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Soooooooo...Michael Carter-Williams.
I love you.
Not a weird way, but in that creepy sports way that's made even creepier since I see you all the time at Schine or the gate to get into South Campus. I love your ability to play the point it was meant to be played. I love your defense and Dion Waiters-esque ability to make the play go the other way.
I also absolutely hate your ability to let the play go the other other way when on offense. You turn the ball over A LOT as of late, so much so, you're averaging 5/40 min for the season. Ever since Big East play began, you went from the best point guard Syracuse has ever had (paraphrasing) to Scoop Jardine 2.0 (I wish I was paraphrasing) and literally give me a heart attack every time you touch the ball.
Listen, I get that you have freakish athletic ability. I get that you probably won't be back next year because the NBA has already decided you are a lottery pick. I get that you were pissed off last year when Coach Boeheim sat you during the NCAA tournament and you're relishing the chance to show off what you can do.
BUUUUUUUUUT..... You are really struggling to shoot the ball. Since conference play has begun, you are shooting 35% from the field. Your three point FG percentage is just a shade below that at 32%. Those are big man percentages, not point guard percentages. Before conference play, your A/T ratio was 3.4. Now? 2.1. Not. Good.
You're getting hype. You deserve some of it because, well, you are talented and if you don't go, the Syracuse offense isn't going anywhere. But you need to start playing a full game deserving of the hype. You've shown flashes of brilliances and just as many flashes of stupidity.
You're young. You're not expected to be perfect. But please, please, PLEASE stop trying too hard to be "the man." You don't have to do that. If you just dish and dash enough, you'll be given the space to hit your shots.
Then you can be on the Wooden List and I won't feel the urge to write another one of these while I sit at work.
Sincerely,
More Syracuse fans than just me.