For years now, before he ever wore a Memphis Grizzlies jersey, an image from the animated movie “Tangled” has been at the top of Ja Morant’s Twitter/X feed.
In the screenshot, there’s a guy cornered, surrounded by knives and swords ready to pounce. What’s more telling is the expression on the guy’s face: unfazed, “not-my-first-rodeo.” It’s almost as if he knew: “Sooner or later — probably sooner — everyone is going to be out to get me. Yawn.”
That was the energy Morant had as he fielded questions in Berlin, before the Grizzlies fell to the Orlando Magic there Thursday. It was Morant’s first media session since news broke on Jan. 9 that the Grizzlies are open to trading him before the Feb. 5 NBA trade deadline. Asked his reaction to the trade drama, Morant confirmed the question before nonchalantly stroking his chin and responding.
“You asked what my reaction was?” Morant said. “Live with it.”
Morant has spent most of the past three seasons in and out of the lineup for one reason (injury) or another (suspension). When he’s been on the floor this season, too often he has looked like a player fighting for rhythm instead of imposing it — a star with one foot on the gas and the other hovering over the brake.
From the social media posts showing off his guns, the suspensions, the injuries, and the visible lack of joy and competitive fire that once seemed effortless, Morant has thoroughly earned much of the blowback he’s received. He has some maturing to do. I defy you to show me ONE 26-year-old who doesn’t need to mature more. There, I said it.
But if we stop there, we’re doing the lazy version of this story — the version that absolves the franchise because it’s easier to blame the player.
Nope. The Grizzlies own some of this, too.
Yes, injuries have decimated the roster for the better part of two full years now (and counting), so ultimately, we’ll never know what these teams could have done at full strength. Still, even injuries don’t fully explain how quickly Memphis went from boom in 2022 to … whatever this is now.
For Context:
Before we talk about the firing of Taylor Jenkins — and we need to — we have to name what the Grizzlies were at their height. Because the fall feels sharper when you remember how high the climb was. Here’s the context that keeps getting skipped:
- This wasn’t just a good team. It had an identity. Under Jenkins, Memphis was loud, young, physical and fearless — and the city loved it. FedExForum didn’t just host games; it hosted a mood. And the Grizzlies were dominant — averaging double digit wins and long winning streaks for much of the 2021-22 season. They lost in the Western Semis to the eventual champions, the Golden State Warriors, but literally if 3-4 possessions in that series had gone the other way . . .
- Jenkins built continuity and a brotherhood. With Morant healthy, Dillon “the Villain” Brooks setting the edge, Desmond Bane evolving into a co-star, Jaren Jackson Jr. blossoming and Steven Adams dominating the glass, Memphis didn’t feel like a cute story. It felt like a problem for opponents.
- Morant played his best basketball under Jenkins. That matters — not because Jenkins was perfect, but because the most coherent version of the Grizzlies and the most dynamic version of Morant were built in the same era.
Then the organization abruptly pivoted in a way that would rattle any locker room, especially one led by a superstar who (fair or not) sets the temperature. Which brings us to the moment that changed the weather.
The firing of Taylor Jenkins
The Grizzlies fired Taylor Jenkins on March 28, 2025 — a stunning decision not only because Jenkins was the winningest coach in franchise history, but because of the timing: With nine games remaining, Memphis was sitting fifth in the West, very much in the playoff picture.
You can argue basketball reasons all day — urgency, stagnation, whatever the front office saw coming. ESPN’s Ramona Shelburne later reported a fractured situation where “no one was on the same page” and the organization decided it couldn’t wait.
But here’s the part that matters if you’re trying to understand the Morant situation through a franchise lens: General Manager Zach Kleiman said he didn’t consult any players.
“The players were not consulted on this decision,” Kleiman told the media after the firing. “This decision is mine and mine only.”
That’s not a throwaway line. That’s a locker-room weather report.
Because whether you consult players or not, the message heard by players — especially by the face of the franchise — is simple: This is happening to you, not with you.
If you want to understand how a team ends up entertaining trades for its superstar, you can’t ignore moments like that — moments where trust either deepens or cracks.
The Iisalo bet — and the opportunity cost
Not long after that firing, Memphis made a second decision that deserves more scrutiny: It committed quickly to Tuomas Iisalo as head coach.
Iisalo has a strong resume overseas, and the Grizzlies have framed him as the kind of modern coach who can install a faster, more decisive system — pace, rapid reads, constant action, problem-solving basketball. That might be smart. It might even be the future. But it’s also a philosophical bet, and bets have consequences.
By moving quickly to lock in Iisalo last summer, the Grizzlies effectively took themselves out of the broader coaching sweepstakes as it evolved — the part of the calendar where NBA-proven, championship-tested names start shaking loose.
One of those names: Mike Brown, a two-time NBA Coach of the Year who ultimately landed as the New York Knicks’ head coach in July 2025. Or Michael Malone, who had just won a championship in Denver in 2023.
Maybe Brown was always headed to New York. Maybe Memphis never had him. But the larger point stands: When you commit early, you limit options — and you own that.
And if you’re trying to stabilize a franchise with a fragile superstar situation, NBA credibility matters. Championship credibility matters.
At 26, Morant is a seasoned NBA veteran, squarely in his prime. And yet the franchise around him has shifted in ways that would test any superstar’s buy-in. Key players (Adams, Brooks, Bane, even D’Anthony Melton) from the team’s most coherent winning identity are gone, as is the coach. In fairness to the Grizzlies, injuries and suspensions forced them to imagine a team that didn’t depend on Morant. The culture has been reshuffled and the organization has effectively pushed its chips in on a new, unproven NBA head coach and a new system.
That might be a smart long-term bet. But for a star point guard whose game is built on rhythm, control, and downhill pressure, a system that spreads decision-making outward — while reducing his minutes and taking the ball out of his hands — isn’t just a tactical adjustment. It’s a psychological one. And that’s where the Morant conversation has to go next.
When “system” collides with a superstar
Here’s where basketball and psychology meet.
Morant is at his best when the game is a blur — when he has the ball, the runway and the freedom to weaponize chaos. A system that spreads decisions across more bodies, emphasizes constant movement and manages shifts differently can be brilliant — but it can also feel, to a lead guard, like the organization is trying to manage him instead of unleash him.
If you’re Morant and you sense the offense is being reshaped in ways that reduce your natural imprint — fewer long stretches to find rhythm, fewer possessions where your downhill force is the organizing principle — then, even if you never say it publicly, you feel it.
And if you feel it, you don’t play free.
That doesn’t excuse Morant’s choices. It could explain why the on-court product might look joyless.
The mental-health piece everyone tiptoes around
And here’s what too many people avoid because it complicates the neat story: Morant has talked openly about the mental part of recovering from injury and being sidelined.
After 2022’s playoff loss to Golden State, Morant told ESPN’s Taylor Rooks: “That Golden State series where I couldn’t play was one of the toughest times of my life,” he said, describing the “mental aspect” of being unable to play.
And fresh off of his 2023 gun incident, he spoke with Jalen Rose about the stresses of stardom. It’s forgotten now, but Morant did seek (and receive) professional help after the scandal, and said he learned “different ways to manage stress in a positive way.”
“I was constantly talking to therapists. I’ve been doing reiki treatment,” he said. “I’m doing anxiety breathing, different stuff to help me manage that and release all that stuff from my body.”
Rose: “How stressful can it be being Ja Morant?”
Morant: “Very. And I felt like I didn’t pay enough attention to that when it got rough and I pretty much just let it all build up. And that’s why I felt like I needed my time away to better myself and become a more healthy Ja.”
There’s no handbook for transforming from an unrecruited backyard hooper from Dalzell, South Carolina, into a global celebrity — levitating in Nike commercials — while the whole world waits for your next mistake.
Some players manage that cleanly. Some don’t. And Morant clearly hasn’t.
But Memphis also has to ask itself whether its decisions — from leadership messaging to coaching direction — made it easier or harder for its star to stabilize.
So what now?
Finding a match for Morant likely won’t be easy, given his health, salary, baggage and narrative. Don’t be surprised if a trade involves three teams, and nets the Grizz a haul of draft picks.
If Memphis trades Morant, it will be framed as a referendum on Morant. But it should also be a referendum on the franchise’s ability to build alignment between its front office vision, its coaching identity, and the superstar it once built everything around.
Morant didn’t do everything right — far from it. But the Grizzlies didn’t either.
And if you’re going to tell the full story of how the Grizzlies got here — to a January where trading Ja Morant is even a sentence people can say with a straight face — you have to tell both sides.
Lee Eric Smith covered the Grizzlies for more than 10 years, including five years for the Tri-State Defender.
