Ja Morant is buying tickets for 250 fans for Friday’s Grizzlies game. It’s a signal that the wait is finally over: Ja will soon return from a one-month absence to an explosive reception. While this is a welcome back party for Morant, it’s also a litmus test.

The Grizzlies have already signaled they are done waiting for the past to return. By moving Desmond Bane for a haul of assets rather than doubling down on a capped-out core, the front office bought itself a new timeline built around youth. And so far this season, Morant is failing to fit into it. The injuries, the suspensions, and the images of him waving a gun have been eclipsed by a more immediate concern: The present version of Ja is nowhere near the folk hero who put Memphis back on the NBA map with his electrifying heroics on the court.

Before Morant suffered a right calf strain, the Grizzlies limped to a 4-10 start that felt like a hangover from last season's nightmare. New head coach Tuomas Iisalo brought in a pick-and-roll scheme designed to leverage Morant’s downhill gravity, but the disconnect was immediate.

Morant’s rim pressure, which was once his superpower, had vanished, with at-rim shots dropping to a career-low 26% of his shot diet. When he did get there, he finished at a career-worst 55%. He also shot a dismal 16.7% from deep and averaged a career-high 3.8 turnovers per game.

The effort matched the numbers. Off the ball, he was stationary. Defensively, he was targeted. Earlier this season, when he was benched in the fourth quarter of a game, he was visibly detached, sat at the far end of the bench, and later undercut the coaching staff to reporters.

In the last month, while Morant has been sidelined, something amazing happened. The Grizzlies started winning. Seven of their last 10 games. The Grizzlies are running, cutting, and sharing the ball. With the offense buzzing, lottery picks like Zach Edey and Cedric Coward and second-rounders like Jaylen Wells and Cam Spencer are all looking like building blocks for the next decade.

The numbers are alarming. When Morant is on the floor, the Grizzlies make the fewest passes per half-court possession of any team in the NBA. They stop operating as a team and start functioning as an audience for one man. When he sits? They make the third-most passes.

From last to third. Just by removing one person.

And now, the main attraction is back. But is Morant coming back to amplify the team’s rhythm, or is he coming back to stop the music?

Perhaps it’s unreasonable to expect Morant to change his habits after playing one way for so long. But unless you’re an uber-efficient superstar, adaptation is the price of admission for a modern offense, and right now, the ball is sticking to Morant's hands like he’s playing with pine tar.

So far this season, 36 players, including Morant, have averaged at least 70 touches per game. Morant ranks behind only James Harden in seconds per touch and fifth, just behind Jalen Brunson, in dribbles per touch, which puts his ball dominance in the same class as the game’s elite creators. The problem is the Grizzlies are scoring only 0.97 points per Morant touch. That ranks dead last of those 36 players.

Dead last.

Morant holds the ball the longest, dribbles the most, and produces the least. It is the definition of a broken system, anchored by a star whose game is fast becoming a relic.

At one time, Morant had to be the savior of the Grizzlies. But right now, this group just needs a teammate who makes quick decisions, keeps the ball moving, and plays hard. And for the past three years, between the suspensions and the staggering lack of self-awareness, Morant has shown little interest in being one.

If Morant proceeds to hijack the offense, stifle the development of his young teammates, and turn a fluid operation into a stagnant isolation fest, the Grizzlies need to send him to the highest bidder.

But even if Memphis decides it's time to move him, the market may be dried up. Minnesota has fit concerns. The Clippers are devoid of assets. Even Sacramento’s historic desperation likely has limits. In Year 3 of a five-year, $197.2 million contract, Morant is in danger of playing himself onto an island unless he either produces like his old self or finally adapts his game to the team around him.

Ja bought tickets, but he can't buy patience. That, he has to earn.