The NBA deadline is a salvage mission. That said, it’s hardly as impersonal than stripping a car for parts or digging through the bottom of a scrap heap. The salvaged are often talented quasi-stars and/or consummate professionals toiling away on teams ranging from mediocre to truly unbearable, but even those bad teams are complicated webs of interpersonal relations between players, coaches, management, ownership, and fans. Everyone is somebody’s friend and somebody’s favorite, and as much as the sanctity of those bonds should be preserved, there’s a certain satisfaction in knowing that the deserving are where they should be. It’s good to know that after what has amounted to a nightmare of a year for the Washington Wizards, that Antawn Jamison is finally in a better place. The Cleveland Cavaliers have a legitimate shot at the NBA title, and to go from a Washington team that had long since spiraled into irrelevance to that kind of atmosphere — the winning, the talent, the camaraderie — must have Jamison experiencing a fair bit of culture shock in the best possible way.

Antawn Jamison was saved. The Wizards are a mess right now, and it would be a shame for the twilight of Jamison’s career to dwindle away on a team forced to look past today, and maybe tomorrow, too. I couldn’t be happier for him, and for the Cavs, for just how great of a fit this is and will turn out to be. There aren’t many guys in this league more deserving based on talent and outlook, and though Jamison certainly doesn’t come without flaws, he’s going to rock alongside LeBron.

But others weren’t so lucky. While Jamison (and Caron Butler, Brendan Haywood, DeShawn Stevenson, and even Dominic McGuire) were able to jump ship thanks to the merciful hands of the Pollin family, other players around the league were left to rot away on their respective sinking ships. Among them: Troy Murphy, jump-shooting big man, solid rebounder, and unfortunately in this case, back-up plan. Murphy was linked to Cleveland among a variety of teams, but was somehow left in the Indiana cold by the time the trade deadline finally passed last week. But while Jamison’s story was a ground-shaker and headline-maker even before he was actually moved by the Wizards, Murphy has toiled away well outside of the public consciousness, draining threes and collecting defensive rebounds somewhere just below the surface.

Antawn has the bigger name and the bigger game, but does that really make him so much more of a sympathetic figure than Murphy? The Arenas-Crittenton debacle was an obvious embarrassment for every member of the Wizards organization, but at the very least, it presented a scapegoat. Washington’s plan won’t work, and it’s all Gilbert’s fault. The team won’t make the playoffs again as presently constructed, and it’s all Gilbert’s fault. Grunfeld has to trade away all of the team’s best players immediately to plan for the future, and it’s all Gilbert’s fault. But in a lot of ways, Gil is the red herring; the Wizards were already 10-20 before the gun story ran wild, and that’s not only on Arenas, but also Grunfeld, Flip, Antawn, Caron, Brendan, et al. But Washington has Gil as the goat of all goats, which doesn’t make the situation any less tragic but does make the excuses all kinds of convenient.

Murphy has no one to hide behind. After all, whose fault is it that the Pacers are an awful 19-36, a full game behind the Wizards? Is it Danny Granger’s fault for refusing to diversify his game and regressing in his most valuable attribute? Is it Jim O’Brien’s fault for coaching a horrid offense? Is it Larry Bird for piecing together a mismatched, underwhelming roster? Or Mike Dunleavy for the way his body refuses to cooperate? Washington at least had the blessing (or maybe just the illusion) of certainty, whereas things in Indiana are so muddled they’re almost indistinguishable. With over $60 million in guaranteed salary for next season, little in the way of trade bait, and no prospects waiting to take the leap, Murphy is stuck in his own private hell. He’s more productive than ever, in his prime, and playing for the worst Pacers team in franchise history. There’s no one to blame but everyone, no clear means for improvement, and nothing that even vaguely resembles hope. And while the pitied and respected Antawn Jamison could be sizing a ring or dancing on a parade float in a few months’ time, Troy is hardly so lucky. The best years of his career will be spent idling in Indianapolis, on a  Pacers team doomed to sink before it even reaches mediocrity.