Looking back at my years covering the NBA, I’ve always found the Rookie of the Year race uniquely compelling—not just because it highlights the league’s next superstars, but because it captures that intense, almost overwhelming pressure young players face from day one. I remember watching Zion Williamson’s explosive debut season and thinking how much expectation was heaped onto his shoulders. But as the reference knowledge suggests, for many of these standout talents, that pressure eventually becomes a thing of the past once they settle into their roles and let their game speak for itself.

The list of past winners reads like a who’s who of basketball greatness. Take LeBron James, for instance—he snagged the award back in 2004 with averages of 20.9 points, 5.5 rebounds, and 5.9 assists, numbers that hinted at the historic career to come. More recently, we’ve seen phenomenal talents like Luka Dončić, who edged out Trae Young in what I still believe was one of the most exciting two-horse races in recent memory. Luka put up 21.2 points, 7.8 rebounds, and 6 assists—just insane production for a 19-year-old. And let’s not forget Karl-Anthony Towns, who walked away with the honor in 2016 after posting a double-double almost every night. What strikes me about these players isn’t just their stats, but how they transformed early pressure into long-term dominance.

Of course, not every top pick runs away with the award. I’ve seen plenty of dark horses emerge—like Malcolm Brogdon, who shocked everyone by winning in 2017 as a second-round pick. That year, he became the first non-first-round selection since 1966 to claim the trophy, and honestly, it was a refreshing reminder that draft position doesn’t always dictate destiny. On the flip side, there have been heartbreaks, like when Blake Griffin—after sitting out his true rookie year with injury—came back to dominate so thoroughly that voters had no choice but to hand him the award a year late. Moments like these make the ROY narrative so rich and unpredictable.

Looking at the current landscape, I’m particularly excited about Chet Holmgren and Victor Wembanyama. Wembanyama, with his otherworldly wingspan and guard-like skills, is the kind of prospect you see once in a generation. I won’t be surprised if he puts up something like 20 points, 10 rebounds, and 3 blocks per game—though he’ll have to fend off Holmgren, who’s shown he can stretch the floor and protect the rim with equal ease. Personally, I’m leaning slightly toward Wembanyama because his ceiling feels almost limitless, but I’ve learned never to count out the underdogs.

In the end, the Rookie of the Year award does more than just crown the best first-year player—it sets the stage for legacies. The pressure these athletes face is immense, but as history shows, the greats learn to channel it. From Michael Jordan, who won in 1985, to Ja Morant in 2020, each winner carries a piece of that narrative forward. And as a fan and analyst, I can’t help but feel lucky to watch it unfold year after year.