At some point, in so many sports situations, it is time to come to terms. Come to terms on a contract. Come to terms on a trade. Come to terms on a role. Come to terms on a buyout. Come to terms even if the terms are not as appealing as one side would prefer.
Sometimes, an athlete must come to terms with something else:
Reality.
You better believe that Chris Bosh loves basketball. He has missed the post-All-Star break portion of the past two seasons with a very serious, potentially life-threatening condition, and yet keeps coming back for more, even though he will get paid $76 million over the next three seasons even if he never suits up again -- even though he is the rare basketball superstar who doesn't, in fact, need basketball.
The guy can do just about anything. In his spare time he disassembles computers, learns Spanish, strums guitar, brews beer, shoots comedy sketches and serious documentaries. He makes Renaissance men look limited.
But Chris Bosh is a basketball player.
Unfortunately, again and again, there have been the setbacks. The signs. The scares. The latest news, first broken by The Miami Herald: that the 13-year veteran and 11-time All-Star has failed his pre-camp physical. According to The Herald, the testing uncovered more evidence of blood clotting, and the additional medicine would delay his attempt to return to the Miami Heat.
CBSSports.com has also learned that Bosh has new corresponding muscle weakness.
Then the team, contrary to custom, released a statement at mid-day Friday, saying that Bosh and the team had "the mutual goal of having Chris return to the court as soon as possible" but "the Miami Heat regret that it remains unable to clear Chris to return to basketball activities, and there is no timetable for his return."
So it sure seems like time for Bosh to come to terms that his career might well be over. He may, in fact, be on his way to doing this, as it has been reported that Bosh does not intend to fight the Heat's decision.
If he is leaning toward to walking away, nobody could fault him. At this point, you could say he should be encouraged to do so. Retirement would not be a show of weakness. Not even close. At this stage, it -- like Bosh's brave fight to get back-- would be a show of strength.
It's still somewhat hard to envision Bosh walking away just yet. You know by now there's been a trust breakdown with the Heat since last February, with Bosh revealing in an Uninterrupted video series this week that he felt he'd been "written off" by Heat doctors, and that manifesting itself with behind-the-scenes bickering, and social media sub-tweeting, as Bosh sought a doctor somewhere to clear him. (He found one who approved the idea of taking blood thinners in the morning and getting off them by tipoff, so he wouldn't run the risk of uncontrollable bleeding upon contact).
The Heat insist that, all along, they have only aimed to protect Bosh. Members of the Bosh side have repeatedly alleged that the Heat only care about protecting themselves, from liability and inflexibility. Bosh's close friend Dwyane Wade is already gone, on to Chicago, off the Heat's books. If Bosh never plays again, his contract evaporates from the salary cap, giving Riley another $25 million to dive into 2017 free agency, following 2016's belly flop. Thus, Bosh's associates have never bought the Heat's explanation for their concern.
But, after the latest medical revelation, the impetus for the Heat's concern isn't as important as the justification of it.
So this becomes about Bosh and himself.
He always knew he wouldn't play forever.
So how far short of forever is he willing to accept?
In March of 2014, prior to the Heat playing the Spurs, I asked Bosh if he intended to play as long as his childhood idol, Tim Duncan. After all, his game was likely to age gracefully, especially as he had more frequently taken it to the perimeter. Maybe he could go deep into his 30s, maybe even 40s. Bosh shook his head swiftly. Then came the cackle and the sly smile that are his signatures.
"No way," he said.
How come?
"I've got kids who need attention," he said, with another smile. "Everybody in my house is needy."
In July of 2015, as he appeared on my show on Sirius XM radio, I asked the same question. About what Duncan was doing. Still doing. At nearly 40.
Would Bosh want to do that?
Maybe his perspective had changed, especially because he had missed the game so much.
"Absolutely not," Bosh said, laughing. "I don't know how he does it. I give credit to that guy right there. And not only playing to the age he's playing at, but playing at the level. He continues to get the job done. He's reinvented himself so many times and it's amazing."
In many ways, Bosh has reinvented something too.
He has subtly changed the way we think of an NBA star.
"He's kind of not typical," his wife Adrienne told me in 2011 about what appealed to her upon meeting him.
Honest. Sensitive. Intellectual. Innovative. Real. He hasn't always been appreciated by NBA fans, many of whom have mocked his awkwardness or ignored his importance. After becoming a member of the Big Three, he stopped checking social media sites for a spell because he was tired of all the slights and slurs. It was only later, after the two championships -- the first of which he helped make happen by rushing back from injury -- and after Kevin Love struggled much more mightily with a similar role in Cleveland, that many observers began to recognize Bosh's versatility and sacrifice.
People rediscovered his worth as a player.
What's his worth as a person?
Is any of this worth the risks? Worth the risks after he was reassured, following the first blood clot, back in February 2015, that he didn't have the gene that would cause a reoccurrence? And yet there was a reoccurrence, a year later? And now this?
Only he can answer those questions, but it surely seems like someone somewhere is trying to nudge him to a conclusion. He has an even fuller house now, after Adrienne gave birth to twin boys in March, giving him four children with her, plus one from a previous relationship. His family has wanted him to play. He has wanted to play. That has been abundantly apparent, and was prior to Bosh's recent social media blitz, one that has made the organization uncomfortable.
Every man makes his own decision, about what matters most. We don't have a say, but the Heat do. The league will too, since it's a stretch to think any other team will assume similar risks that scare the Heat so much, certainly not enough to trade for Bosh.
We can only say the obvious here, knowing he probably won't hear it.
In life, there are much greater shames than no more games.