The Bucks are dead. Long live the Bucks. Players come and go. The team is the thing that lasts. It's the deal every one of us signs up for, whether we know it or not. You get your window to be the man and you try to give the city everything you've got while you're there. Eventually though, somebody else comes along to take your place. I came up in the league what guys like Glenn Robinson and Ray Allen meant to Milwaukee. Later on I got a little run of my own there, and down the road I watched younger guys like Brandon Jennings get their shot too. Now, I don't belong in the same breath as a lot of these names, especially not the one we're talking about today, but for the sake of making my point I'll include myself. Every one of us mattered to Milwaukee for a stretch. And every one of us got moved, got old, or got left behind when the team decided it was time. No shame in it. The name on the front of the jersey will always outlive the name on the back. What Giannis did in Milwaukee speaks for itself. He brought a title to a city that waited 50 years for one. Two MVPs. Defensive Player of the Year. He stuck around when plenty of guys his size would've pushed their way out a lot sooner, and he gave that place everything he had for more than ten years. One of the greatest to ever wear that incredible Bucks jersey. But the page always turns. It turned on Kareem all those years ago, it turned on me and the fellas I played alongside, and now here it is turning on Giannis too. It's just time, for both sides, to get the next chapter started. Thank you, Giannis. For the championship, for the memories, and for repping Milwaukee the right way. The Bucks are dead. Long live the Bucks.