From his earliest days in Denver, Carmelo Anthony has done the things that most believe a superstar should. He worked on an island and scored over even the most talented perimeter defenders. He put together an unbelievable clutch résumé and was arguably the best late-game finisher in the league for a stretch. He made the exceedingly difficult look effortless, as if all the world's problems could be solved with a jab step and jumper from the right wing.

And most important of all: He got buckets. Anthony arrived on the pro basketball scene as a fully formed 20-point scorer and has never slipped below that mark in any season. His career scoring average is just a shade under 25 points per game, and this season should mark the fifthtime that Anthony finishes the season in the NBA's top four in scoring average. He's in a special class of prolific scorers, and few are as masterful in turning difficult situations into improbable points.

So came the playoff berths and All-Star appearances, and eventually Anthony's public appeal boiled over. NBA fans categorically tend to appreciate volume scorers, and with Melo there was certainly a lot to like. No matchup was ever too much for him, as his rare combination of size and speed allowed him to bear his team's entire offensive burden. Yet Anthony's growing repute seemed to gloss over the premise of whether Anthony should be saddled with such offensive weight in the first place; there was no question that Anthony could put up big numbers if allowed