Getty Images/Ringer illustration Zion brought his best against LeBron and the Lakers, only for the worst to happen once again. As great as he is, how can the New Orleans Pelicans commit to a player who can't stay on the floor? What if his fate was written into his very name? Zion: the highest point, the promised land, some mythical utopia. The good place. The place that cannot be. Zion, famous enough to go by just his first name since he turned 16, thanks to dunks that made it feel like you were watching a refrigerator get Jordan-esque hang time. Zion was a flying contradiction who captured our imaginations because the existence of the impossible suggests even more expansive possibilities. But something has always stopped Zion Williamson from actualizing the dreams he conjures. He drew Barack Obama and 4.3 million other viewers—then the most in ESPN's history of weeknight college basketball programming—to a rivalry clash as old as the game, only for his shoe to explode 30 seconds in, injuring his knee and Nike's stock price in the process. It was an omen of what was to come and the risk of attaching one's hopes to his trajectory. Five injury-riddled years later, it's a small...