Features
Former Winnipeggers Ari & Pablo Schor have Canada’s 8th best restaurant
Since 2016 “Canada’s 100 Best Restaurants” (https://canadas100best.com/), edited by Jacob Richler, has been publishing lists of the 100 best restaurants in Canada. This year the list was determined by a panel of 135 judges.
As the Canada’s 100 Best Restaurants website explains, “Our judging panel is a balanced mix of informed culinary enthusiasts, food writers and critics, chefs, restaurateurs and other food service professionals. Their number in each province and region is proportional to the population. Judges were asked to vote for restaurants based on the complete dining experience provided – service, decor, the depth of the cellar and, above all else, food quality…each judge must vote for a minimum of three restaurants outside of their home region.”
Year after year, Montreal restaurants have consistently dominated the selections – and the most recent edition of “Canada’s 100 Best” is no exception – with 27 of the top restaurants being situated in Montreal. (Toronto had 18 on the list, Vancouver -15, Ottawa – 8, Calgary – 7, and Halifax – 4.
Winnipeg, alas, had but one: “Deer and Almond.”)
Placing number eight on the list, however, was a restaurant that had actually first made it on to the list last year, when it placed in 16th place: “Beba.”
Beba,” which is located in Verdun, a borough of Montreal, has only been opened since 2019.
What might make Beba especially interesting for readers of this paper is the fact that it is owned and operated by two brothers who grew up in Winnipeg – after having moved here with their parents from Argentina in 1997.
Ariel and Pablo Schor are the sons of Monica and Eduardo Schor. Their aunt and uncle, who also came to Winnipeg in 1997, are Anna and Carlos Schor.
Ariel (who prefers to be known simply as Ari, and who was born in 1984) and Pablo (born in 1986) are both former students at Gray Academy, with Ari having graduated from there in 2001, while Pablo went to Gray Academy until the end of Grade 10, whereupon he transferred to the University of Winnipeg Collegiate for his final two years of high school. Ari also told me that he went on Birthright in 2002, Pablo some years later.
Beba is a quite small restaurant, seating only 28, but its reputation is such that you would need to make a reservation at least a month in advance in order to have a table there.
Here is what Canada’s 100 Best 100 Restaurants had to say about Beba: “THIS COZY 28-SEAT BISTRO on an out-of-the-way corner in Verdun is staying true to its Argentinian and Jewish roots while expanding its range. To wit: Spanish and Italian influences artfully mashed up via imported seafood, as exemplified by chef (and co-owner) Ari Schor’s Iwashi Montadito. This dish features Japanese sardines prepared Spanish style on sesame toast, with butter, horseradish and chives. Consider it a nod to schmaltz herring. As they hit their fourth birthday, Schor and chef de cuisine Dixon Cone are expanding their offerings while keeping menu favourites, such as their famous empanadas, along with Swiss chard– wrapped involtini and grilled rabbit, best enjoyed on Beba’s diminutive summer patio. You might find firefly squid when they can get it, or guinea fowl with chorizo and saffron-laced caldoso. To this mix, add brother Pablo and sommelière Anaïs Flebus, whose old-world wine list showcases organic, minimal-intervention bottles. The Schors’ convivial and unstuffy neighbourhood restaurant is worth a detour.”
Recently, I managed to speak to Ari Schor – just after he had helped put to bed his two daughters, Isabel, age 4, and Olive, age 2. I asked him how he had come to end up in the restaurant business in Montreal, and how did he and Pablo get the idea to open their own restaurant?
Ari explained that, after graduating Gray Academy, he took the culinary arts course at Red River College. He told me that he had always had an interest in preparing food from scratch. “I have pictures of me rolling fresh pasta when I was 10,” he said.
His first job in a Winnipeg kitchen was at the Fairmont Hotel, Ari noted, followed by stints at the Lobby on York, and Pizzeria Gusto (on Academy).
In 2012 Ari left Winnipeg for Montreal, when he began working at the well-known “Joe Beef.”
In 2013 he moved over to Liverpool House, which is owned by the same owners as Joe Beef. Ari became head chef there. Perhaps his most famous moment during his time there came in 2017 when he cooked dinner for Prime Minister Justin Trudeau and a recently-retired President Barack Obama.
Pablo Schor took a somewhat different route into the restaurant business. He attended the University of Manitoba, where he studied small business management and human resource management.
After graduating, Pablo went first to Vancouver, but Ari says that he and Pablo had long talked about opening their own restaurant.
An article in the Montreal Gazette described the challenges that awaited the brothers – much to their chagrin, in opening Beba: “They opened Beba in the late summer of 2019, having sunk their life savings, $200,000, into the spot. Seven months later COVID-19 came and they had to shut down. On top of that, Ari’s daughter Izzy was just born.
“ ‘I contemplated becoming an electrician or a refrigeration specialist, something, anything, to pay the bills,’ Ari recalled. ‘We poured everything we had into this place. But I’m so glad we stuck to our dream. For lack of a better phrase, the proof is in the pudding now.’”
I asked Ari why he and Pablo chose to open quite a small restaurant in Verdun which, until a few years ago, was mainly a working class neighborhood of Montreal (as opposed to downtown Montreal, which is where most of the other restaurants on the top 100 list are located)?
He answered that there were two reasons: The first is “you have to stand out and be unique on a quiet street,” while the second reason is that “when you’re starting out, you want to start small.”
Ari added that because “a small space means small storage,” Beba changes its menu just “about every second day.”
And, while the restaurant does attempt to source its foods locally, Ari says that “local produce is not really our ethos…We want the best we can serve,” he says.
“We’re getting white asparagus from Holland, for example,” he notes.
As for what roles they play in the restaurant, while Ari is the head chef, Pablo “is a very experienced bar tender” with an extensive knowledge of wines, Ari adds.
Also, Pablo’s business training equips him to handle the front of the house, as well as bookkeeping duties, Ari says.
While the restaurant seats only 28, the fact that it is so consistently busy had led to Beba employing a staff of 18. But, because Ari knows firsthand how grueling it can be working in a restaurant – often starting at 10 in the morning and working until well past midnight – he and Pablo have deliberately organized the restaurant’s schedule so that no employee – including the owners, will ever have to work more than 40 hours in any given week.
“It takes a lot of time to change the way we work in restaurants,” Ari observes, but “Covid taught us what’s really important,” which is to maintain a proper work-life balance.
Since Ari already told me that he has two daughters, I ask him whether he’s married. (You can’t assume anything.)
He said that his wife’s name is Ashley Joseph and that her father is from Israel.
That got me to wondering about the Schor family itself and where Ari and Pablo’s grandparents came from – since I guessed that, like almost all Argentinean Jews, they had emigrated to Argentina from Europe in the first half of the 20th century.
“Our grandfather on our father’s side is from Romania,” Ari answers, while “our grandmother on our mother’s side is from Poland or Lithuania.” (He wasn’t quite sure which.)
As for their mother’s parents, their grandfather is from England, while their grandmother is from Germany.
I said to Ari that his and Pablo’s ancestry is reminiscent of so many Winnipeg Jews’ ancestry, and that it was probably just luck of the draw that drew their grandparents to Argentina rather than Canada or the U.S.
The fact that one of their grandparents was from England also led to their speaking English, as well as Spanish, when they were growing up in Argentina – which was of tremendous benefit when they both started school in Winnipeg.
In fact, Ari told an amusing story about his first year at Gray Academy, when he would have been 13. He said that he was a very quiet student – and his teacher naturally assumed it was because he had difficulty speaking English. But, when he took a reading comprehension test – and aced it, the teacher was somewhat astonished, and asked Ari why he had kept his ability to speak and understand English such a secret?
Returning to Beba – and what all the acclaim has meant for Ari and Pablo, Ari suggests that “you shouldn’t go after accolades, you should go after goals.
He says that one of his biggest recent thrills was being able to cook for Gail Simmons (whom I had never heard of, apparently because I never watch the Cooking Channel). Simmons has been a judge on Bravo’s Emmy-award winning show “Top Chef “ since 2006, according to Wikipedia.
When I ask Ari whether, given the enormous success that Beba has enjoyed in the relatively brief period since it opened, he and Pablo have any plans to expand the restaurant or perhaps open another one, he answers, “I’d rather not have two mediocre restaurants. I’d rather have one that’s always improving. For now, we’re very happy running the restaurant.”
Features
“The Desert Doesn’t Forget” – a short story
By H. C. Piloski
Foreword
This story is loosely based on a true event shared between father and son. The exact year has blurred with time — somewhere in the early to mid1960s — but the Las Vegas my father described was unmistakably the Las Vegas of that era: hot, bright, and dangerous in ways polite men didn’t discuss.
Many years after the incident, my father introduced me to one of the businessmen involved. As we approached him, my father leaned in and whispered that I was not to mention Las Vegas — not to ask, not to hint, not even to let the word cross my mind. The warning was quiet, but firm, and it told me more than any story could.
The details here have been fictionalized, but the core incident — a trip abruptly cut short after a threatening encounter — comes from those private recollections. Some memories fade, others distort, but certain moments remain sharp as desert glass. This is one of them.
Las Vegas, 1965
The desert air hit Harold Bernstein like a blast furnace the moment he stepped off the plane — not just heat, but a smell, too. A dry, mineral sting carrying dust, sun cooked metal, and the faint tang of jet fuel settling over the tarmac.
Winnipeg men weren’t built for this. They were built for honest cold, for wind that cut straight and didn’t pretend to be anything else.
Harold paused at the top of the stairs, blinking against the glare. Miriam had tucked a small prayer book into his suitcase “just in case.” He almost smiled. There was no “case” for this — not the kind Miriam meant, anyway.
He and his business partner, Leonard “Lenny” Krawitz, ran Bernstein & Krawitz Apparel Distributors — a respectable prairie outfit, steady as a metronome. They’d been raised in the North End — synagogue basements, rye bread, and quiet rules — but now lived in Tuxedo, where the houses were larger, the streets quieter, and success felt like something you had to defend.
Harold had known Solly Markowitz since they were boys in the North End — same streets, same synagogue basement — but Solly had always moved faster, talked faster, lived faster. Too fast.
Rumors drifted back over the years like smoke: Vegas. Casinos. “Connections.” And the darkest whisper of all — that Solly had been with Benjamin “Bugsy” Siegel the night Siegel was shot to death in his Los Angeles home in 1947.
Siegel, one of the architects of modern Las Vegas, had built his empire on danger. Siegel’s murder was never officially solved. Men tied to Siegel didn’t retire. They drifted into darker corners.
You don’t play around with the mob.
Still, Solly called every few years. Usually around the High Holidays. Usually to ask if anyone remembered his parents.
This time, he had a business proposition.
“A warehouse,” Solly said. “Distribution. Vegas is booming. You boys could expand. And listen — you’ll be dealing with our people. Markowitz runs things on this end. Good man. Efficient. You’ll be safe.”
Harold didn’t trust men who promised safety.
But Lenny was curious. And Harold had been partners with him long enough to know that curiosity was a tide you didn’t fight. So they booked two tickets, packed their best suits, and flew into the desert.
The Strip
The taxi was a 1965 Dodge Coronet, the kind every Vegas cab company seemed to buy in bulk — boxy, dependable, sun bleached around the edges. Its vinyl seats were hot enough to sting through Harold’s trousers, carrying the ingrained smell of desert dust, gasoline, and a hundred previous fares who’d sweated their way down the Strip.
The driver wore a shortsleeved white shirt and a narrow black tie, loosened past respectability. A pack of Luckies sat tucked above the visor. He didn’t talk. Vegas drivers rarely did. They’d seen too much, and they knew silence was sometimes the safest tip a man could give.
Neon signs flickered to life in the early evening glare — reds, blues, golds shimmering like they were trying to outshine the sun itself. Billboards shouted from every corner:
FRANK SINATRA — LIVE AT THE SANDS; SAMMY DAVIS JR. — TONIGHT ONLY; DEAN MARTIN — MIDNIGHT SHOW; DON RICKLES — ONE NIGHT ONLY — CAESAR’S PALACE
Harold watched the lights smear past the window. Vegas looked like a city built by men who didn’t believe in consequences — men who thought the world could be rewritten in neon and smoke.
At a stoplight, Harold noticed a man in a dark suit standing outside the Desert Inn. Ninety degrees even after sundown, yet the man didn’t sweat. He stared at their cab with the flat, patient look of someone waiting for a decision already made.
Harold looked away.
Their hotel was one of the older ones — brass fixtures dulled by fingerprints, red carpets worn thin, cigarette smoke curling under chandeliers. The casino floor hummed with slot machines, dice clattering, and the low murmur of gamblers who had already lost more than they could afford.
Harold felt the city watching him.
They checked in, rode the elevator up, and began unpacking. Lenny talked about expansion, about opportunity. Harold listened, nerves tight.
Then came the knock.
The Knock
A heavy, deliberate thud — the kind that didn’t wait for permission.
Lenny froze. Harold felt his pulse climb into his throat.
Lenny opened the door.
Two men stood there — tall, broad, wearing dark suits that didn’t belong in the Nevada heat. Their faces were blank, carved from something that didn’t melt. One shifted slightly, revealing the unmistakable outline of a holstered pistol.
“You’re Bernstein and Krawitz,” the first man said. His voice was calm, almost bored — the tone of someone who had delivered this message before.
Harold nodded before he realized he’d done it.
“Mr. Markowitz appreciates your interest,” the second man said. “But he doesn’t want you involved. Not now. Not ever.”
Lenny swallowed. “We just got here—”
The first man stepped forward, jacket pulling back just enough to show steel. “If you stay,” he said, “the desert will take you. And the desert doesn’t give anything back.”
They turned and walked away without waiting for a response.
Lenny closed the door slowly.
“Harold,” he whispered, “we’re leaving.”
Harold was already zipping his suitcase.
The Retreat
They moved through the casino like ghosts. The noise felt distant, muffled, as if the city itself were holding its breath. Harold avoided eye contact with everyone — dealers, tourists, men in suits who always seemed to be standing just far enough away to pretend they weren’t watching.
At the front desk, Harold slid their room keys across the counter. The clerk raised an eyebrow.
“Checking out already, sir? You just arrived.”
“Change of plans,” Harold said. His voice sounded like it belonged to someone else.
Outside, a row of gleaming Cadillacs and Lincolns lined the valet area, their long bodies catching the neon glow like blades. The desert air smelled different now — harsher, metallic, as if the heat itself were warning them. The Strip looked less like a playground, more like a trap.
At the Western Airlines counter, Harold’s hands shook so badly he dropped his wallet. They managed to get seats on a late flight to Los Angeles, with a connection north to Winnipeg. Luck, or something like it, was still on their side.
On the jet, Lenny stared straight ahead, silent. Harold didn’t speak either.
When the aircraft began its run, the engines didn’t just roar — they howled, a rising metallic fury that made the cabin tremble. Harold gripped the armrests as the desert dropped away beneath them, Las Vegas shrinking into a glittering lie the desert never bothers to hide.
Only when they were safely above the clouds did Lenny finally whisper, “What do you think that was about?”
Harold didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.
They both knew.
Home Again
Back in Winnipeg, winter arrived early. Harold welcomed it. Snow didn’t lie. Cold didn’t threaten. The prairie wind didn’t bury men in unmarked graves.
Their wives were waiting at the airport, bundled in coats, cheeks pink from the cold.
“You’re home early,” Miriam said, frowning.
“Business fell through,” Harold said. “Whole thing was a waste.”
Esther looked from her husband to Harold, suspicious. “Barely two days?”
“Solly wasn’t organized,” Lenny said quickly. “Nothing to see.”
Miriam touched Harold’s arm. “You look pale.”
“Heat,” Harold said. “Didn’t agree with me.”
It was the closest he had ever come to lying to her.
That night, Miriam asked again. “Something happened.”
Harold kissed her forehead. “Nothing we need to talk about.”
She didn’t press. Tuxedo wives knew when a door was meant to stay closed.
A week later, Solly called.
“Boys! You never showed! Markowitz said you headed home early. Shame — I had everything lined up. Next time, we’ll make sure things are clearer.”
Harold hung up without answering.
Lenny unplugged the phone.
They never spoke of the trip again.
Not to their wives. Not to their families. Not to the men at shul or the ones they played cards with on Thursday nights.
Some stories were too heavy to carry into daylight.
Years Later
Decades passed. Their children grew. Their hair thinned. Their business went to younger hands.
Sometimes, late at night, Harold would wake in the middle of the dark, heart pounding, hearing that knock again — heavy, deliberate, final.
And he would think of Solly. Of Vegas. Of the desert.
How it didn’t forget. How it didn’t forgive. How close he and Lenny had come to disappearing into it.
Features
Turkey’s Rising Power Worries Israel
By HENRY SREBRNIK It has long shared intelligence with Iran, and it remains the only NATO country to have refrained from sanctioning Russia after its 2022 invasion of Ukraine. It is, along with Qatar, the main international sponsor of the Muslim Brotherhood, including its Palestinian branch, Hamas. Its poor human rights record consistently stir unease among NATO allies.
This is President Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s Turkey. He wants his country to become the preeminent power in the Middle East. If Iran emerges from the current war with Israel and the United States weakened, whether politically, economically, or militarily, Turkey’s relative influence in the broader region will increase. Ankara has already consolidated significant influence in Syria and Azerbaijan, and it continues to pursue strategic connectivity projects across the South Caucasus.
Since Erdogan and his Justice and Development Party (AKP) came to power in 2003, relations have steadily deteriorated. The Hamas victory in a legislative election in Gaza in 2005 felt in Ankara like a personal win for Erdogan, who had advised Hamas on its electoral strategy.
Three years later came the Mavi Marmara incident. A Turkish ship chartered by the Humanitarian Relief Foundation (IHH) attempted to break Egypt and Israel’s blockade of Gaza. The vessel was boarded by Israeli commandos, resulting in nine deaths. Erdogan accused Israel of “state terrorism” and appealed to the “international community” in a speech to the Turkish parliament. Things kept going downhill and are now worse than ever.
Turkish Foreign Minister Hakan Fidan recently remarked that “the Israeli authorities are a burden that humanity can no longer bear.” Fidan’s words came in a TV interview July 2 following Israel’s recognition of the 1915 Armenian genocide: “Israel is not just Turkey’s problem, nor is it just the issue of our president, he said. “But everyone knows it, feels it, whispers it in hidden corners, and occasionally speaks openly. This is what we must call it.” True, he stepped back from those remarks in a later interview, contending that Turkey and Israel aren’t destined for conflict. Was this second comment perhaps made at Donald Trump’s urging?
After Hamas’s October 7, 2023, attack on Israel, Erdogan emerged as one of Israel’s most outspoken international critics, accusing Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s government of committing grave violations during the Gaza conflict and intensifying Ankara’s diplomatic support for the Palestinian cause. Israeli officials have interpreted this rhetoric as evidence that Turkey increasingly views itself as a political counterweight to Israel across the region.
Already in December 2023, Erdogan had compared Netanyahu to Adolf Hitler, and Israel’s actions in the Gaza Strip to those of the Nazis. In March 2024, he referred to Netanyahu and his government as “modern-day Nazis” and called for bringing these “murderers” to justice under international law.
He subsequently accused Netanyahu of committing “genocide” in Gaza, claimed that his actions “would make Hitler jealous,” and even described the situation in Gaza as “worse than Nazi camps,” while portraying the West as standing aside and enabling the continuation of the “brutality.” In a speech posted on X on March 30 this year, Erdogan called on “Allah” to “damn Zionist Israel.”
The narrative accusing Israel has become a structural component of Turkey’s domestic political discourse. What is new is not the use of extreme imagery and Holocaust terminology, but the role they play. Unlike in the past, the rhetoric is no longer merely an expression of political anger or protest; it has become a component of Turkish policy, intended to lay a normative foundation through which Ankara seeks to deny Israel the moral legitimacy of its actions.
Turkey portrays Israel not as a state confronting a grave security threat from a murderous terrorist organization but as an entity that has crossed the bounds of humanity, committing crimes it equates with those perpetrated by the Nazis. This framing intentionally downplays the severity of Hamas’s actions and prepares the ground for collective action against Israel, including exceptional punitive measures against it. At the same time, it depicts any Western hesitation or lack of restraint regarding Israel as a moral abandonment of Gaza’s residents, expanding responsibility and blame to the international community beyond Israel itself.
On November 7, 2025, the Istanbul Chief Public Prosecutor’s Office announced the issuance of arrest warrants against 37 Israeli figures, including Netanyahu and other senior officials, on charges of genocide and crimes against humanity. Although these domestic warrants lack practical enforcement, their significance lies in the ongoing legal threat they create. They limit the movement of senior Israeli officials, discourage other countries and institutions from engaging with Israel, and enhance the criminal framing of Israel in the international arena.
Its identity as a Muslim state and a NATO member, but critical of the liberal-Western order, has allowed Turkey to position itself as a leading moral voice, strengthening its regional and international standing. In addition to the importance the Turkish government attributes to the Palestinian issue and the broad support for the Palestinian position among the Turkish public in general, and Erdogan’s electoral base in particular, this issue serves as a platform for positioning Turkey as a voice challenging the West and speaking on behalf of “the oppressed in the world.”
Erdogan’s tenure has seen a systematic shift toward Islamization within Turkey. His government has expanded religious education, restricted alcohol sales, and promoted conservative social policies. These measures, coupled with the suppression of secular institutions, align with his stated goal of raising a “pious generation.”
Erdogan, from his comments, seems to consider himself the rightful leader of the entire Muslim world. In the interim, he evidently sees himself as the Middle East’s next great power broker, claiming leadership while chaos reigns.
Already entrenched in Syria, steadily expanding an indigenous defence industry capable of producing sophisticated drones, naval vessels, and eventually advanced fighter aircraft, while seeking a foothold in Gaza, Ankara increasingly appears intent on filling the regional vacuum Iran leaves behind. Tehran sought to surround Israel with a Shi’ite ring of fire. Ankara appears willing to create a Sunni one.
Henry Srebrnik is a professor emeritus at the University of Prince Edward Island
Features
Can Deni Avdija lead Portland to the title next year?
It is too early to say if Deni Avdija is ready to lead the Portland Trail Blazers to the NBA Finals in 2027, but it’s not too much to hope for. But the trade to Washington in 2024 is arguably a signature move for Portland. All those who followed him on basketball results on SportyTrader have seen him grow from an all-purpose prospect into an All-Star creator and a testament to the Blazers’ rebuild.
It is not Avdija’s question as to whether he can be a one-man savior. Whether his scoring and playmaking, defense and competitive edge can support a roster that’s become ambitious.
The catalyst: Avdija’s arrival and Portland’s new hope
Deni Avdija was traded to Portland on July 6, 2024, with Washington receiving veteran guard Malcolm Brogdon, the draft rights to No. 14 pick Bub Carrington, a 2029 first-round pick, a 2028 second-round pick, and a 2030 second-round pick in return. The cost seemed to be very high, but the deal with Deni Avdija is becoming more and more justified.
In the 2025-26 campaign, Avdija averaged 24.2 points, 6.9 rebounds and 6.7 assists in 66 games played, and had a shooting percentage of 46.2 percent on the field and 80.2 percent at the free throw line. He has made his first All-Star call-up, his first call-up as an Israeli player. That was a turning point in his career and catapulted him into one of the most prominent Israeli athletes.
One thing that is still being questioned is his perimeter efficiency. He was 36.5 percent on 3-pointers in 2024-25, falling to 31.8 percent with an average of six attempted three-pointers per game. However, his versatility to attack closeouts, get to the ball, rebound, play several positions defensively, and start transition offense means that he is valuable.
What does ‘leading a team’ truly mean for Avdija?
Avdija is not quite in the Nikola Jokic or Giannis Antetokounmpo class; he doesn’t dominate each possession defensively, nor is he a Giannis Antetokounmpo who sets a championship system in motion. He’s becoming a more realistic high-level foundational leader, a part scorer, a part connector and a part tone-setter.
Standards are as necessary as statistics are in Portland. Avdija is aggressive with the ball, physically in it and plays with his heart. Those habits can become the culture on a young team that will ultimately foster contention.
He could still keep on climbing his ladder. The leap from 16.9 and 3.9 assists in 2024-25 to 24.2 and 6.7 indicates that the new found creation is more than just additional minutes. Whether he will grow into an All-Star every year comes down to avoiding turnovers, being able to break from defenders with pull-up shots and providing reliability in the playoffs.
Analyzing his fit with the current Blazers roster
Earlier discussions about what Portland is to look for at Deandre Ayton and Anfernee Simons are now outdated. Then, the 2026-27 bunch now contains Ja Morant, Damian Lillard, Jrue Holiday, Scoot Henderson, Shaedon Sharpe, and Toumani Camara, and Donovan Clingan should be added as well.
That’s opportunity and tension. The combination of Morant’s rim pressure will be a gamebreaker, and if Lillard is able to come back from the Achilles, he can pose defenses a threat with his shooting. Avdija can be used as a backup secondary initiator, attack mismatches and cover a tough defensive task. Camara and Clingan provide volume and bulk following him.
But, ball placement will be key. Morant, Lillard, Henderson and Avdija are all in need of touches. New coach Micah Nori will have to find a way to build an offense that takes advantage of Avdija’s abilities without it becoming a ‘spot-up’ forward.
The reality check: Portland’s long road to contention
There are no signs of a championship next season. Portland reached the playoffs for the first time since 2021, but were eliminated by the San Antonio Spurs in the first round of the Western Conference playoffs, with Victor Wembanyama’s return from a concussion in Game 4 proving decisive in San Antonio’s series win. That’s good, but not good enough to prove that they are champions.
Blazers still have work to do in the scoring, line-up balance, and postseason experience departments, plus clarity on who they’re going to rely on to be their starting closer. Morant is packed with star quality, and some risk. Lillard is 36 and coming back from a major injury. In the younger core, the prospects are good but not certain.
The rebuilds that generally work the way they’re supposed to go, go through a number of phases: asset building, playoff success, series success, then placing a claim on the title. Although Portland is past the beginning stages, one successful season isn’t going to close the gap between the team and the NBA elite.
The verdict: Can Avdija be a champion in Portland?
Avdija likely will not be the man for Portland to win the title next year. But he can also be the invaluable asset to a future contender. With his shot accuracy back at three-point, the turnovers will come down, his decision-making in the playoffs improves, another All-Star season is possible.
He’s a Portland Trail Blazers development litmus test now. Maybe not the only superstar that brings a trophy, but he can be the multi-faceted cornerstone that makes a real title structure possible.
