Devin Carter, the Boston Celtics and That 26.3% Gap: A Two-Way Gamble in the NBA Regular Season

The summer in Atlanta ended with a short phone call. Inside the Hawks' meeting room, sixteen guaranteed contracts were read aloud while league rules allow only fifteen names on the standard roster. One spot had to be cut, and the name cut was Devin Carter — the thirteenth pick of the 2026 draft, sent from Sacramento to Atlanta in a salary-clearing deal, then waived days later.

There was no farewell press conference. No thank-you post. Just a short administrative notice and a name disappearing from the depth chart. Applause echoing in an empty gym is still news.

Within days, Jake Fischer reported that the Boston Celtics were weighing a two-way contract for Carter. A team still in the contender tier was picking up a player two organisations had discarded within six weeks. In the middle of the offseason, that kind of item usually gets skimmed past. But inside it are three different stories about the same question: how do NBA teams price a human being when the regular season is only weeks away?

Context: a market that has frozen but not thawed

September is the grey zone of the NBA. The big contracts were signed in July. Teams are now tinkering at the edges — where a two-way slot, a minimum deal, or a waiver decision can decide a person's entire season.

Atlanta is stuck. Sixteen guaranteed contracts signal ambition but also inefficiency; at least one of those names is overpaid relative to production. The Hawks must make one more move before the season tips off, and the price is a luxury-tax bill larger than necessary.

The Clippers are the opposite: enough roster spots, but their hands are tied. A cap-circumvention penalty hangs over the organisation, along with a five-year compliance and monitoring programme and the risk of lost draft picks. Derrick Jones Jr.'s $10.5M expiring deal is the most valuable asset they can still move — and they are the team least able to move it smoothly.

Boston has the most valuable thing in September: an open roster spot and a little money.

The 26.3% crack

In Sacramento, Carter played 74 games across two seasons and averaged 8.9 points. The number that matters more is his three-point shooting: 26.3%.

League average has hovered around 36-37% for years. For a guard around 6'3", a ten-point gap is not a short adjustment phase. It is a structural shooting problem. Seventy-four games is a large enough sample to rule out flukes. A guard shooting under 30% for two straight seasons is not treated as developing; he is treated as solved by opposing scouts.

From my experience watching game tape, Carter's problem is not shot selection. He moves well off the ball, cuts on time, defends fast enough to stay in front of quick guards. What is missing is wrist stability under pressure. In Sacramento he was often catching the ball needing to decide in a split second, and his miss rate spiked when the shot clock dipped under seven seconds.

Placed next to Boston's system, the conflict is immediate. The Celtics run on high-volume three-point shooting and constant ball movement. Any guard entering that system must answer one question: when the ball swings to him in the corner, does the defence pay a price? At 26.3%, the answer is no. Defenders will leave him and shrink the floor, and the spacing architecture collapses.

Boston is buying a mechanism, not a shooter

Carter has played two NBA seasons, which keeps him eligible for a two-way contract. Boston has an open spot, minimum money, and full flexibility in how they sign him.

Boston is not signing Carter to find a shooter; they are signing him to preserve an open roster spot for February. If the Celtics convert him to a two-way rather than a guaranteed minimum, the fifteenth spot stays intact — and that spot is worth far more when the buyout market opens after the midseason trade deadline.

That is the kind of move contending organisations make, and it makes the Carter story far lighter than the headline suggests. Downside is near zero. If he shoots better, Boston wins. If not, they lose a two-way slot and move on.

A trade report is not dry; it tells the story of lives taking a turn. Carter's path from Sacramento to Atlanta and possibly to Boston was drawn by three front offices in six weeks. He did not move on his own plan; he moved on his paymasters' plan.

Derrick Jones Jr. and the paradox of a tied-down Clippers

Jones is entering the final year of a $10.5M deal. Per Clippers beat reporter Tomer Azarly, he has not requested a trade, and both sides are open to an extension.

For an athletic, multi-positional wing who finishes above the rim, $10.5M is below market. Comparable players sign for $14-16M a season. That gap is exactly why agents push clients into contract years.

The interesting part is leverage. The Clippers cannot wait comfortably, because the five-year monitoring programme puts every personnel decision under a microscope. Jones' camp has no reason to rush, because a 28-year-old wing's value is clearest when the season tightens and buyers multiply. Neither side is panicking — but neither side truly holds the cards.

The Clippers penalty and the strange language of a sentence

The NBA Board of Governors meets in New York on Monday and Tuesday, with the Clippers' situation on the agenda. Penalties could hold or escalate, and a court challenge remains an open scenario.

What stands out is the phrasing: a compliance and monitoring programme lasting five years. Normal NBA penalties have clear endpoints — a fine, a forfeited pick. An open-ended five-year monitoring regime reads more like a financial regulator than a sports league. It does not just punish the past; it shapes the future.

With Kawhi Leonard at 34 and James Harden at 36, the Clippers' window does not shut immediately. It narrows with every decision that gets tied down.

Contrarian angle: changing arenas does not change your wrist

The assumption behind the Carter story is easy on the ear: put a poor shooter in a good shooting system and he will shoot better. That assumption carries a familiar flaw — survivorship bias.

The stories retold are always about players who changed teams and broke out. The ones who changed teams and kept shooting 26% are never written. In years of watching games, the number of players who lifted their three-point rate from below 27% to above 36% after a system change fits on one hand. Most simply keep the same efficiency with better shot quality. A better shooting environment rarely turns a bad shooter into a good one — it makes the shot easier, not the wrist steadier.

That is why Carter's real value to Boston lies elsewhere. He is an administrative chess piece: two-way eligible, negligible salary, cuttable at any moment. If he becomes a genuine rotation player, that is a bonus, not an expectation.

In Atlanta there is another lesson. The Hawks took Carter and his $5.1M salary to acquire a second-round pick, then waived him. In their arithmetic the real asset was the pick; Carter was a temporary bridge across a bookkeeping gap. That pattern will repeat around the trade deadline, whenever sellers need a third team to absorb salary.

On expansion, another paradox appears. The Board of Governors reportedly cares more about NBA Europe than domestic expansion, even though the European project only launches in October 2027 with twelve permanent teams and four qualifying teams. Expansion fees of $500-600M per team, totalling $15-18B, are the nearer money. Las Vegas is expected to be approved before Seattle, meaning the city that lost its team may wait another two to three years.

What to remember for the rest of the season

When EuroLeague owners meet in Italy on October 5 to decide whether to partner with the NBA, the European project's fate will sharpen. When the Board of Governors finishes in New York, the Clippers' fate will sharpen. Carter will likely sign a two-way deal in Boston within weeks, and almost nobody will remember his name by November.

That is how the regular season works. Before the standings have numbers, before referee debates erupt, teams have already shaped their destinies with small decisions nobody headlines. Whether the arena is full or empty, the ball obeys the same law — only the players change.

For Boston, the question is not whether Carter shoots better. It is whether the front office has the patience to hold the fifteenth spot until February, when someone else's disappointment becomes the right playoff piece. For Carter, the question is simpler: will he get enough floor time to prove that 26.3% was one chapter, not the whole book?