On the heels of the existential crisis that followed Team USA’s semifinal loss in the 2023 FIBA World Cup, four-time All-Star Devin Booker offered to do the dirty work that 2024’s top-heavy roster would sorely need in the Olympics.
Booker, who recently left Team USA’s gold medal celebration party on a bicycle—his preferred method of traversing the narrow streets of Paris—has always had a knack for finding productive lessons in cramped confines. He did it a lifetime ago for Kentucky, shooting movement 3s off the bench that garnered comparisons to Klay Thompson. This summer, he reprised that role for Team USA as an overqualified 3-and-D player—and set himself up as a cornerstone of the program in the process.
After LeBron James, Steph Curry, and his Phoenix Suns teammate Kevin Durant—three legends who will presumably be working on their golf games full-time in 2028—Booker had Team USA’s highest cumulative plus-minus. He claimed a spot in the starting five, shot a blistering, team-high 57 percent from beyond the arc, and had the highest assist-to-turnover ratio in the tournament, all while clamping down on defense and applying full-court pressure on opposing guards. “He was our unsung MVP,” Steve Kerr told reporters after the gold medal victory against France.
Stateside, things have been far less rosy for Booker, whose Suns traded everything for Durant and Bradley Beal and have just one playoff series win to show for it. In a couple of months, Booker will return to a regrouping squad with a new (read: real) point guard and a new coach with a proven offensive philosophy. The way Booker seamlessly maintained his ability to be a threat in Kerr’s system could prove both instructive and inspiring for Phoenix.
There is often a too-big-to-fail rigidity to the developmental track of superstars. Once a star finds a way to dominate, the machinery around them—the system, the coaches, the routine—resists change, out of fear that tinkering will harm productivity. Booker, one of the game’s great understudies, has never been such a superstar. He entered the league mimicking Rip Hamilton’s off-screen shooting exploits while building out a one-on-one game inspired by his idol Kobe Bryant. But when the Suns traded for Chris Paul—one of the greatest pick-and-roll practitioners the game has ever seen—before the 2020-21 season, it took Booker just one year to master the Point God’s reads and cagey tricks. When Paul was traded for Beal last summer, Booker took over point guard duties full-time, straying further from his origins as a movement shooter. But with Team USA, Booker hearkened back to his past as a floor spacer, playing alongside and sometimes standing in for the player who should be his next muse: Steph Curry.
For most players, imitating Curry would be (and has been) a fool’s errand, but Booker is one of the few with the will, skill, and stamina to put his own twist on the chef’s recipes. What Booker lacks in court-warping gravity and logo range, he can make up for with his creative ability. Just a season ago, Booker generated a blistering 1.25 points per possession coming off screens. And in the three seasons before Paul’s arrival in Phoenix, Booker was in the top 10 in distance traveled on offense, finishing third in 2019-20. If Team USA was any indication, Booker can carry Curry’s tactical legacy of embracing the dirty work—running, screening, and cutting—in ways that accentuate his gravity and enhance the effectiveness of his teammates.
That seemed to be the path Booker was on, at least until Paul arrived and the Suns offense traded movement-based egalitarianism for a pick-and-roll-heavy system built around the dual prongs of Paul’s and Booker’s creation. When Durant and later Beal came to Phoenix, new coach Frank Vogel—in his first and only year at the helm—doubled down on isolation, partially because he was hamstrung by the front office’s insistence that a team featuring Booker, Durant, and Beal didn’t need a point guard. That notion was simultaneously a compliment to their proficiency and an effort to spin a roster weakness.
Heliocentrism, which prizes individual creation above all, is the easiest way to organize stars, but it’s not always optimal at maximizing their gifts. Booker finished last season averaging a career-low 1.3 possessions per game off screens. (Despite the lower caliber of talent surrounding him, 2019-20 was the last time over 25 percent of Booker’s field goals came at the rim, and the last time less than 50 percent of his shots came from the midrange.) Even Beal, who once finished behind only Curry in off-screen possessions, largely cut those from his game last season. Instead, Phoenix finished fifth in the NBA in pull-ups and took the most shots from the long midrange area. The Suns offense, plodding and isolation heavy, finished just 10th in efficiency despite its significant cumulative talent.
If there’s a silver lining for Booker, it’s that increasing his on-ball reps hasn’t impeded his efficiency. For new coach Mike Budenholzer—a disciple of pace, space, and rim pressure who taped boxes outside the arc in his first season in Milwaukee to drill down on the importance of spacing—simply convincing his stars to step behind the arc on shots and into the restricted area on drives could create massive efficiency gains. The arrival of Tyus Jones and Monte Morris, two low-turnover floor generals signed this offseason, should allow Budenholzer to unlock the dormant skills of Booker, Durant, and Beal, who have all thrived off the ball at different points in their careers. Giving Booker some on-ball relief should also allow him to expend more energy on perimeter defense, which the Suns need just as much as Team USA’s aging starting lineup did.
Overall, the last few years have been expansive for Booker. He mastered the midrange shots that become so valuable in the postseason and became one of the league’s best playmakers. But he also strayed from the style that once buttered his bread. Unless the Suns open themselves up to dealing one of Durant (unlikely) or (gulp) Booker himself, the top-heavy, cap-strapped team is confined to its structure. Beal’s contract is an albatross, and he has a no-trade clause. Working on the margins and reinventing themselves from within is their last, best avenue toward salvaging this bold, not-so-grand experiment. Booker’s Olympic experience carries the kernel of a proof of concept for a Suns team that’s built to integrate his basketball roots and his new skills. Sometimes, the international stage can redefine a player’s game by putting them in a new context, but the Booker experience was a reminder that sometimes, the past can be made new again.