The Plan No One Saw Coming
On draft night 2021, Austin Reaves watched as sixty names were called. His wasn't one of them. It wasn't an accident. It was the plan. Working with his agent, Reaves and his team had done their homework. They'd run the analytics, identified three tier-one destinations — the Lakers, the Bucks, and one other team — and zeroed in on Los Angeles. The Lakers had only four or five players under contract, which meant the 13th or 14th roster spot was genuinely up for grabs.
It sucked to not hear my name called. It's every kid's dream. But putting ourselves in a good position was much more important.— Austin Reaves
The strategy was clear: trade the emotional high of being drafted for the practical advantage of landing in the right situation. Reaves bet on his basketball IQ to get his foot in the door. It was the bet of his life — and it paid off in ways no one could have imagined.
“He Didn't Play Like a White Boy”
LeBron James had never seen Austin Reaves play when the Lakers signed him. Not one game. Not one highlight. But after the signing, LeBron went back and studied tape from Reaves' time at Wichita State and Oklahoma. What he saw surprised him.
The first thing I noticed — it's kind of funny, we always talk about this — he didn't play like a white boy. His wiggle was very different. I grew up in Northeast Ohio, so I know white guys playing like white guys, and white guys playing like the brothers.— LeBron James
Beyond the style, LeBron saw something the Lakers desperately needed: a player with the ability to crack seams, get into the paint, and play with a pro-level feel. “His game showed a pro,” LeBron says. “I really thought it could translate to the big leagues.” And so, from the moment training camp started, LeBron made it a point to invest in Reaves — to push that belief and confidence like he belonged.
The Vegas Moment That Changed Everything
Before Reaves had even signed a contract, the Lakers invited him to a mini-camp in Las Vegas. The stakes couldn't have been higher. He was so uncertain about his future that he was weighing whether to fly home for a friend's wedding that weekend. He stayed. “Can't say no to this,” he told his friend.
During a three-on-three game, Reaves drove to the basket with what looked like a clear layup. Then Anthony Davis materialized out of nowhere, ready to swat it. In a split second, Reaves improvised a behind-the-back pass to LeBron, who slammed it home. What happened next mattered more than the play itself — LeBron and AD pulled Reaves aside and told him: “You're good. Just be yourself.”
On the court, off the court, whatever it is — just be you.— Austin Reaves, recalling LeBron's message
Steve Nash relates to the power of that moment, sharing how Kevin Johnson told a young, unplayed Nash: “You're as good as any guard I've ever played against.” For players coming from places they're not supposed to come from, hearing that from a veteran who has what you don't — the explosiveness, the accolades — is transformative.
Built by Brotherhood
The greatest basketball influence in Austin Reaves' life isn't an NBA legend. It's his older brother Spencer. Spencer Reaves, two years Austin's senior, fell in love with basketball around seventh grade and became a full-time gym rat. He'd drive himself to the gym at 7 or 8 PM and drag his reluctant younger brother along. After hours of shooting, Spencer would destroy Austin in one-on-one.
You're from Newark, Arkansas, a town of a thousand people. You're gonna have to do more than everybody else. It's not gonna be easy.— Spencer Reaves, to his younger brother
That accountability followed Reaves all the way to college. Going into his junior or senior year at Oklahoma, Spencer pulled him aside with a direct challenge: “What do you want to do with this? Do you want to just play overseas? There's nothing wrong with that. But if you want to be an NBA player, you gotta do more.” Reaves' response was simple: “And so, I did more.”
Spencer now plays professionally in Germany. He still watches every game, and when Austin hits a rough shooting stretch, Spencer texts adjustments: “Move it over to the right a little bit” or “Shoot it a little higher.” Before one game last season, after going two-for-27 from three, Reaves told his assistant coach: “Don't worry tonight, we're good. My brother fixed me.” He went six-for-eight from deep.
The Delusional Confidence That Wasn't Delusional at All
When Austin Reaves was nine years old, out hunting with his mom's friend in rural Arkansas, she asked what he wanted to do when he grew up. “I want to play in the NBA,” he said. She paused. “You mean the MLB?” He didn't. He meant exactly what he said.
“I always had delusional confidence,” Reaves admits on the podcast. But it was never untethered from reality. That confidence was forged through constant competition — with his brother, who beat him as bad as he possibly could in everything from basketball to cards to video games, and with his parents, who never once let him win.
I learned to hate losing more than I loved to win.— Austin Reaves
The first time he beat his brother in one-on-one — around age twelve — Spencer had let him shoot wide open, thinking there was no way Austin could make enough to win. Austin got hot, won, and “took off running into the house.” Spencer was furious. The pivotal moment where delusional turned to real? Oklahoma head coach Lon Kruger, who had coached Buddy Hield, Trae Young, and Blake Griffin, followed Reaves out of practice one day and told him: “I think you could be a first-round pick.” That was when Reaves thought: “I got a chance.”
IQ Over Everything
LeBron James has played with some of the greatest athletes on the planet. But when asked what he looks for in a player, his answer isn't speed, vertical, or wingspan. “I like IQ,” he says plainly. “That's the one thing I gravitate towards faster than anything.”
LeBron acknowledges that everyone's talented in the NBA — from the 15th man to the two-way player to the 15-year veteran. What separates them is understanding. For Reaves, this has been his competitive edge since day one. In his freshman year at Wichita State, he averaged four points and eleven minutes per game. He bought into the role without complaint, knowing his time would come.
I never had a problem buying into a role to help the team be successful. What can I do to plug and play and help our team win? That's the beautiful thing about basketball — you don't have to score 30 to affect the game.— Austin Reaves
The Art of the Behind-the-Back
Steve Nash calls Reaves' behind-the-back dribble one of the best weapons in the NBA. LeBron puts it even more directly: “His wrap game is crazy.” What makes it so effective is its versatility. Nash breaks it down: you use it to attack, you also use it to reset. Sometimes it's a wrap to win, to get downhill. Sometimes it's a wrap to reset.
LeBron compares the move to Jamal Crawford's signature play: “He can come down full speed, wrap, and still be accelerating towards the basket. No deceleration.” But the deeper insight is philosophical. Asked by his brother in high school if he ever knew what he was going to do, Reaves' answer was always no.
Nothing's pre-determined. If I see somebody in front of me, I'll figure something out after that.— Austin Reaves
This improvisational approach, he argues, is exactly what makes him hard to guard — opposing teams can't scout what a player hasn't decided yet. Nash agrees passionately: “What excited me about playing basketball was being creative, being expressive, trying to beat your guy, find a solution when you get there.” Phil Handy, the Lakers' skills coach, once told Reaves he's one of the few people in the NBA that can actually change directions on one foot — a trait he worked on extensively with Kyrie Irving.
Creating Contact Without the Arm
LeBron highlights an underrated aspect of Reaves' game: his ability to create contact in the paint without resorting to the extended arm that draws offensive fouls. “Beat them to the point of contact, take their legs out, or make them hit you,” LeBron describes. “That sets up his footwork — pivots, pump fakes — because defenders are off balance.”
Reaves credits his size — or lack of it — for developing this skill: “It helped me always being smaller than everybody. I had to figure out how to use my body. When I finally got some strength, it just made it better.” The discussion also touches on the broader art of drawing fouls as strategy rather than foul-baiting. As Reaves explains: if he goes to a low pickup and the defender has their hands down, they're either scared to foul and back off, or they foul. Either way, he gets to where he wants to go.
Clutch DNA
Accept death, and then just go for the win. You're gonna die, you're gonna miss. Accept that. Go for it.— Steve Nash
Steve Nash's advice to young players about clutch moments might be the most powerful quote from the entire episode. Reaves embodies this mentality. He recalls a game-winning moment in Dallas during his rookie year, when an opposing player told him from the bench: “You don't want it.” Reaves' internal response? “I'm not gonna touch the ball, but if I do, it's going in.”
What defines Reaves in pressure moments isn't fearlessness — it's calm. While others spazz out, he slows down. “Even your staff might be going crazy,” he says with a laugh. “But I feel like in any situation, if you throw the ball to me, I'll make something work.”
LeBron reflects on how that quality is partially innate: “Some people are born with that attitude.” But he also acknowledges it can grow — as long as the desire is authentic. “You can't just hit the switch if you've never truly wanted to be there.” Nash's own journey confirms this. It took him years of dying a thousand deaths before he learned to embrace the moment. “You're never more alive,” he says, “than in those clutch moments.”