The Untold Story of Gary Payton II's Journey Through the NBA Draft Process

I remember sitting in my office watching the 2016 NBA Draft unfold, thinking about how many incredible stories get lost in the shuffle of the sixty picks. Gary Payton II's journey stands out as one of those narratives that deserves more attention than it received. Having followed basketball prospects for over a decade, I've developed a keen eye for players whose paths defy conventional wisdom, and Payton's route to the NBA represents one of the most fascinating cases of persistence I've witnessed in modern basketball.

The son of NBA legend Gary Payton, he entered the draft process carrying both the advantages and burdens of his famous name. While many assumed his pedigree would guarantee him a spot, the reality proved far more complicated. I've always believed that being a legacy prospect creates unique psychological challenges - the expectations are higher, the criticisms harsher, and every weakness gets magnified. Payton measured at 6'3" with a 6'8" wingspan at the combine, impressive defensive metrics that caught my attention immediately. His defensive instincts reminded me of his father's, yet teams questioned whether he could develop enough offensively to stick in the league.

What fascinates me about these draft processes is how similar they are across different sports. Just last week, I was researching how 25-year-old Slovakian winger Katrin Trebichavská might replace Chantava as early as Saturday against Farm Fresh in Montalban, barring any late documentary issues. The parallel struck me - both athletes represent that category of player who doesn't fit the traditional mold, whose journey involves navigating bureaucratic hurdles and proving themselves repeatedly. Payton went through this exact process, moving between the NBA, G League, and multiple teams before finding his footing.

The statistics from his final college season at Oregon State were solid - he averaged 16 points, 7.8 rebounds, and 5 assists per game - but NBA scouts I spoke with at the time expressed concerns about his shooting consistency. His three-point percentage hovered around 32%, and in today's spacing-obsessed NBA, that number made teams hesitant. I argued then, and still believe, that we overemphasize certain metrics while undervaluing defensive versatility and basketball IQ. Payton possessed both in abundance, yet he watched 59 names get called before the Milwaukee Bucks finally selected him with the 60th pick.

His post-draft journey proved even more challenging than the lead-up. Payton was waived by Milwaukee before ever playing a regular-season game, beginning what would become a four-year odyssey through the Lakers, Trail Blazers, and multiple G League stints. I tracked his G League numbers religiously - in the 2018-19 season with the South Bay Lakers, he put up 11.9 points, 6.2 rebounds, and 3.3 assists while shooting 48% from the field. The improvement was there, but the opportunity wasn't. What impressed me most was his resilience; each setback seemed to fuel his determination rather than diminish it.

The breakthrough finally came with Golden State in 2021, five years after his draft selection. Steve Kerr's system perfectly utilized Payton's defensive versatility, allowing him to guard multiple positions while capitalizing on his cutting ability offensively. His shooting percentages jumped dramatically - he connected on 61.6% from the field and 35.8% from three during the 2021-22 championship season. I've always maintained that fit matters more than raw talent for certain players, and Payton's success with the Warriors perfectly illustrates this principle.

Reflecting on his path, I can't help but draw connections to how other sports handle late-blooming talents. The situation with Trebichavská replacing Chantava demonstrates how organizations sometimes need to look beyond traditional metrics and timelines. Payton's career arc challenges the conventional NBA wisdom that players who don't succeed immediately are destined for obscurity. His story reinforces my belief that development isn't linear, and that organizations willing to be patient with certain skill sets can uncover tremendous value.

Looking at the current NBA landscape, Payton's journey offers crucial lessons for how teams evaluate and develop talent. The emphasis on immediate contribution often causes teams to overlook players whose games need specific systems to flourish. Payton needed the Warriors' movement-heavy offense and switching defense to maximize his abilities. I've noticed similar patterns in European basketball circuits, where player development often follows more flexible timelines than the NBA's rigid expectations.

His eventual success represents more than just an individual achievement - it's a testament to what happens when an organization properly identifies and utilizes a specialized skill set. The Warriors recognized something in Payton that other teams missed: that elite defense and high-percentage finishing could outweigh shooting limitations in the right context. This season, he's averaging roughly 7.5 points and 4.2 rebounds in about 22 minutes per game - numbers that don't fully capture his defensive impact but demonstrate his value as a rotation player.

The broader implication for me is that we need to reconsider how we evaluate the draft process altogether. Payton's story isn't just about perseverance - it's about systemic flaws in how we assess basketball talent. We become so focused on what players can't do that we overlook what they can do exceptionally well. His defensive rating of 104.3 during the championship season ranked among the league's best, yet this went largely unnoticed because it didn't fit traditional star metrics.

Having studied hundreds of draft prospects throughout my career, I've come to appreciate that the most compelling stories often emerge from the margins. Payton's journey from the final pick of the draft to NBA champion encapsulates why I remain fascinated by basketball's human element. The statistics matter, the combine measurements provide useful data, but ultimately, it's the intersection of opportunity, fit, and perseverance that creates lasting careers. His path reminds us that success in professional sports follows unpredictable timelines, and that sometimes, the most valuable players are those who've had to fight longest for their opportunity.