The most contentious second-round prospect in NBA history is officially off the board. The Los Angeles Lakers spilled the league's worst-kept secret when the franchise made Bronny James the 55th selection in the 2024 draft.
Now it's time for critics to lay off the kid.
Had LeBron James' son been selected in the first round, thereby robbing a more deserving youngster of his chance at a guaranteed two-year contract (plus two additional option years), I'd understand the gripe. But spare me the outrage over a late second-rounder.
Over the years, teams looking to save money and preserve flexibility have used countless second-round picks to draft and stash international players they sometimes know will never sniff the NBA. I don't remember anyone complaining that those selections could've been used on more legitimate NBA prospects.
A 2019 study by the Sports Analytics Group at Berkeley found that roughly one-fifth of second-round picks drafted in the previous 5-10 years were still in the league. Looking at the 55th pick specifically, besides Oklahoma City Thunder revelation Aaron Wiggins, the other nine players drafted in that spot since 2014 have averaged 20.2 games in the Association. Only seven players drafted 55th or later in the 21st century have appeared in 300 games.
The chances are always slim that a player drafted as late as Bronny can carve out an NBA career. He isn't the worst player whose name has been called in the second round. Heck, plenty of first-round busts were probably worse ballers than LeBron's son. But they weren't LeBron's son, which is obviously where all of this vitriol is rooted.
As ESPN's Adrian Wojnarowski noted during Thursday's second-round broadcast, the NBA is rife with nepotism at all levels. Nowhere is this familial favoritism more rampant than in front offices and coaching circles, where jobs are even more scarce than they are on the court. Funny - no one seems to be clutching their pearls about that. Just like no one bats an eye when agents try to steer their clients to their desired destinations, or out of the second round altogether, when that client's last name isn't James.
And while there are genuine concerns about Bronny's size and overall skill set, remember that he was a bona fide NBA prospect before his cardiac arrest caused by a congenital defect (which has since been addressed). His willingness to get after it defensively, his length - James has a 6-foot-7 wingspan despite standing 6-foot-1 - and his shooting upside led draft experts to project him as a potential 3-and-D guard.
A top-20 recruit coming out of high school, he reminded us of those earlier projections at this year's combine, where his athleticism, energy, and shooting raised eyebrows. He recorded the sixth-highest max vertical leap out of 77 prospects who took part in the testing, and he posted the second-best mark in the non-stationary shooting drill.
There's also every indication that he's a coachable and diligent worker. I'm not ready to dismiss all of that because a teenager struggled in his lone collegiate season following a near-death experience, or because I'm in a rush to pile on the adolescent son of a player who's in the polarizing, often toxic GOAT debate.
Another year of schooling and NCAA ball might have been beneficial, but entering a more highly touted 2025 draft class would've brought risk as well. Having already secured an NBA opportunity, Bronny will now work with the highest level of skill-development staffers and trainers.
The next step is up to him. Bronny's name helped him get here, but it won't afford him meaningful playing time or NBA staying power. He'll sink or swim in the Association based on his performance alone.
If he manages to earn a role, what a wonderful story it would be for a young man who nearly lost everything a year ago. If he falls by the NBA wayside like most players drafted in his range, it seems there's a miserable lot who'll be eager to rejoice in that result, too.
Joseph Casciaro is theScore's senior content producer.
