desperate to get something, anything back in return.
Frankly, that person becomes annoying. The common Catan refrain? “Nobody wants your f****** sheep!”
You can even buy PG-rated shirts proclaiming your hatred of the ovine kind on Amazon! This is a real thing!
As the national media breathlessly reports every micro-update on the potentially forthcoming trades of Ja Morant, Anthony Davis, and Jonathan Kuminga, I’ve got a memo for the front offices of the Grizzlies, Mavericks, and Warriors: Sorry, but nobody wants your f******sheep.
The vast majority of NBA teams are finally wising up to the idea that players, even All-Stars, simply can’t have glaring weaknesses anymore if they want to contend at a high level.
Trae Young was the first domino to fall. Young is a four-time All-Star and former All-NBAer, square in the middle of his prime. Despite that, and years of proof that he could orchestrate an excellent regular-season offense, there weren’t many teams clamoring for him.
Why? He’s mutton. The NBA playoffs now devour tasty, diminutive guards who can’t defend, and Young’s particular brand of offense kept sputtering out when the Hawks needed it most. The Wizards treated him thusly, sending out just broadcaster-in-waiting (and expiring contract) CJ McCollum and a decent rotation shooter in Corey Kispert. No draft picks, no prospects. Some people around the league hinted that the Hawks were relieved they didn’t have to attach anything to Young.
That sounds crazy. Even crazier, there’s a strong chance Young doesn’t generate the worst return this trade season.
Let’s look at Ja Morant. This section brings me no joy, as Morant was perhaps my favorite non-Jokic watch of the early 2020s. But whatever he was then, now, Morant is a small guard who can’t defend, can’t shoot, can’t stay healthy, won’t dunk anymore, and brings a whole host of off-court and on-court baggage. He’s a hard fit on any team and, given how much money he’s owed, an impossible one for some.
After reportedly saying he was done playing for the Grizzlies (besides in London this weekend, which coincidentally was also the site of a major shoe event for Ja — perhaps Nike called in and told Morant he’d better show up?), Morant started flipping his hair, trying to catch the eye of Pat Riley from across the bar. He even bought a home in Miami, which you could easily read as an effort to vision-board a trade to the Heat.
Instead, Riley and all other would-be suitors have pointedly stared at their drinks without looking up. There isn’t a market for a guy owed almost $90 million over the next two seasons who can’t stay on the court and has just one playoff series victory to his name. (Not to mention Miami currently employs the coach and runs the offense Morant hated last year.)
Now, Ja is suddenly bleating about his Memphis tattoo and touting his loyalty to the club. A glimpse of wool in the mirror might’ve scared him straight, or at least convinced him he needs to prove he’s still got something if he wants to find a trade partner.
Let’s jump to the livestock ranges of the Southwest. Anthony Davis’ case is well-known at this point. The fragile big man, who turns 33 in the spring, can’t shoot and is also fat now (which, to be fair, stemmed from an offseason eye injury that severely limited his ability to do physical activity). Sound appealing? Didn’t think so.
Davis, more than the others we’re talking about, is the most likely to theoretically help a team advance in the playoffs. When ambulatory, he can still defend, and the lack of an outside shot isn’t a death sentence for a big man. But he’s also owed the literal GDP of Tuvalu in each of the next two years (the last of which is a player option). Perhaps he could be a missing piece for someone, but missing things is sort of his problem. Logistically, the contenders can’t afford him, and younger, worse teams don’t want to give up future assets for a guy who could very well become the league’s most expensive albatross. Or, uh, sheep.2
Kuminga’s case is the weirdest. It’s also the one we know the most about and the one that has become the most tiresome. Athletic, talented young bucket-getter who doesn’t realize that inefficient 20-point scoring isn’t the paved road to endless riches that it used to be. Kuminga believes in an outdated path to greatness. At times, the still-just-23-year-old has flashed strong on-ball defense and the hint of an outside shot, but then those flashes disappear, and you’re left seeing spots and DNPs.
Coach Steve Kerr and the Warriors did him no favors. He also didn’t develop in the ways he needed to. Now, a divorce would be best for both sides, but they’re realizing something: Ain’t nobody answering doors for the traveling sheep salesman anymore.
Especially at such a price! All three of these players (four, including Young) want new, big-money contracts, but none are likely to earn that keep. It used to be that raw points per game and some pretty highlights were enough to set you up with rich contracts for life, but those days are gone. The league demands depth, youth, athleticism, availability, and shooting now, or at least reasonable facsimiles of each. The dreaded aprons leave no room for big-money mistakes. Even the richest teams don’t have the margin for error they once did.
None of these players is hopeless. Morant reminded us what he can do when motivated in his electric London return, dominating the game with a 20/10 effort before halftime. The Mavericks are a .500 team with Davis and a .333 team without him. Kuminga looked unstoppable against the Timberwolves’ elite playoff defense just months ago. If any of the three move, they’ll likely put up big regular-season numbers. There’s a chance, however remote, that any or all are still wolves in sheep’s clothing.3
But teams are less interested in upside and more frightened by downside than ever before. There are reasons why Morant, Davis, and Kuminga’s current employers are brushing their coats and preparing them for auction. Eagerness to sell is a warning sign in itself.
(News broke just a few hours ago that Jimmy Butler is out for the season with a torn ACL. That definitely changes the calculus for the Warriors, who suddenly find themselves in desperate need of Kuminga’s scoring punch. I’m not sure it changes the calculus for Kuminga, who already demanded a trade and probably should still want one.)
Young’s trade weeks ago should set expectations. Maybe, just maybe, one of the league’s few remaining misguided teams is willing to part with valuable resources for some herd animals.
But I wouldn’t hold my breath.
I know someone’s about to Well, actually… me with something about ports or development cards, but save it. There are plenty of use cases for sheep, but if you played 1,000 games of basic Catan, sheep are the least useful for most players in the majority of them.
C’mon, metaphor, I only need you to hang in here for a few more paragraphs! Get it together!
Nailed the landing, hell yeah!


Trae, Ja, Lamelo are the true sheep - defensively liable point guards. Sometimes useful, but the market is glutted with too many and not that many teams need them for their strategy anyway.
Kuminga and Davis are unreliable/overpaid versions of things that are in high demand - athletic wings and defensive anchors. Idk what the Catan comparison is... Gaining the resource but it puts you over 7 with a whole time round the table before your turn?
Brilliant analogy with the Catan sheep metaphor. The shift from valuing raw scoring to demanding two-way competence feels like it happend overnight in the league. I remeber when my fantasy team suffered becuase I held onto one-dimensional scorers too long, same exact logic applies to GMs now. Teams can't afford roster sheep when every playoff possession demands versatility.