“Time does not exist as a horizontal line but rather in a vertical relationship to the present.”
—Rebecca Walker
Stop. Find your DeLorean, TARDIS, displacement sphere, or phone booth—whatever you’ve got access to. Set the destination. Close your eyes.
When you arrive, it’s 2003. The San Antonio Spurs have just won the NBA championship in a 4-2 rock fight against the New Jersey Nets. Only twice did either team break 90. Tim Duncan holds the crown as the best player in the league and bigs continue to rule
supreme; the last of the great dinosaurs. The game is played down low. Slow. Like the August news cycle.
But around the corner, change looms.
A transatlantic migration has already begun. A new regnal era approaches. Threatening that is a one-and-done collegiate champion.
In the shadows, a flash.
Cyclical: The context
State of the franchise
First, the timing. Coming off a relative golden era, the Miami Heat are in the NBA’s basement. Seven-time All-Star; two-time All-NBA, All-Defensive, and Defensive Player of the Year; and best player in franchise history, Alonzo Mourning, just missed the entirety of the 2002-2003 season as the Heat finished 25-57, the fourth-worst record in the league. Then, in the offseason, he rips the franchise’s heart out, joining the rival Nets in a move NBA GMs envision having the third most impact of any player acquisition. And so the Heat are forced to retool, placing their bets on an uber-talented 6’10” forward with plenty of question marks and a freshly-drafted 6’4” combo-guard dubbed an “NCAA Tournament standout [who] can contribute now.”
That combo-guard is Dwyane Wade.
Draft class
Despite being a highly-touted prospect, Wade doesn’t have the fanfare of his draft class counterparts. He isn’t a 6’8” teenage phenom ready to transform a long-suffering franchise. Nor is he a polished, inside-and-out forward ready to drop 20 a night from the jump. He doesn’t have the tantalising appeal of a versatile, lithe big, either. Even “worse,” he’s older than all of them, putting a supposed cap on his ceiling.
Despite these limitations, Wade bursts onto the scene, finishing third in Rookie of the Year voting with 117 points, trailing only LeBron James (508 points) and Carmelo Anthony (430 points). More importantly, he helps the Heat surpass the 35 wins projected for them prior to the season, finishing 42-40 and beating the New Orleans Hornets in the first round before succumbing to the Indiana Pacers in the Eastern Conference Semifinals. That offseason, Miami trades for Shaquille O’Neal and, well, you know the rest from there.
Now and then: The players
Scouting report
Now, the players. Here, in all of its archival glory—courtesy of another time-bending device (the Wayback Machine)—is Wade’s NBA Draft.net pre-draft scouting report. And here, as you see it today, is Burries’.
From a qualitative standpoint, it’s hard not to see the parallels. Different worlds, different era, remarkably similar players. For starters, they are—for the sake of this exercise, and considering time’s vertical stacking, we’ll stick with present tense—both physical guards with NBA-ready frames:
- Now: Burries is a “Strong, well-built guard with good positional size and an NBA-ready frame”
- Then: Wade “Has an NBA ready body”
Both also excel because of their fast-twitch first steps:
- Now: Burries “Shows a deliberate and quick first step that allows him to gain separation off the dribble.”
- Then: Wade “Possesses one of the most explosive first steps in all of college basketball…”
They weaponise both of these—physicality and explosion—to finish through contact too:
- Now: Burries “Excels in transition where his blend of strength, coordination, and athleticism allows him to finish above the rim or through contact.”
- Then: Wade “Has an NBA ready body which usually allows him to finish after contact occurs”
And excel as rebounders despite their shorter statures:
- Now: Burries “Does a very good job rebounding the ball for a guard”
- Then: Wade “is an excellent rebounder”
Both even raise similar lead-guard concerns:
- Now: Burries has “questions about his full-time point guard projection,” is “Still developing as a pure facilitator in pick-and-roll situations,” and has a “Handle [that] is solid but not elite”
- Then: Wade “is dangerously close to being a combo guard. Too small to be a shooting guard not enough point guard skills to run a team offense” and his “ball handling could stand to be improved if he is to play some point guard in the NBA”
As defenders, they are disruptive:
- Now: Burries is a “Disruptive defensive presence with solid anticipation (1.5 spg), frequently jumping passing lanes and creating turnovers,” a “Physical defender who competes on that end and uses strength well at the point of attack,” and “Shows the ability to impact the game on both ends with his energy, instincts, and feel”
- Then: Wade “Plays solid perimeter defense and understands how to cut-off the passing lanes”
Beyond skillsets, both exhibit clear leadership qualities too:
- Now: Burries “Emerged as Arizona’s go-to scorer and emotional leader” and is a “High-level competitor with clear leadership traits”
- Then: Wade “Plays very poised and mature for his age. Seems to maintain the same facial expression regardless if his team is up or down by 30 points” and “Has become more of a leader this year”
Remove the names throughout these and you’d be hard pressed to work out which describes whom. The point is clear: prior to playing a game in the L, Burries and Wade were seen by scouts in the same light.
Need more? You’ve got it.
Measurables
From a quantitative standpoint, using Tankathon’s historical NBA Combine data, the parallels between Wade and Burries are even more concrete:
While Wade’s length is the glaring exception, allowing him to do preternatural stuff like this, the numbers are otherwise eerily similar. That Burries actually bests Wade in maximum vertical is especially interesting considering the disparity in athleticism-related superlatives surrounding them (conversationally and, to an extent, in their scouting reports). So, is this more a case of temporal dilation, where Wade appears to explode at a quicker rate than Burries but doesn’t actually? You know, because of the relative quickening of the league and increased gravitational pressure of the three ball.
On that note, Burries’ prowess as a shooter shouldn’t be seen as a point of contention in any comparison with Wade. It is merely a byproduct of time revisiting itself. No Terminator is the same as its predecessor—but they are equally (relatively) destructive.
And this, my friends—contextually, stylistically, and physically—is what we have in Brayden Burries: Dwyane Wade, reincarnate.
Just wait and see.
