When people talk about the future of basketball, they’re talking about Cade Cunningham. As the NBA approaches its post-Lebron era, positions—and the responsibilities they entail—have become increasingly decoupled from size. The idea of a ball-dominant offensive initiator still exists, but now, the role is as likely to be filled by somebody who looks like Jimmy Butler as it is by somebody who looks like Trae Young. In this sense, Lebron’s ultimate legacy is the way that he’s broadened the horizons of primary ball-handler-dom, emboldening a generation of would-be power forwards in the process. Last season, seven of the top 15 assisters were taller than 6’6; 20 years ago, zero of the top 15 were.
Cunningham, the 6’8 19 year-old who went number one overall in last night's NBA draft, fits snugly within today’s lineage of big playmakers. It’s probably reductive to call him the American Luka Doncic, but it’s not wholly unfounded. Through college and high school, he spent the bulk of his basketball education discovering how to manipulate the arrangement of the court. His moves are calculated—he plays with a learned prescience, an understanding of how his actions force equal and opposite defensive reactions. Although he posted a negative assist-to-turnover ratio last season, that was more of an indictment of his circumstance than his ability. Opposing defenses, unworried by the future I.T. guys and accountants who were his Oklahoma State teammates, focused solely on harassing Cunningham; he could’ve easily doubled his average of 3.5 assists per game if his teammates simply missed fewer shots.
Whereas most young primary ball handlers play with an overflow of turnover-prone bravura as their imagination writes a check that their body can’t cash, Cunningham’s defining trait is his steadiness. Rather than stubbornly trying to manifest the spectacular, he’s simply a conduit for good outcomes. To a degree, Cunningham’s approach can resemble that of a jumbo Chris Paul, ably directing the offense with unflagging competence.
Still, Cunningham is no game-managing checkdown merchant. He’s not a passive or cowardly decision-maker—he’s a realistic one, capitalizing on the opportunities that present themselves on the court rather than the ones that only exist in his own head. Thanks to the ways that offenses have weaponized shooting and spacing, it’s nearly impossible for defenses to remain structurally sound for an entire possession; every defense will show cracks, but the great ones can seal them faster. Subsequently, his playmaking aptitude stems from his ability to identify quickly when and where an advantage is available. With the ball in his hands, he’s not so much playing basketball as he is playing Duck Hunter, instantly spotting targets as they pop up and rifling them the ball.