This is an emotion I didn't think I'd come across given the context, and I'm curious as to whether or not you're right there with me. 

On Monday, the Celtics waived Darius Miles. And though I'm not a Celtic backer, nor a larger than average Miles fan, I'm a bit letdown by it. Bummed, even.

You see, while I do harbor rooting interest for a particular Central Division also-ran in red and black, I am a pro basketball fan first and foremost. What some might see as either negative or positive bias thrown in the direction of a certain player or team is just me exhorting that particular individual or franchise to do their absolute best. To give me a team worth watching at its peak (or, at its eventual peak after a intelligent rebuilding design) when I plop down on the couch and watch a game or 10 from Halloween until late June.

When I criticize a player for not taking it to post enough, it's not because of some inherent dislike of the player, it's likely stemming from the fact that the player in question needs to take it to the post. And if I bore you by begging for some team to quit with trying to win 42 games and just start the rebuilding process, it's probably because it's the right thing to do. And not because I hate the team's colors or Ricky Davis or something.

So when the Boston Celtics signed Darius Miles to a make-good a few months ago, I was moderately ticked. Not because it was Boston, this wasn't a case of "haven't they got enough already?", mind you, but because I think all big hoops junkies are quite smitten with Portland's rebuilding plan. We were very fond of it even before the team picked up Greg Oden, and any room for growth around the team's young core involves Miles and his oversized contract.

Or, ex-contract. He still gets the money he signed for, but because of a lingering injury, doctors rules Miles as unfit to play earlier this year (nearing the end of his second full season on the pine). A year after the medical ruling, insurance will pick up the deal, and the contract then comes off Portland's cap. This aids the Blazers in adding to their formidable young nucleus due to cap space glommed from Miles and Raef LaFrentz' expiring deals, allowing the team to sign a free agent or three.

Unless Miles still wanted to play.

For another team, of course, and for ten games. The guy plays ten games, for whatever team, whenever, and the money goes right back on Portland's salary cap books. Understand that this has nothing to do with the team's financial picture overall, but it would affect the amount the team could spend under the NBA salary cap bylaws. And the ten game rule, it's a good thing. It seemed like a buzzkill for a while, especially when it seemed likely that Miles might play ten games for the C's, but it's needed to prevent tomfoolery.

And if you know Kelly Dwyer, then you know he does not cotton to tomfoolery.

That's not going to be an issue now, because the Celtics decided to cut Miles on Monday. And I went from worrying from afar about a potential wrench thrown into Portland's best-laid plans to ... relief, right?

Hardly.

I don't feel like I was cut from the Celtics, or that some ancient hoops hero of mine has had his ankles taped for the last time, but part of me really wanted Miles to make the team. And the weird thing is, I didn't know part of me wanted this while Miles was, y'know, trying to make the team. I didn't get that pang until the news came down that the cat was cut.

Most of us likely gave up on Miles years ago, and with good reason. The guy never really seemed to enjoy the game, no crime in that, but he also paired that non-infraction with a ridiculous contract, a nasty war of words with former Blazers coach Mo Cheeks, and a strain of insouciance that still left many observers still hoping for the best from this guy.

All the signs were there, to the non-fans, at least. I still remember getting into it with Portland fans on TrueHoop about three years ago, and if memory serves, I may (may!) have said something about doing horrible things to my fist on public access TV (this was before YouTube, ‘natch) if a team led by Miles and Zach Randolph ever won 55 games.

It may have been 50.

Doesn't matter. Miles has long been an afterthought with me, starting with his second go-round in 2001-02, a season that saw him seemingly do nothing to build on what was a promising (for his age) rookie year.

That's the mindset. So why the sadness? Portland gets its flexibility, which we wanted all along. Miles got his chance. Two weeks ago I got to witness a press row full of scribes giving a double-take to a recently updated Boston box score that saw Darius seemingly get off on the right foot in limited minutes. Everything's as good as it possibly could be, and yet I'm left wanting.

I guess, in the end, I didn't give up on the guy. I guess two (potential) retirements by the age of 27 (and he just turned 27) isn't enough. My reaction to seeing the news of the transaction on the ticker was met with the same reaction I involuntarily offer when some octogenarian ballplayer's death crawls across the wire. A sad little "ohh," followed by a tinge of regret and melancholy. Darius Miles? The fist-head guy?

Pardon all the "I"s, but I didn't feel this way when Jonathan Bender retired. And he was the first guy in the NBA that was actually younger than me. Back in 1999, that was kind of creepy, and it drew attention from your humbled narrator. And Bender worked at his game. He tried. He was the anti-Miles with even worse results, and yet his early retirement didn't bum me out.

But here I am, a day after seeing the news about Miles, and it still stinks. I guess that when you take to a sober assessment of a guy's prospects a few years before you probably should, even if you end up being correct in the end, you repress something that really shouldn't be held in check.

There will be more and more chances to "get it right" as the years move along, those opportunities will always be there. But blindly falling for a player's potential? Even when you know that it's not going to work? When it's not going to end right? That's to be cherished. That's not something you want to give a miss.

The season starts in a week. Don't think I haven't learned from this.