NBA: Why Jimmer Fredette May Follow in Steve Nash's Footsteps
Perhaps, in the case of Jimmer Fredette, it's more important to think of the reasons he can succeed, in however small a fashion, before we list the oft-repeated, metronomic-paced reasons why he'll fail in his transition from college to professional ball.
He's not quick enough. He won't be able to create his own shot when faced with the long arms of NBA perimeter defenders, far more ubiquitous than what he faced in the Mountain West.
He can't play defense. He can't rebound. He's a promotional ploy. On and on and on.
They're all fair assessments, far from unfounded given some of the cautionary tales from recent seasons. Collegiate success in no way dictates a lengthy career in the pro ranks—at least not at the level previously enjoyed by the player.
The current thinking now is that if you haven't left school for the NBA after at least your sophomore year, you're of a different tier than the one-and-done guys who head to school to hone their game in tacit observance of the rule that prohibits players from jumping from high school anymore.
The most notable high-ranking college star who's since fallen flatter than soda left out at room temperature is Adam Morrison, the mustachioed man last seen as the Los Angeles Lakers human high-fiver extraordinaire.
The scoring sensation from Gonzaga, drafted by the Charlotte Bobcats with the No. 3 pick in the 2006 draft, enjoyed a decent rookie season in '06-07, averaging 11.8 points a game in just under 30 minutes a night. The 37 percent shooting percentage was worrisome, sure, but you figured it might take Morrison some time to get comfortable amid the athletic swirl of top-tier, lanky NBA defenders.
Unfortunately, he never improved upon that rookie campaign. In fact, he digressed, toiling in Charlotte for two more seasons, his scoring average hovering around the ignominious standard of five points a night, before being unloaded to the Los Angeles Lakers, where he suffered through a 2009-10 season spent mostly on the bench. He's now taking his game to Europe, and Red Star Belgrade for the upcoming season.
Yet before we embark upon the Morrison comparisons, it should be said that there have been far more athletic guards than Fredette who have washed out of the NBA, unable to cope with the daily grind for whatever reason. His potential for success in the league is not inextricably linked with his hops—or lack thereof.
What will ultimately decide his fate is how hard he's willing to work. Far more talented lottery picks than he have washed out before, unable to cope with the obligation of working furiously upon their games after years of scoring with consummate ease against lesser opponents.
Fredette is renowned as a workout enthusiast, dedicated to honing not just his game but his body during endless fitness sessions in high school and at BYU.
Perhaps it would have been easier had Jimmer been drafted at a lower stage of the draft than the No. 10 pick that saw him hop on over to Sacramento, Calif. from his then-base in Provo, Utah.
We forget that there are instances of other guards with middling athleticism who've carved a niche in this league.
Another high-scoring D-I guard was also drafted in that Morrison-laced 2006 draft class. J.J. Redick, who once wowed and polarized would-be critics and fawners with his play for Duke over the course of four seasons, could be construed as a similar type of player to Fredette.
Both are excellent shooters (Redick has a purer stroke), but neither is the quickest of guards. They've both won big at their universities, but missed out on national championships. Their hunger for success burns bright.
That trying NCAA tournament Sweet Sixteen match against Florida this past March, in which Fredette was battered and bloodied over the course of 40 minutes, drawing the considerable ire of Rick Reilly, must be viewed in light of his game against those same Gators a year previously, in the 2010 tournament's first round.
Fredette, as he showed with such remarkable consistency in 2010-11, can score in bunches like few we've ever seen. There will never be another Maravich, but he came awfully close for a night with that 52-point explosion against New Mexico.
It's not like he was scoring against guys with lead in their laced-up Nike's, either. While Redick certainly faced stiffer competition during the near-nonstop hell of the ACC conference season, the fact remains that both showed they could hang with the big boys.
Outsized expectations are justified when a player is a lottery pick, but it's worth noting that Fredette may take some time to make a sizable impact in this league.
Fredette may come to impact games with the sort of role Redick currently enjoys with the Magic, reaping the benefits of current Kings playmaker Tyreke Evans's slashing drives into the key, which could find the former Cougar open on the perimeter, free to knock down open jumpers with abandon.
Those circus shots that once "shot" him to fame may become far less frequent—one feels that Fredette might find himself shoved to the ground if he tries that kind of shot against the relentless competitors dotting NBA rosters—but his confident, savvy approach to playing the game will serve him well.
It's cliche to say a player "let's the game come to him," but Fredette has shown an impressive propensity to do just that.
Speaking of grounded guards, he could become a Steve Nash-type sensation. No one would have predicted Nash's career path when he was playing average basketball at-best with the Dallas Mavericks before taking off in the early 2000s while pairing with Michael Finley.
The Suns superstar has never been one to win a track race, yet he guided one of the most entertaining fast-paced offenses in history since moving to Phoenix in 2004. Nash was 30 when he made that switch. And his career took off like a rocket.
Instead of relying on physical attributes (or lack thereof, and that's no slight), Nash uses his considerable mental acumen and facility with the basketball to break down opponents. And he does it better than most, as his two MVP awards attest.
It took Nash years to grow into a 10 assist a night type of guard, but he did just that upon reaching Phoenix (averaging 11.5 per game in 2004-05, his first MVP season).
Fredette's definitely a thinker. Dan Patrick had a funny anecdote in his column in this week's past Sports Illustrated, in which the former BYU guard recounted a pre-draft interview conducted with the Utah Jazz in which he'd been asked what "three and three" meant to him.
Overthinking the potential answers, Fredette blurted out the Chicago Bulls' six championships in the '90s. Amused, the Jazz interviewer said "Most players usually just say, 'six'." (Sports Illustrated).
It may prove nothing more than an anecdote worth a chuckle or two, but it might give an indication as to the path Fredette's career might take.
One as bright as the "Sun" that Nash wears each game.
