Appreciating J.J. Redick’s transformation from arrogant star to loveable role player

I resented J.J. Redick tremendously while he was at Duke. He was brash, arrogant, and success always seemed to come his way without much effort. The only thing that made the guy marginally more likable was the fact that he never seemed to slap the floor while playing defense like so many of his teammates.

Probably because I disliked him, I wasn’t sure how well Redick’s game would transfer to the NBA when he was selected No. 11 overall in the 2006 NBA Draft by the Orlando Magic. He could shoot the lights out, but he was only going to get a portion of the 17.9 shots per game he took as a senior at Duke. Additionally, he was going to have to work much harder to get good shots in the NBA, and I didn’t necessarily think he had that in him. For a couple seasons, my half-baked, biased thoughts on Redick’s game didn’t seem so silly.

As young players in the Association often do, Redick struggled to adjust to a new role and the less forgiving professional game as part of the Magic organization. Despite shooting a great percentage from beyond the arc right out of the gate, that alone was not enough to earn him more than spot minutes during his first few seasons.

Early in his career, Redick finally proved to be fallible, human. He wasn’t good enough defensively, and he still had not adapted to working almost exclusively off the ball on offense. His shortcomings placed him on a potential crash course with an early exit from the NBA.

Just as it appeared Redick wasn’t making a great deal of progress, he revealed a new side of himself that I either previously chose to ignore or had never existed. He acknowledged the need to adapt his skill set and became a workhorse to create staying power for himself.

During a recent segment on The Vertical podcast with Adrian Wojnarowski, Redick bluntly stated that “to last in this league you have to be a worker.” That’s not just lip service. Redick attacked that hard truth head on as a young gun trying to make an impact. There was something very admirable and selfless about Redick humbling himself and developing from a college star into an NBA role player.

He’s done all the things I didn’t think he would want to do or be capable of doing in the league. On the court, he’s turned into a relentless mover off the ball who outsmarts his defender in countless ways before popping open for a jumper as wet as ever. His defender can do nothing but hang his head in defeat. Defensively, he works equally hard, locking down players with glaring athletic advantages.

Off the court, Redick is an absolute delight. He’s one of the best players in the NBA with the media as he’s not one to give canned answers. He even has his own, brand new podcast as part of The Vertical.

I’m not sure Redick would be the guy he is on or off the court today if he hadn’t recognized his limitations early in his career. It’s been beautiful to see him acknowledge that basketball is just a game while simultaneously outworking everybody else to be his best self within that game. He understands that his Los Angeles Clippers squad as currently constructed only has so many chances to win a championship, and that knowledge keeps him working so vigorously.

Redick is having the best season of his career right now, and I couldn’t be happier for him. The prevalent image of him as the precocious kid he was at Duke, which he struggled to shed early in his career,  is deservedly long gone. He’s earned the right to be so much more than that. He’s limited, complex, vulnerable, and eager to make a difference while he still can — just like the rest of us. Who can hate a man like that?