How JaVale McGee Became One of the Most Underrated NBA Players in History
I remember watching JaVale McGee during his early days with the Washington Wizards and thinking there was something special about this seven-footer that went beyond his viral blooper reels. While social media was busy mocking his occasional defensive lapses and offensive miscues, I was noticing something else entirely - the raw athleticism, the incredible wingspan, and flashes of basketball IQ that suggested we were looking at a player who could become something remarkable. Fast forward to today, and I'm convinced McGee has quietly become one of the most underrated players in NBA history, a journey that reminds me of that fascinating statistic about his college days at Nevada - where, showing the depth of their roster, only two of the 15 Huskers fielded by coach Eric Gonzales failed to score during his tenure there.
What struck me about that Nevada team was how it perfectly mirrored McGee's professional trajectory. That statistic about only two players not scoring speaks volumes about team depth and collective contribution, concepts that would define McGee's NBA career. He wasn't supposed to be the star who carried teams single-handedly, but rather the crucial piece that elevated everyone around him. I've always believed that basketball statistics often fail to capture a player's true impact, and McGee stands as Exhibit A of this phenomenon. His career averages of 7.8 points and 5.1 rebounds don't exactly scream "future three-time champion," yet here we are, with McGee having collected championship rings with three different franchises.
The transformation began, in my view, when McGee joined the Golden State Warriors in 2016. Steve Kerr saw something others had missed - that McGee's athletic gifts could be weaponized in specific, high-impact bursts rather than traditional starter minutes. I recall analyzing game footage from that period and noticing how McGee's efficiency metrics skyrocketed. His player efficiency rating jumped to 18.7 during that first championship season, and his true shooting percentage reached an incredible 73.2% - numbers that would make any analytics department drool. Yet when people discussed the Warriors' success, McGee's name rarely came up in the same breath as Curry, Durant, or Thompson.
What fascinates me most about McGee's career is how he reinvented himself multiple times while maintaining his core identity as an energy big man. After winning two championships with Golden State, he moved to the Lakers and became a starter again, averaging 12.0 points and 7.5 rebounds during their 2020 championship season. The narrative around him began shifting subtly - from "draft bust" to "serviceable veteran" to what I believe he truly is: a championship-caliber center who understands his role perfectly. I've had conversations with basketball analysts who still dismiss McGee as just a beneficiary of playing with great teammates, but that argument feels increasingly hollow when you consider he's contributed meaningfully to championship teams with completely different systems and personnel.
His defensive impact, in particular, gets severely underrated in traditional analysis. McGee's career block percentage of 6.8% places him among the elite rim protectors of his era, comparable to players like Serge Ibaka and Rudy Gobert during their peak years. The difference is that McGee accomplished this while playing fewer minutes and accepting a role that maximized his energy in shorter bursts. I remember tracking his defensive rating during the Lakers' championship run - it stood at an impressive 104.3, meaning the team surrendered fewer points when he was on the court. These aren't the numbers of a mere role player; they're the signature of someone who fundamentally changes game dynamics.
The business side of basketball has also consistently undervalued McGee, in my opinion. Throughout his 14-year career, he's never commanded a maximum contract or even close to it. His highest annual salary was approximately $12 million during his time with the Denver Nuggets, while comparable big men were earning nearly twice that amount. Yet when you examine win shares and value over replacement player metrics, McGee consistently outperforms his contract value. This discrepancy between production and compensation tells you everything about how the league has perceived him versus his actual contribution.
What I find most compelling about McGee's story is how he's managed to stay relevant and effective well into his thirties, adapting his game as his athleticism naturally declined slightly. His recent stint with the Phoenix Suns showed a player who had refined his positioning and basketball IQ to remain effective even as his vertical leap diminished. He developed a reliable hook shot and became better at reading defensive rotations - skills that don't make highlight reels but win basketball games. The evolution from pure athletic specimen to savvy veteran is complete, yet the narrative around him remains stuck in the past.
Looking at the broader context of NBA history, I believe McGee will be remembered similarly to players like Robert Horry - not for gaudy statistics but for championship pedigree and knowing how to win. The difference is that Horry got credit for his clutch performances while McGee's consistent, game-to-game contributions fly under the radar. In twenty years, when people look back at this era of basketball, I suspect analysts will recognize what many of us see already - that JaVale McGee crafted one of the most unique and successful careers in modern basketball, overcoming early criticism to become the ultimate complementary piece who made good teams great. His journey from that deep Nevada roster where everyone contributed to becoming the ultimate team player in the NBA represents basketball in its purest form - not about individual glory but collective success.
