Andrew Wiggins, and the removal of expectations
It's when we remove the labels we've assigned to Andrew Wiggins that we finally realize his impact.
What do you get when you cross one of the first basketball stars of the YouTube mixtape generation with impossible expectations, and let him start the first five years of his NBA career wasting away in one of the NBA’s most dormant franchises?
Andrew Wiggins set the internet on fire in 2013. Hoopmixtape posted the cut of his senior season, where a flurry of cross dissolves and speed ramping made the Kansas commit seem like the second coming of LeBron James. The hardwood became a trampoline for an 18-year-old Wiggins, and becoming the face of the mixtape generation propelled him to surefire no. 1 pick status before he even stepped foot on a college campus.
Once in the NBA, Wiggins was stranded in a defeated Timberwolves organization. Offensively, there were plenty of shots for the taking — and he took them. He floated between 14 and 19 field goal attempts per game through his tenure in Minnesota, expanding his selection to the perimeter without ever cracking league-average efficiency. He would occasionally tantalize people into thinking he was making the jump to a Paul George-level elite wing, but these bursts were few and far between. Five years in Minnesota were enough for the league — and the Timberwolves — to write him off.
At the 2019 trade deadline, the Warriors swooped in and landed Wiggins (and a first round pick that would become Jonathan Kuminga) in exchange for D’Angelo Russell and filler. That same former no. 1 pick who was dubbed a chucker and a losing player joined up with a Golden State squad that had dominated for most of the decade.
Now, Andrew Wiggins is commended for his role as a defensive stopper and offensive connector on the Warriors. Why? Because, collectively, we stopped treating him like a former no. 1 pick who didn’t live up to expectations and started appreciating what he could mean to a winning franchise.
Golden State’s 2015 championship season consisted of a main lineup with Stephen Curry, Klay Thompson, Harrison Barnes, Draymond Green, and Andrew Bogut. We know what Steph, Klay, and Draymond each brought to the table: two incredible shooters running off a trillion screens, and a transcendent small-ball forward whose incredible vision and timing helped his teammates score without the ball.
Lost in the memories of their first title together was how much they got from Harrison Barnes — a perfect complementary wing who did all of the little things and executed the plan laid in front of him. In his last two seasons in Golden State, the Warriors were 11.2 points better with him on the court. He cut, screened, made open shots, defended his ass off, and never asked to be the man. He did his job, and did it well.
In 2021, Andrew Wiggins is finding himself in this exact same role — on a Warriors squad that is 18-3. You would think that the shot-chucking Wiggins of years’ past would reappear, or that Golden State might look to give him more on-ball creation with Klay out of the lineup. Nope. Jordan Poole is breaking out, so they’re treating him like the third Splash Brother.
In Golden State, expectations of stardom for the former no. 1 pick have been completely wiped away. Everything that Wiggins gives to their lineups is a luxury. He doesn’t need to be the primary shot creator and has thrived in his secondary role. Very rarely does he play hero ball — he can’t, with the amount of shooting and basketball IQ around him. Instead, Wiggins cuts, screens, and rebounds. He attacks closeouts. He hits open catch-and-shoot threes, shooting 37.5% from the perimeter (and 43.2% from the corners). 70% of Wiggins’ made field goals this season have been assisted, a career high. He takes what he’s given, and hasn’t complained once.
Watching him closely, these little hustle plays over the course of a game contribute to winning — something Wiggins hasn’t done much of up to this point.
Barnes and Iguodala were the perimeter defenders tasked with handling premier wings in the 2015 season. Wiggins is no Iguodala, but he’s made significant strides on defense. He covers ground, uses his body, and gives a shit about staying in the face of guys. Golden State is a whopping 11.5 points better with Wiggins on the floor. It’s just the third time in Wiggins’ career the team is better with him in the lineup than without.
Just a couple months ago, Andrew Wiggins was the hot name thrown around in mock trade discussions. A $30 million dollar price tag attached to his name turned him from human being to salary filler. Now, the Warriors would be fools to treat Wiggins as a trade asset. He fits like a glove with their shooters and playmakers, he defends, and he cares.
It’s when we remove the labels we’ve assigned to Andrew Wiggins that we finally realize his impact. Wiggins was a bust — the no. 1 pick in a weak 2014 draft, overshadowed by Joel Embiid and Nikola Jokic. A guy who didn’t live up to expectations. But why did we have these expectations of him in the first place? He was an uber-athletic wing who was made out to be the next LeBron James — but you and I both know that was never going to happen.
The truth is that Wiggins did not become the transcendent no. 1 pick that would save basketball in Minnesota forever. Seven years later, it no longer matters. It’s apparent in watching Wiggins this year that the weight of expectations has finally been lifted off his back. In Golden State, his past is behind him. He’s no longer a former top draft pick who never realized his potential. He’s a basketball player, filling a role on an awesome team by doing what he’s asked and making winning plays. He’s one of the guys.
In 2016, Warriors’ owner Joe Lacob proclaimed that his franchise was “light years ahead” of the competition. He’s been proven right on numerous occasions. Before the fans, media, and rest of the league, his franchise stopped looking at Andrew Wiggins for what he isn’t and brought him in for what he is. They might win another championship because of it.