The Next Generation: Bradley Beal

Every season the draft brings a fresh infusion of talent to the NBA. In theory this is an even, steady process. In practice, hindsight and historical perspective show that there are borders and boundaries — talent doesn’t just arrive in the NBA, it arrives in generational waves. Sometimes we can’t see these aesthetic dividing lines for decades, sometimes you simply can’t miss them.

The present day NBA appears to be on the cusp of welcoming a remarkable new generation to its forefront — players who are not just incredible but incredibly unique. Players who will not just excel but transform the roles and responsibilities of basketball players as we understand them. Over the course of this week, The Step Back will be examining many of the players who could figure prominently in The Next Generation. Not every player we turn our attention to is destined to be a star, but all could play a role in defining the future of the NBA. Read the whole series here.

The Next Generation: Bradley Beal

More like a grandfather than a modern marvel, the Washington Metro swayed forward with arthritic grace. A young girl, holding onto her father’s hand, stood out amongst a male army in t-shirt jerseys. The father’s other hand gripped the silver hand rail above their heads. When the train lurched, their bodies behaved like branches in a breeze. Anticipating the strain, their joints and tendons possessed an explicit familiarity with the pilgrimage to and from Chinatown. They spoke in casual, detached tones, underneath the city’s heft. The conversation’s timbre shifted, however, when the dad asked his young daughter: “What did you think of Beal tonight?”

Her face brightened: “Bradley was ballin’ out!”

The redline tracks pulsed underneath them, carrying the crowd away from the Verizon Center, whizzing towards L’Enfant Plaza, the District’s diamond-shaped periphery, the Potomac, and eventually the urban fray of northern Virginia. Outside the train’s windows was darkness, beyond that flashes of concrete. The dad pondered the girl’s lightbulb proclamation and responded with a moth-like dullness, “You’re right.”

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Even after the home team Wizards had triumphed over the visiting Heat, the man’s tone refused to let go of restraint. And such a sturdy refusal of New Year’s resolutions spoke to the precarious relationship between the Washington fanbase and their recently anointed Icarus, Bradley Beal. During the 2015-16 season, he missed a total of 25 games due to injury, arousing concern that the former number three pick might be a lofty promise carried on waxen wings.

After four seasons in the NBA, Washington fans still didn’t know what to make of the oft-injured wing player—could they trust him to stay healthy, or was he forever destined to miss twenty games a season for the rest of his career?Meanwhile, the player’s talents, particularly on the offensive end, were so obvious even a child could spot them.

His confidence in pick-and-roll situations. His movements off the ball. Everything ending in that textbook release.

Bradley Beal’s username on Twitter is @RealDealBeal23. For those sports fans old enough to remember, the moniker recalls that workmanlike challenger to Mike Tyson, Evander Holyfield. And yet, Bradley Beal never appears to be working so hard as a boxer inside the ring. Everything Beal does on the court he does so with ease, which helps to explain his other monikers, Big Panda and Blue Magic.

Drafted number three after one year at the University of Florida, Beal played in 56 games as a rookie. Almost two thirds of those games were played without John Wall in the lineup, essentially placing Beal alone in the spotlight. In those early games, his running curls and shooting off screens appeared to follow the bread crumbs of former Washington Wizard Richard Hamilton, which also meant his name frequently surfaced as trade bait for the likes of James Harden and Rudy Gay.

Like Hamilton before him, Beal, in his rookie year, very much looked like a player in need of other stars to be at his best. However, with Wall on the floor, Beal ran in wider spaces and released shots more quickly. Beal also provided the young point guard with his best running mate to date. The rookie wasn’t just another Trevor Ariza—he made Wall look better too.

In their second and third seasons together, Bradley Beal and John Wall led the Wizards to consecutive Eastern Conference semifinals. Perhaps the most important factor in those formative years together was two players discovering that whatever they couldn’t do alone on a basketball court, they could do together. Where Beal sometimes struggled to create his own shot, Wall created for him. And, when Wall’s shots wouldn’t fall, Beal took aim at the ocean. Together they completed a circuit. And, like any great songwriting duo, the attraction for listeners was in the contrast. But, as with the Lennon-McCartney partnership that shaped “A Day in the Life,” the partnership between Beal and Wall also produced rumors and jealousy.

This Washington season began with such discord and tension. (Wall was nicked up and recovering from injury too.) However, since that rough start, the Beal and Wall skillsets have, on occasion, dissolved into one another. As Wall has enjoyed one of his best shooting seasons, Beal can be found attacking the basket with a much greater frequency. If these developments continue, then perhaps last season’s difficulties will appear as nothing more than a glissando between whatever the Wizards were and what they are becoming, which is a legitimate threat in the Eastern Conference.

While other players in the 2012 draft class have found clearer paths to stardom, the largest obstruction in Beal’s path has always been his own bone structure. He ranks third in the class in career scoring, behind the likes of Anthony Davis and Damian Lillard, and while he ranks sixth in career value over replacement player, he is also likely to one day surpass Jae Crowder and possibly even Andre Drummond in that category. He is also likely to gain ground in win shares, where he currently ranks sixth, too. Of course, all this depends on his health. A map of his early career resembles an EKG chart more than a plot diagram. Any upward tic could very well be followed by a sharp plummet. Journalists and fans can do little more than look on, like Daedalus.

Now in his fifth season, Beal is over ninety games removed from that January night and the young girl’s exclamation to her dad on the Metro. That same stint is the healthiest of Beal’s career. He is also only 23 and averaging 23.2 points per game, the highest of his career by a wide margin. Consider the possibilities!

At the same age, Reggie Miller was scoring 16.0 points per game for an Indiana Pacer team that would manage only 28 wins. In kind, Ray Allen was scoring 17.1 points per game for a strangely loaded Milwaukee Bucks squad. That same year Milwaukee would finish only six games above .500 before being swept in the first round of the playoffs. Beal may or may not be as good as those guys. But with every soaring dunk, or successful post up, he sharpens his blade and feigns the movements of the league’s assassins.

That January Metro train would eventually emerge from the underground dark and glide over the Potomac, its surface collecting starlight. One can imagine the father and daughter made it home. One can imagine them making the same journey this year and knowing for sure that Bradley Beal is balling out.