Features
Rosie Sharp: wife of Four Seasons Hotels founder Issy Sharp lays it all out in her memoir
By BERNIE BELLAN I’m not much for reading autobiographies; I prefer to read someone else’s account of a person’s life because I figure you’re much more likely to find out what someone’s life was truly like when it was written by someone else – warts and all.
However, when I was asked whether I might like to receive an advance copy of the memoir of Rosalie Sharp whose name, to be honest, was unfamiliar to me – but who, I was informed, was the wife of Four Seasons Hotel founder Isadore Sharp – I thought: Sure, it’s always interesting to read of the lives of the rich and famous – and when they’re Jewish and Canadian to boot, let’s go for it.
Now, to be even more honest, as much as I’ve heard plenty about Four Seasons hotels – that they set the standard for service and luxury when it comes to hotels, I had never read much about Isadore Sharp. How much would his wife want to talk about her husband in her memoir, I wondered? And how good a writer would she be?
The answer to the first question is: Quite a bit, while the answer to the second question is that Rosalie Sharp is an excellent writer. No doubt she received quite a bit of help in putting together this very interesting book but, as she explains early on, she has written quite a few books previously, mostly having to do with interior design – which is one of her two utmost passions – the other being painting.
What surprised me most about Rosalie Sharp though is how much her formative years as a young girl in Toronto still leave a strong imprint on her, even today, as she must now be 87. (She completed the book in 2021 when she was 86, she explains.) Isadore, by the way, is 91. They’re both as healthy as one could hope two seniors in their dotage could be expected to be. As a matter of fact, “Rosie”, as she prefers to be known, is quite candid in describing her own health situation. At one point she tells a funny story about having a colonoscopy recently, but while she is driving home in Issie’s fancy Mercedes, she can’t hold it in. She goes on to tell how she hid her accident from Issie when she came home, stripping off her dress without him seeing and running out to the car with a pail of soap and water and cleaning up.
The book is full of interesting stories. Rosie (née Wise) grew up in a very poor household in the 1930s – where there was no telephone, but where the phone book served as a substitute for toilet paper. Her parents lived in a non-Jewish area of Toronto, where they ran a dry goods store. Mr. Wise was also an excellent tailor. As for Mrs. Wise, however, Rosie still has an aversion to soup, she explains, after having grown up smelling her mother’s absolutely horrible broth – which she could never bring herself to taste.
Although the book devotes a certain amount of space to describing Issy Sharp’s much more comfortable upbringing – which Rosie writes about in an early chapter, prior to going into detail about her own much more difficult childhood, the lesson that one takes from reading about young Issy is how brimming with confidence he was, even at a very young age. Not only that, he was extremely good looking – as the very many photographs interspersed throughout the book illustrate.
He was also a terrific athlete. Issy was gifted in so many sports, while Rosie never had the opportunity to take piano lessons, which she so desperately wanted to take as a youngster. She also never learned to swim, she admits, but that didn’t stop her from being a sport and donning a life jacket while going on a canoe trip with the family once – or even waterskiing.
The story how Issy and Rosie met at a wedding makes for a great romantic tale. But Rosie admits that she knew of Issy’s reputation as a consummate ladies’ man – and she honestly doubted that he would remain true to her once they became a couple. There are quite a few instances in the book when Rosie describes her own naiveté about sex – something with which Issy was extremely well versed. (He was 22 when they met; she was 17.) Yet, he was always extremely considerate toward Rosie when it came to the physical side of their relationship. She does reveal though that she became pregnant when she was only 19 and did have an abortion because neither she nor Issy were ready to start a family at that point.
While the book does a good job of delving into how Issy Sharp was an absolute genius when it came to building – not just hotels, but apartment blocks as well, to the point where, as of the date of publication of the book, there are now 134 Four Seasons hotels throughout the world, it wasn’t the pursuit of riches that drove Issy, according to Rosie. They have certainly led very comfortable lives, but the first five years of their marriage were spent living in a very humble apartment, she says, and although they’ve moved several times during their lifetime together, it’s been the building and decorating of homes that has been the attraction for them, rather than the accumulation of “toys.”
In fact, Rosie never cared much about things like cars, she says. In one amusing anecdote she describes her driving in what she thought was a Toyota Land Cruiser for years, only to discover that it had a Volvo logo in it. As a collector though, Rosie has been obsessed with the accumulation of ceramic figures, along with a certain number of paintings, she notes – but it’s her ceramic figure collection, which extends into the thousands, of which she’s proudest.
Early on in life Rosie exhibited true artistic talent. She tells of drawing hand lettered signs for her parents’ dry good store that were so well done that people seeing them thought they had been printed by a machine. Later she parlayed her artistic eye into a love for interior design. Even while she was raising four young boys, Issy encouraged her to acquire a formal education in interior design, which she did. She eventually opened her own interior design firm. Much of her work, as one might expect, was for Four Seasons hotels, but she wasn’t given the work simply because she was married to the boss. Issy pays full credit to the many innovations Rosie introduced into the hotels over the years.
At times though, I must admit I was somewhat bored reading Rosie’s quite detailed descriptions of her projects. While she is certainly extremely descriptive, I’m not sure how much readers really care to read about design – whether it be interior design or the design of ceramic objects. Of course, those are both two of Rosie’s passions – and she is allowed to indulge herself as much as she likes. It’s her memoir, after all.
Where I think Jewish readers of a certain age will find this book most resonating though is when Rosie writes about the many relatives she lost in the Holocaust. There is a great amount of time spent exploring the lives of her predecessors in Poland. Rosie can trace her family roots back to the 1700s. (She also does quite a bit of the same for the Sharp family.)
Both she and Issy grew up in Yiddish-speaking households and Rosie harbours a great deal of nostalgia for those early years. Like most Jews growing up in the 1930s the Wise household was an observant home. (She tells a hilarious story about being sent to a butcher a long way off to buy a chicken for the Friday night dinner, but having the bloody chicken, freshly slaughtered, ooze all over her on the bus ride home.) She also emphasizes how important having regular Shabbat dinners with their family has been for both her and Issy throughout their lives – only to see that disrupted when Covid hit. (As a matter of fact, it was Covid that led to her writing this book, as she found that she had quite a bit more time on her hands than would normally have been the course.) In a departure from her observant upbringing though, Rosie says the only time she sets foot in a synagogue nowadays is during Yom Kippur – and that she doesn’t believe in God.
Interestingly, while Rosie acknowledges the role she’s played for years as the wife of a charming and brilliantly successful businessman, accompanying him on many trips to far off lands where it was her duty to sit through endless dinners with some of the world’s most powerful figures (including one ghastly dinner in Japan where she says the fish that was served was still wriggling!), Rosie hardly sees herself as a society maven. She did her duty – and often contributed to the success of Four Seasons on her own, both as a designer and as the gracious wife of a very powerful man, yet she notes over and over again that she feels most at home in her own house – and there have been many different ones over the years, including a home that they rebuilt from scratch in Palm Springs.
Here’s a description of Issie and Rosie’s harmonious relationship, as given by their son Tony on the occasion of their 62nd wedding anniversary:
“She paints. He promotes. They are full-fledged partners in life.
“Partners in bridge: she is the one who takes the risks and swings for the fences, and he plays more by the book and the percentages, yet rarely an argument, and they regularly place near the top.
“Partners in design…not the least of which is their new bungalow, where our dad concerned himself with light, views, and land assembly, and our mom, the architecture, interior design…Partners in dance. and, can they dance! Partners in fitness – still following Jane Fonda’s Advanced Workout from 1985…
“Partners in philanthropy. Including what our mother considers one of our father’s best achievements: establishing the Terry Fox Run. Proposed in a telegram from our dad to Terry, the run is now the largest single-day fundraising event in the world, having raised $750 million for cancer research.
“And of course, partners as parents. Sharing and living the values that have guided us as a family, and for which we are grateful.”
By this time, if you’ve read this far, you must be thinking: What a perfect couple – and I’m sure they are, but if I could ask two questions of Rosie, they would be this:
You had a son named Chris who died tragically at only age 17 when a melanoma was improperly diagnosed by a doctor. You write so eloquently of what that loss meant to the two of you – as I’m sure it would to any other parents who have lost a child.
But – why “Chris?” I know that it’s not totally unheard of for a Jewish child to be named Chris or Kristina, although from what I’ve read, it’s often when one of the parents isn’t Jewish. But both you and Issy came from traditional Jewish upbringings. Was there a particular reason that you chose to name your youngest son “Chris?”
And, my second question: I had to do some research to see that you and Issy have contributed substantially to many different causes, including the Hebrew University of Jerusalem. But nowhere in your book do I see any evidence that you took a particular interest in philanthropy yourself, especially as it relates to Jewish causes. I would imagine that someone of your renown would have been asked many times to lend their name to a particular Jewish fund-raiser. Perhaps it wasn’t of sufficient interest for you to write about that – or maybe it just wasn’t your thing. But, as someone who espouses the importance of Jewish values so strongly, wouldn’t “tzedakkah” have been one of the most important values? I’m not saying this as a criticism because I see that when you do a search of all the causes to which you and Issy have contributed, the list is a lengthy one. But I’m somewhat puzzled that, other than the Terry Fox Run, there’s no mention of any other cause to which you might have attached yourselves. After all, Issy is worth over $500 million from what I’ve read (while the Four Season hotel chain, which is now owned primarily by Bill Gates – is valued at over $10 billion).
Still, let’ s not let these fairly petty questions detract from what is, on the whole, quite the entertaining read.
“Me & Issy – A Four Seasons Romance”
By Rosalie Wise Sharp
Published by ECW Press, Toronto, 2022
274 pages
Available in both print and Kindle editions
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.
