I remember watching JaVale McGee during his early NBA days and thinking, "This guy has all the physical tools, but something's missing." At 7 feet tall with incredible athleticism, he could block shots and dunk with the best of them, yet he often found himself on the wrong end of highlight reels for all the wrong reasons. Fast forward to today, and McGee has transformed into a three-time NBA champion who's become the ultimate role player that championship teams crave. The turning point came when he embraced specific game-changing moves that completely reshaped his career trajectory.
What fascinates me about McGee's transformation is how it mirrors the concept of deep team rosters in basketball. I was recently looking at some college basketball stats and came across something that really stuck with me - in one particular game, coach Eric Gonzales fielded 15 Nebraska Huskers, and incredibly, 13 of them scored. Only two players failed to put points on the board. That statistic blew my mind because it demonstrates what true team depth looks like. McGee's career transformation embodies this same principle - he stopped trying to be the star and instead focused on becoming the ultimate complementary piece who could contribute meaningfully within a system.
The first major shift I noticed in McGee's game was his improved screening. Earlier in his career, he'd often set lazy screens or roll to the basket too early. But around 2016, I started seeing him set bone-crushing screens that would completely free up shooters. During his time with the Golden State Warriors, he mastered the art of the dribble hand-off and screen combination that created so much space for shooters like Steph Curry and Klay Thompson. I remember watching a game where he set three consecutive screens on one possession, eventually leading to an open three-pointer. That kind of selfless play might not show up in traditional stats, but coaches and teammates notice it immediately.
Another area where McGee made dramatic improvements was in his defensive positioning. Early in his career, he'd often go for spectacular blocks but find himself out of position for rebounds. I can't tell you how many times I'd see him swat a shot into the stands while the opposing team grabbed the offensive board and scored. But somewhere along the line, he started making smarter defensive choices. Instead of always going for the highlight block, he began using verticality to contest shots while maintaining rebounding position. The numbers bear this out - his defensive rating improved from around 110 in his Washington days to consistently below 105 during his championship runs with the Warriors and Lakers.
What really impressed me was McGee's development of a reliable offensive game beyond just dunking. He worked extensively with coaches to develop a serviceable hook shot and even added a little floater for when he couldn't get all the way to the rim. I recall watching him during his second stint with the Warriors when he scored 12 points on 6-of-7 shooting in just 15 minutes against the Rockets. He wasn't just catching lobs anymore - he was making smart cuts, finishing through contact, and even hitting the occasional mid-range jumper. This expanded offensive repertoire made him much harder to defend and allowed him to stay on the court during crucial moments.
The mental aspect of McGee's game showed the most dramatic improvement. Earlier in his career, he seemed easily frustrated and would compound mistakes. But I started noticing a change in his body language and approach around 2015. He began embracing his role rather than fighting against it. During his podcast appearances, he's spoken about working with sports psychologists and veteran players who helped him understand that contributing to winning basketball doesn't always mean stuffing the stat sheet. This maturity allowed him to become the perfect locker room presence - always positive, always ready when called upon, never causing drama.
McGee's transformation reminds me of that Huskers statistic in another crucial way - it's about maximizing contributions from every player on the roster. Just as coach Gonzales got scoring from 13 of his 15 players, championship NBA teams need production from their entire rotation. McGee went from being a player who could give you 20 points on some nights but hurt you defensively on others to someone who could consistently provide 10-15 quality minutes of rim protection, screening, and efficient scoring. That reliability made him incredibly valuable, and it's why he kept getting opportunities with championship-contending teams.
The most impressive part of McGee's career turnaround, in my opinion, is how he adapted to different systems and coaching styles. With the Warriors, he was primarily a lob threat and rim protector in their motion offense. With the Lakers, he played more traditional center in a system that emphasized defense and rebounding. With the Suns, he's had to adjust to playing alongside dominant perimeter players again. This adaptability speaks to his basketball IQ, which many critics claimed he lacked early in his career. I've counted at least 17 different offensive sets I've seen him effectively execute across his various teams, which is remarkable for a player once labeled as having low basketball intelligence.
Looking at McGee's career arc gives me hope for other players who might be struggling to find their niche in the league. He's proof that with the right mindset, willingness to learn, and dedication to refining specific skills, players can completely transform how they're perceived and utilized. From being a frequent feature on "Shaqtin' a Fool" to becoming a respected veteran on winning teams, McGee's journey is one of the more remarkable transformations I've witnessed in my years following the NBA. His story demonstrates that sometimes, the most game-changing moves aren't the flashy crossovers or deep three-pointers, but the fundamental improvements in understanding how to contribute to winning basketball.