The 2001 NBA Draft Class: Where Are They Now and Their Legacy

I still remember watching the 2001 NBA Draft unfold on television, that particular June evening when basketball futures were being decided. As a lifelong basketball analyst and historian, I've always found draft classes fascinating—they're like time capsules of basketball evolution. The 2001 class wasn't initially considered particularly strong, especially compared to the legendary 2003 class that followed, but looking back two decades later, I'm struck by how many impactful careers emerged from that group.

When we talk about the 2001 draft, the conversation naturally begins with Pau Gasol, selected third overall by the Atlanta Hawks before being traded to Memphis. I've always admired how Gasol revolutionized the power forward position with his unique combination of size, skill, and basketball IQ. Standing at 7 feet tall, he brought European finesse to a position traditionally dominated by physicality. His numbers speak for themselves—over 20,000 career points, six All-Star appearances, and those crucial back-to-back championships with the Lakers in 2009 and 2010. What many casual fans might not realize is that Gasol actually averaged 17.6 points and 8.9 rebounds as a rookie—immediately establishing himself as a franchise cornerstone.

Then there's Tony Parker, the 28th pick who became the steal of the draft. I'll never forget watching his development under Gregg Popovich's guidance. That teardrop floater became iconic, and his ability to control the game's tempo was something I haven't seen replicated since. Four championship rings, a Finals MVP in 2007, and over 19,000 career points tell only part of the story. Parker's impact on international basketball cannot be overstated—he paved the way for European guards in a league that had been skeptical about their potential.

The draft also produced significant role players who had remarkable longevity. Shane Battier, selected sixth by Memphis, became the prototype for the modern 3-and-D forward years before that term became commonplace. His defensive versatility and high basketball IQ allowed him to play 13 productive seasons. Meanwhile, Zach Randolph, picked 19th by Portland, transformed from a troubled talent into a respected veteran who gave Memphis its "Grit and Grind" identity. I've always believed Randolph's mid-career transformation doesn't get enough attention when discussing player development success stories.

Joe Johnson, the 10th pick, developed into a seven-time All-Star with his clutch shooting and isolation mastery. His game-winners became must-watch television, and I distinctly remember arguing with colleagues about whether he was truly "clutch" or just took a lot of difficult shots—I've since come around to appreciating his fearlessness in big moments. Gilbert Arenas, selected 31st, provided some of the most electrifying and ultimately tragic narratives from this class. His rise from second-round pick to superstar was inspirational, while his later career struggles served as cautionary tales about locker room dynamics and firearm safety in professional sports.

What's particularly interesting to me about analyzing this class two decades later is seeing how their legacies have evolved. While it produced only two surefire Hall of Famers in Gasol and Parker, the depth of quality starters and rotation players was actually quite impressive. Players like Tyson Chandler (second overall), Richard Jefferson (13th), and Gerald Wallace (25th) all had seasons where they were among the league's best at their positions. Chandler, in particular, won Defensive Player of the Year in 2012 and anchored Dallas' championship defense in 2011—proving that even players who took longer to develop could achieve greatness.

The international influence of this class cannot be overlooked either. Beyond Gasol and Parker, we saw players like Mehmet Okur, Vladimir Radmanovic, and Hedo Turkoglu stretch defenses with their shooting at a time when big men shooting threes was still somewhat novel. This draft class genuinely helped accelerate the NBA's stylistic evolution toward spacing and skill over pure physicality.

Looking at the complete picture, I'd argue the 2001 draft class deserves more credit than it typically receives. While it lacked the superstar wattage of some other classes, it produced multiple champions, franchise cornerstones, and players who fundamentally influenced how basketball is played. The careers that emerged from this group demonstrate that player development isn't always linear, and that draft position only tells part of the story. Two decades later, we can see how these players shaped the league we watch today—from Gasol's skilled big man revolution to Parker's international pathway to Battier's analytical approach to defense. Their collective legacy reminds us that greatness in the NBA comes in many forms, and that the true measure of a draft class reveals itself over years, not just seasons.