First and foremost, I appreciate everyone who read past the headline. This season has definitely proven any not-so-positive conversation about Dwyane Wade – even those that aren’t necessarily negative – can quickly turn into a touchy subject.

I’ve been battling people in my mentions on Wade-related topics all year. Specifically, the notion that I don’t like Wade. I’ve disagreed for most of the year, but I feel like I’ve reached some sort of epiphany.

@NekiasNBA why do you hate Dwyane?

— Sam Bookah Black (@Alf954) March 25, 2016

And, you wanna’ know what? I probably do hate Dwyane Wade now, but not in the traditional way you’d come to expect. Dedicating that much energy on someone who doesn’t even know you’re alive is both stupid and unhealthy.

However, in a completely selfish way, I hate Dwyane Wade for one reason and one reason only: He has made this season the most difficult one of my writing career.

It’s hard enough to tiptoe the line of objectivity when covering your favorite team. You can’t just be a fan. If someone’s having a bad stretch of games, or if there’s a disturbing trend (think Miami in the third quarter), then the onus is on me to point it out.

But, for the sake of pandering your audience, you can’t necessarily be TOO negative in fear of losing them – even if the numbers do back that up. Nobody on the Heat roster has been a better embodiment of that dynamic than Wade this year, and the only player that has come close is Hassan Whiteside.

On the surface, some will see Wade’s base averages – 19.1 points, 4.7 assists, 4.1 rebounds, 51.6 true shooting percentage – and applaud him, as they should, to an extent.

At this pace, Wade would become the 13th player, and the fifth guard, in NBA history to average at least 19-4-4 with a true shooting percentage of 50 or higher at age 34 or older, joining legends like Wilt Chamberlain, Larry Bird, Kobe Bryant, Elgin Baylor and Karl Malone on that list. That’s legitimately impressive.

And when Wade has things going, he can perform like a top-ten player on any given night, just like he did against Brooklyn last night with a 30-point, nine-assist, two-block performance:

Of course, there’s the other side to that equation.

Despite his averages, the Heat don’t skip a beat offensively when Wade is on the bench. Their offensive rating with Wade off the court is 106.3, compared to 106.4 with Wade playing.

The Heat are nearly as efficient, as well. Their effective field goal percentage (eFG%) is 50.8 with Wade on the court versus 50.5 with him off, plus their ball movement improves too.

Miami’s assist and turnover percentages are 56.7 and 14.6 with Wade off the court, compared to 53.9 and 15.5 with Wade playing, via Basketball-Reference.com.

And despite the occasional weak side block and his ability to play the passing lanes, this has probably been the worst defensive year of Wade’s career; which unsurprisingly, the Heat have been 6.1 points per 100 possessions better defensively with Wade off the court.

On a general note, there’s always a bit of noise surrounding on/off-court numbers because who a player plays with on the floor and who they’re replaced by when they’re on the bench can affect the numbers.

Even with those caveats, it’s still fair to point out that Wade hasn’t been as good as his counting stats may indicate. That, plus Miami’s financial commitment to Goran Dragic and their eventual commitment to Whiteside, make Wade’s impending free agency an interesting case.

This would be a pretty straightforward conversation if it were about any ordinary player who posted good numbers, but played a style that didn’t necessarily fit the rest of the team’s roster and was a minus on defense. You’d look to bring the guy back at a reasonable price, maybe as a sixth man, or let him walk and bring in a replacement level player who compliments better.

But this is Dwyane freakin’ Wade we’re talking about.

This is the third or fourth best shooting guard of all-time, a top 35 player of all-time and unquestionably the greatest player in franchise history we’re talking about. This is the man responsible for one of the greatest four-game stretches in NBA Finals history.

Personally, this is a man I grew up watching – heck, grew up with – transform from a baby-faced bundle of fun into a grizzled vet with an old-man game older than most old men.

I watched him transform a jumper flatter than month-old soda into what is now one of the best mid-range weapons in the league.

I watched him go from boy-wonder to an unquestioned alpha, only to swallow his pride and shift into a beta role to make LeBron James more comfortable during the Big Three era.

Wade made my childhood more fun. His jersey was the first one that was bought for me that I actually wanted; the first three I received: a Warriors Antawn Jamison jersey, a Bobcats Sean May jersey and a ‘Cavs LeBron James jersey.

And my fondest memory of Wade isn’t even from a real basketball court. It came from the virtual courts of NBA Live ’07 on my original Xbox.

Source: NBA-Live.com

I spent hours upon hours abusing opponents with Wade at the point, donning a headband, a new jersey number (No.1, because #OfCourse) and every signature style skill you could think of (minus the sharpshooter one, because again … #OfCourse). This man was an absolute terror.

I was dunking on fools, dishing no-look passes, and, once we scored, I used that ridiculous inbounds steal glitch to dunk on more fools and dish out even more no-look passes.

He. Was. So. Much. Fun. And that’s partly why I hate him now.

Of course, I don’t REALLY hate him, but I hate how difficult this season has been for me to watch him.

Because for every vintage block, random dunk, or pump fake some wet-behind-the-ears wing has fallen for that brings back some of the same joy Wade added to my childhood, there’s a blown defensive assignment, a turnover, or an isolation possession that ends with a contested jumper and Dragic standing in the corner watching what my older, objective, employed self just can’t ignore.

So, when the summer rolls around and Wade wants a new deal, and likely a lucrative one, I will feel even more conflicted than I do now. My heart will want Wade back by any means necessary, but I won’t pretend that would be smart.

Because the actual “smart” move might be for Miami to let Wade walk in favor of a cheaper wing who can shoot 3’s, defend and run with the Dragon (🐲).

Although, that’s essentially asking to get rid of not only a Miami staple but one of the staples of my childhood and millions of others.

This, the internal conflict, is why I hate Dwyane Wade.

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