MIAMI _ It's over. And that's OK. Because there is no pressure now for Pat Riley or the Miami Heat to create a comeback scenario for Dwyane Wade.
Watching Wade's introductory media session Friday in Cleveland, standing in front of the Cavaliers' logo after unveiling his No. 9 jersey, there wasn't the numbness of the similar production the year before with the Chicago Bulls.
Listening to Wade's words, when he spoke about LeBron James leaving for the Cavaliers in the 2014 offseason after four consecutive trips to the NBA Finals, you realize that it can never be the same, at least with this front office.
First there was discussion of money conceded in the name of team success over the years, $30 million in Wade's estimation.
Then there was the reflection of what happened in the wake of James' return to Cleveland in 2014, of the immediate rush by the Heat to a maximum contract for Chris Bosh and the scramble for enough cash for Luol Deng.
"I wasn't a part of that, getting taken care of," Wade said. "It was Miami's decision not to give the money they gave me. They gave it to Chris, they gave it to Luol."
Three years ago. And recalling like it was yesterday. The sting still there.
For years, Wade was asked by the Heat to move forward on faith. As recently as last summer, it was Riley insisting there would be a way to finally make it whole, the career payoff for the concessions on the way to three NBA championships and five NBA Finals.
"Bird Rights is the golden pass here, for any veteran player," Riley explained in July 2016. "You don't have to give players 20, 20, 20, you can give 'em 20, 8, 37, 25. What difference does it make?"
The point being that if Wade never would have left, if he would have taken a total from the Heat similar to what he received in Chicago last season, then a bunch less for a Heat overhaul this past summer, there could have been a $37 million payoff when Wade was turning 37 and $25 million when turning 38.
Could have been.
The Heat also could have signed Gordon Hayward in the interim. Or not signed James Johnson, Dion Waiters, Kelly Olynyk.
Wade instead got his payoff, or at least most of it, these past two seasons, at $41 million combined from the Bulls and Cavs. But he now also has reached the point of an acceptance of the veteran minimum, which he will earn this season in Cleveland. And once that becomes acceptable, there rarely is a move back into the salary stratosphere.
Shortly after Wade's buyout, Bulls coach Fred Hoiberg said: "I'm excited for Dwyane to get the opportunity to compete for a championship again. That's very important to him as he winds down his career."
Winds. Down. His. Career.
That is the view at the moment, which is why to project Wade as a contributor moving forward becomes a risk only the talent-laden, such as the Cavaliers, are positioned to accept.
In discussing the reunion, Wade referenced the coming together with James and Chris Bosh with the Heat in 2010.
"A lot of people thought we planned it the first time," he said, among those being Cavaliers owner Dan Gilbert, who financed a tampering investigation out of his own pocket.
And of sitting on a flight with James hours after his friend had penned his farewell to Miami and re-embrace of Cleveland in 2014, Wade said, "I knew it was a possibility way before that."
The dance between the Riley, the Heat and Wade has been a delicate one since the 2014 offseason, even with the compelling push through the 2016 playoffs, when Wade again flashed championship brilliance.
But there also is a history there confirmed by this latest change of colors.
So you move on.
There no longer needs to be pretense of conciliation, only of enduring appreciation to the greatest player in the franchise's three decades.
