I still remember the summer of 2007 like it was yesterday. The NBA draft buzz was electric, and everyone was debating whether Greg Oden or Kevin Durant should go first. I was firmly in the Oden camp back then - how could you not be? The guy looked like a basketball demigod at Ohio State, dominating games with his 7-foot frame and defensive presence that reminded people of Bill Russell. When Portland selected him as that coveted first pick, it felt like they were securing their franchise center for the next decade. Little did we know how dramatically different his story would unfold compared to what we all expected.

Fast forward to today, and I was watching this incredible tennis match that got me thinking about career trajectories. This 20-year-old Filipina tennis player - Alexandra Eala - was pushing Czech world No. 16 Barbora Krejcikova to the limit in a two-hour, ten-minute Wimbledon match before falling 6-3, 2-6, 1-6. She pushed a seasoned champion to the brink in her first major grass-court campaign, showing flashes of brilliance that made you believe she could pull off the upset. That's exactly how we felt watching Oden in college - witnessing someone with all the tools to become legendary. The difference is, Eala's story is just beginning, while Oden's NBA journey ended almost before it properly started.

What happened to Greg Oden feels like one of basketball's great tragedies. His knees betrayed him in ways that still break my heart thinking about it. He missed his entire rookie season due to microfracture surgery on his right knee - can you imagine the pressure? Being the number one pick and not even suiting up for your first year? Then he finally plays 61 games in his second season, showing glimpses of that defensive dominance we'd been promised, averaging nearly 9 points and 7 rebounds in just 24 minutes per game. The numbers weren't eye-popping, but you could see the potential. Then more knee surgeries, more setbacks. Over his entire Portland tenure, he played exactly 82 games - one full regular season's worth spread across five years.

I sometimes wonder how different things might have been with modern sports medicine and load management. Today's teams might have handled his development differently, but back then, it felt like watching a slow-motion car crash. The Blazers medical staff became the subject of intense scrutiny, and Oden became the poster child for draft busts - which I've always thought was unfair. A bust implies poor performance or lack of effort, but Oden's body simply wouldn't cooperate. There's a huge difference between failing because you can't play and failing because you're never healthy enough to show what you can do.

After Portland, he had that brief Miami stint in 2014, but by then the magic was gone. The explosive athleticism that made him special had evaporated. I remember watching him during his comeback attempt and feeling this profound sadness - he moved like someone who'd been through multiple wars with his own body. He was only 26 during that Miami season but moved like a veteran well past his prime. The statistics from that final NBA chapter make for tough reading - just 2.9 points and 2.3 rebounds in 23 games, playing about 9 minutes per contest. He was essentially a shadow of the player we'd seen at Ohio State.

These days, Oden has found his place in basketball as a student manager and graduate assistant at Ohio State. There's something poetic about him returning to where it all began, helping develop the next generation of big men. I recently saw an interview where he sounded at peace with his journey, acknowledging the frustrations but also appreciating the opportunities basketball gave him. He's only 35 now - younger than LeBron James still playing at an elite level - yet his professional career has been over for nearly a decade. That contrast still blows my mind when I think about it.

Watching young athletes like Alexandra Eala push established stars at Wimbledon reminds me why we get so invested in prospects like Oden. We see that flash of potential and imagine the incredible careers they might have. Sometimes it works out - Kevin Durant, picked right after Oden, became exactly the superstar we expected. Other times, the body or circumstances intervene in ways nobody can predict. What stays with me about Oden's story isn't the disappointment though - it's the resilience he's shown in rebuilding his life after basketball. He could have become bitter, but instead he's giving back to the game that gave him both his highest highs and lowest lows. There's something admirable in that, something that transcends the typical draft bust narrative. His story serves as a reminder that athletic careers, no matter how promising, are fragile things - and that there's life after the spotlight fades, even if it arrives much sooner than expected.