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LOS ANGELES — Gary Payton II called the moment “crazy,” which might be the understatement of the year since he was also perplexed by how anyone could willingly participate in a preseason game. But when you find yourself guarding Los Angeles Lakers rookie Bronny James, the son of LeBron James, things get surreal—and possibly slightly cringe-inducing.
“It’s incredible,” Payton II told NBC News while trying to remember if he still needed to send a birthday card to the guy he was guarding. “I’m sure it’s pretty dope to be able to do that.” Yes, Gary. Nothing says “I’ve made it” quite like defending a teenager who happens to be a walking billboard for your teammate’s aging legacy.
Bronny, a highly touted recruit who entered USC like a rock star but exited with stats resembling a benchwarmer, averaged a staggering 4.8 points, 2.8 rebounds, and 2.1 assists per game—numbers that scream “draft me, please!” But hey, the Lakers saw something in him and snapped him up at the 55th overall pick. Naturally, Twitter erupted with cries of nepotism faster than you can say, “LeBron’s kid.”
“They’re only drafting him because of his dad,” critics bemoaned, as if the league isn’t bursting at the seams with sons of former players vying for their moment in mediocrity. Poor Bronny, having to shoulder the expectations of a surname that can fill stadiums while he’s just trying to figure out which way is up on the court.
Young Payton II knows a thing or two about hearing whispers (and occasional shouting) that he only made the cut because of his dad. “You get used to it eventually,” he said, though that’s probably not comforting when you realize just how many people watch sports while holding their phones, ready to unleash decades of unprocessed rage at you.
And then there’s Larry Nance Jr., who had so much pressure growing up that he practically needed a mountain guide for his mental health. But once in the league, it’s like a magic spell was cast, lifting the weight—mostly because everyone was just too busy trying to figure out their own failures to notice his lineage.
“There are no guys in the league that are sitting here going, ‘Oh, you’re only in here because of your names,’” Nance remarked, proving he must’ve skipped over a Twitter feed or two. After all, it’s the year 2023. Nepotism is no longer a scandal; it’s a rite of passage.
Orlando Magic guard Jett Howard, son of two-time NBA champion Juwan Howard, chimed in like it was a family reunion while avoiding trying to figure out if he was just a product of genetics or actual skill. “It’s Bronny’s job to prove them wrong,” he declared, right before the reality struck: being a prodigy is hard work with a side of Instagram scrutiny.
Meanwhile, 76ers forward K.J. Martin saw the Lakers’ bold move as brave or foolish, depending on how his coffee was hitting him that morning. “People are expecting too much out of him,” he mused, “as if a 55th pick is supposed to come in and cure cancer or something.” Nice touch, K.J.; we should’ve realized he was here to save the world all along.
Essentially, being LeBron James’ kid is like jumping on a roller coaster designed by the same guy who forgot to tighten the bolts—sure, it’s thrilling, but you might end up in the G League faster than you can say “pressure’s on.” And that’s probably where Bronny will find himself as the season ramps up. He’ll either absorb wisdom from his dad like a sponge or end up using his downtime to work on his TikTok dance moves instead. It’s a fine line.
Payton II thinks the G League is just the boot camp Bronny needs: “It got me prepared and ready for the real deal,” he said, which is encouraging because the “real deal” also involves a circus of egos, thousands of fans chanting “you suck,” and enough media scrutiny to make your blood boil.
In the end, the world’s got its eyes on Bronny’s journey, whether they’re red-faced from shouting at their screens or pleasantly chuckling at the absurdity of a kid hoping to find his way amidst all the big names. One thing’s for certain: If he can navigate life as LeBron’s son in the NBA, dodging expectations will become his unofficial second job.
Here’s to hoping he figures it all out before he faces a midlife crisis at 21.
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