Features
Remembrance of Rupertsland Avenue – 1950 to 1975
By BRIAN M. GILFIX Cote Saint-Luc, Quebec September 18, 2023 I have read with interest in various past issues of the JP&N (Sept. 16 and 20, 2019, Sept. 30, 2020, and Nov. 10, 2021) descriptions of streets or blocks where all or most of the houses were occupied by Jewish families. (Ed. note: All those stories – about McAdam Avenue and Bredin Drive, can be found on this website. Simply go to “Search archive” and enter the name of either street. The entire issue in which the story about that street appeared will show in the search results.)
This was not all that unique in the 1950s and 60s, especially with the Jewish population of Winnipeg peaking close to 20,000 individuals during that time. During the immediate post-war years, individuals and families were leaving the Magnus and Flora Avenues with their wooden shuls and moving more northward to the then developing West Kildonan and later developing Garden City areas. This was reflected in the establishment of shuls (Rosh Pina, 1952; Bnay Abraham, 1958; Chevra Mishnayes, 1965) and schools (Talmud Torah, 1952) in the area.
Rupertsland Avenue was a new street developed in 1950 by Edward Rosenblatt. The street name obviously echoes the name given to the territory draining into Hudson’s Bay , which was called Rupert’s Land. Looking at the actual mortgage documents, houses cost about $8450 for a bungalow (1 storey) while a cottage (2 storey) cost about $2000 more. By the mid-2010s the value of a bungalow style house had increased thirty-fold in value. The street changed appearance somewhat over the years with some upgrades – paving of the back lane (1950s) and planting trees on the front boulevards (1960s).
I grew up on Rupertsland Avenue in the 1950s and 60s. Then, in the block stretching from McGregor St. to Parr St. and comprising about 50 houses, over a third of the houses were occupied by Jewish families. Most were tradespeople or small business owners. None of that generation were professionals. Then, your neighbours were also your friends with whom you socialized. For example, my parents belonged to a bridge club on the street, comprising amongst others the Stollers, Brasses, Bogaches, and Jacobsons. As few trees were planted, we, the neighbourhood children, played across the front lawns of neighbouring houses, effectively making one long field.
The children (including myself) walked to the local schools regardless of the weather: Victory, what was then known as Jefferson Junior High School, Garden City Collegiate, and Talmud Torah – affecting the school demographics such that on major Jewish holidays the public schools “shut down.”
We had deliveries from the milkman and bread man. The street was visited by vendors selling eggs and, on one occasion early on, vegetables from a horse drawn wagon.
From my memory, I have provided a list of the Jewish families that lived on the street during this period. I have also given a few short vignettes of some families as I remember it from my then youthful perspective aided by information gleaned from the JP&N and Google. I apologize for any errors in advance. I should note that of the families listed here, with rare exception, the parents have passed away. In some instances, I have noted the year of passing.
565 Rupertsland – Stoller. He was an accountant or bookkeeper. He and his wife had a son & daughter, Elaine (?).
517 Rupertsland – Name unknown.
513 Rupertsland – Kesten. Their son Cyril currently resides in Vancouver.
509 Rupertsland – Tennenhouse – Sam (d.2001) and Gertie (d.2014).
They had four children: Karen, Ronnie, Marsha, and Kenny. He farmed with his brothers during the summer and had a small machine shop in the basement in winter where he made house numbers. They were long time friends of my parents. They had a “bogey man” is their basement, actually an old coal style furnace. The oldest daughter would bang on it to make the “monster” noise to frighten the kids. They were perhaps the first family to leave Ruperstland for the then new Garden City. I believe some family members still live in Winnipeg, but the son Ronnie lives in Toronto.
505 Rupertsland – Gilfix (us) – We were Joseph (d.2014), Betty (d.2021), Debbie (Edmonton) and myself (Montreal). My parents moved to a new home on Rupertsland in 1950 from the Carmen Apartments on Burrows, which is still standing, leaving behind a walk up and ice boxes. The years saw a transition for heating the house with coal to oil to gas. My sister left for Edmonton to attend university, later married there, and has lived there since. My journey was more peripatetic, moving in 1975 to London, Ontario to pursue my PhD, followed by a post-doctoral fellowship at Harvard Medical School, and finally returning to Canada and McGill University to pursue my MD degree and specialty training. I married in Montreal and have been on staff at the Royal Victoria Hospital in Montreal since 1993. Due to age and infirmity, my parents finally left Rupertsland in 2014. I believe my parents were the last Jewish family on the block and street when they finally left.
501 Rupertsland – Dutkevich – Ann Dutkevich (d.2000), husband Nick, daughter Sally and son Joe. She was affectionately known to us as “Mrs. D”. She was very kindly. Once, when my sister decided to “run away,” she packed her bags to move to Mrs. D. next door.
I believe the children still live in Winnipeg. Their house was later purchased by another Jewish family, the Greenholtzes (daughter Faye & son Joey). He was a tailor and both he and his wife worked in the garment factories. The parents later relocated to Toronto to be closer to their children.
493 Rupertsland – Gabor. They had a son, Brian.
489 Rupertsland – Name unknown.
485 Rupertsland – Bogach – Frank and Ann, her mother, and son Howard. Frank with his brothers ran Tasty Seeds located on Alfred that they had inherited from their father. Howard was recently profiled in the JP&N (August 16, 2023).
469 Rupertsland – Bogach – Maurice & Goldie Bogach and their daughters, Mindy and Evy. The parents played bridge with my parents and he owned Tasty Seeds with his brothers. I believed their children still reside in Winnipeg.
465 Rupertsland – Rodin. One of their two sons, Greg, is a lawyer in Calgary.
461 Rupertsland – Brass – Abe and Rose Brass and their children. Following his passing she moved to Vancouver to be closer to her children, where she later passed away.
516 Rupertsland – Plosker – Max and Bertha Plosker, daughter, and son Erron. The family owned Direct Home Furniture
512 Rupertslsand – Spiller – Jack and Ailenne and their children, Harley, Susan, Sari, and Deborah. I believe some of the children still reside in Winnipeg.
508 Rupertsland – Terhoch – Kurt & Pearl. He was an electrician. They had two sons, Leonard and Marvin, and a daughter, Cheryl. The oldest son, Marvin, was at one time a producer at CBC Winnipeg.
504 Rupertsland – Jacobson – Anne, Nat (d.2002), son Gary and daughter Arlene. Nat had a part job running the projector in movie theatres. At 106 (!), Ann is probably the last living individual of the generation that first moved onto Rupertsland Avenue. She currently resides at the Simkin Centre. Gary still lives in Winnipeg.
496 Rupertsland – Chodiker. One son, William (Bill), is an allergist, now retired, who lives in London, Ontario.
476 Rupertlsmand – Golubchuk – Samuel (d.2008) and Dora and children, Percy and Miriam. I believe they were the last Jewish family to move on to Rupertsland. Samuel was at the centre of a controversial legal battle dealing with the question of who has the right to make end-of-life decisions. This case was widely written about.
468 Rupertsland – Beloffs
Lastly, at the end of the street, there was a corner store (700 McGregor) run successively by Jewish owners, Mandel and later Slutsky.
Interestingly according to my late mother, Paul Snider of Dorothy Stratton murder fame, apparently lived on Rupertsland Avenue for a period of time.
Rupertsland was not a Jewish island in West Kildonan. Immediately behind my parents’ house across the back lane on Enniskillen Avenue, there were the:
Bokauts with sons, Barrie and Brad. I remember walking back home with Barrie and his father from the Bnay Abraham synagogue on Shabbat mornings. Barrie went on to work for Foreign Affairs Canada. I believe Brad still lives in Winnipeg,
Lezacks whose son, Jack, is a hematologist in Winnipeg, and
Este and Morris Katz. Their sons, David and Philip, tragically past away at early ages.
On Smithfield, there were other Jewish families such as the Senenskys and Gorewiches (my father’s brother-in law and sister).
Over the decades the ethnic and religious composition of Rupertsland Avenue changed as the original inhabitants aged and they and their children moved to other areas. Many of the children left Winnipeg – often to Calgary, Edmonton, or Toronto. Consequently, the demographics and character not only of the street but also of the local schools, institutions, and West Kildonan have changed. On Rupertsland at its peak, probably a third as many Jews lived there alone as compared the number of Jews now living in the entire West Kildonan area (205) according to the latest census. Consequently, many of the local Jewish institutions have moved, closed, or amalgamated. When my parents, being the last Jewish family on that block of Rupertsland Avenue, finally left in 2014, it marked the end of an era for the street.
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.
