Yesterday the Trail Blazers made it official: Darius Miles will no longer suit up in the Red & Black.

Pursuant to NBA procedures with regard to career-ending injuries, the Portland Trail Blazers have requested waivers on forward Darius Miles, General Manager Kevin Pritchard announced today.

An independent medical examiner jointly appointed by the NBA and the NBA Players Association examined Miles and determined that the damage to Miles’ right knee is severe enough to qualify as a career-ending injury.

Well, we all saw that coming.

There’s no arguing with a knee injury that is described as “severe enough to qualify as a career-ending injury,” yet Miles’ departure will forever be clouded by the fact that his character and attitude always seemed more “career-ending” than his knee.

Over the past few years the Portland media—cough, cough—has gone out of their way to paint Miles as the villain, the cornrows cog gumming up the works of a successful franchise. They condemned his off the court lifestyle, and work habits, yet the far more charismatic Greg Oden—who also sat there uselessly with a knee injury—got a complete pass.

Did you know that Oden wanted to be a dentist? That is so adorable. Darius Miles? Oh, he's a thug, a real Jail Blazer.

The rundown:
- His immense level of talent was never fully realized.
- He underachieved on the court.
- He was severely overpaid.
- As a veteran of a young team, he failed to take the reigns and lead them to victory.

While I just described what was wrong with Miles, it's also the same list the applies to numerous NBA players. Hell, you could say the same thing for Raef LaFrentz. Plus in the rush to shove Miles out the door—and into that sweet whip of his—few people are taking the time to condemn the franchise itself for dropping a comical amount of money on raw potential like Miles. Despite never living up to his skills in Cleveland or Los Angeles, the team was more than happy to take a $48 million dollar gamble on him

As a fan, I choose to remember Miles as basketball player, and only that. He was entertaining, disappointing, and did that cool "devil horns," fists-to-head, bump after making a shot. He wasn't the poster child for a dark era of Portland sports, the anti-christ in a Blazers uniform, or the sole reason this franchise stalled out for so many years. He wasn't at the helm of the sinking ship, he was just on board. But now that Miles has finally cleaned out his locker of every last headband, this team is without a scapgoat, an easy target to blame when things go wrong.

It really won't be the same without him.

To read a far superior eulogy on Miles' career, visit Blazer's Edge.