Jonny Auping:

Legacies.

That’s what you start to think about when given the opportunity to reboot a pillar of sports journalism like the JR Smith/Dion Waiters Power Rankings. Who among us doesn’t stop to think about legacies? The legacy of JR Smith. The Legacy of Dion Waiters. The legacy of Alex Siquig, the only other person who I would trust this column in the hands of. The legacy of myself, and how it might have shifted since that winter night in 2015 when I emailed Alex with an idea.

Since we launched these rankings both men have shifted in the NBA zeitgeist, no longer just cult heroes among the corner of the Internet that appreciates basketball mostly for its few glimpses of unintentional comedy. Smith became the starting shooting guard on an NBA championship team. Waiters has grabbed the steering wheel of a Miami Heat franchise that had its coordinates set on a top three draft pick only to captain the ship with nothing more than the mentality that reckless velocity is a better navigational tool than a sense of direction.

Are we (me, Alex, you the reader) responsible for the undeniable success of Dion Waiters and JR Smith since the creation of these rankings? (Alex’s note: yes) Not entirely. Much of the credit should go to the two men themselves. Waiters and Smith chase their moments because sometimes they remind us all that they’re good enough to catch them. And when they’re not, well, that always seems to be worth documenting as well.

If you’re not familiar with the JR Smith/Dion Waiters Power Rankings from their previous home, basic Power Ranking rules apply: Eligible participants (Dion Waiters and JR Smith) can rank anywhere from the coveted number one spot all the way to the bottom spot at number two, and order is decided by the arbitrary decision making of the committee (Alex and myself).

1.)  Dion Waiters

Alex Siquig:

The NBA’s totem-pole offers myriad player templates. At the top you’ve got your royalty, LeBron, Durant, Curry, Harden, CP3, Kawhi Leonard, those sorts. At the bottom are the terminally bored fifteenth men and the tragically warm bodies known as 10-Day Contracts. In between you’ll find downtrodden company men, anachronistic former All-Stars, high-energy cannon fodder, starry-eyed humble freaks, laconic veterans exceedingly decent at exactly one thing. What all these people have in common are that they are athletes who play the sport of basketball. JR Smith and Dion Waiters are also nominally athletes who play the sport of basketball, and yet no one would ever accuse them of simply clocking in and going to work. They’re something else. The trappings of basketball players, yes, no doubt, but something more primal, more elemental. They are without self-doubt. They believe in themselves pathologically at a time when most humans can’t even remember if they turned the stove off or answer “What would you say your biggest weakness is?” at a job interview. They inhabit a universe where the musty official tomes full of rules, guidelines, and conduct simply don’t apply. They are NBA Salafists. The so-called moderate rebels of the hardwood.

It’s rare to so seamlessly wed danger with grogginess, but Dion and JR have spent their entire careers doing it. They’re basically the same person, except JR is cool and Dion is very much uncool. Tempted though we were to put JR Smith first, due to the annual calamities and general malaise that has clung to the Cavaliers since his absence, there’s just no way to honestly make the case that Dion Waiters hasn’t earned the top spot.  

“I’d rather go 0-for-30 than 0-for-9 because if you go 0-for-9 that means you stopped shooting.”

Who said it? Dion Waiters or Napoleon?

The answer is they both said it, but Dion said it recently, during Miami's improbably inspiring and stupid win streak. This is the most Dion Waiters thing ever. Exiled to the swamp hell that is Florida, Dion laid low and timed his vengeance. The Heat, who had been the owners of the second worst record in the National Basketball Association, started winning games, playing like the scrappy underdogs trying to drown the rich kids from across the lake. It had all the hallmarks of a rags-to-riches story. Rich supporting characters getting mini-arcs of their own, like the troubled ogre prince, Hassan Whiteside and his historic 30-points and 20-rebounds in less than thirty minutes or the burgeoning cult status of martial arts freak James Johnson smothering former Heat lifer, Dwyane Wade. Discovering Goran Dragic was still alive. All of these vignettes were fun while it lasted.

But above all, this was Dion Waiters going through the spasms of puberty. Freed from simply being strictly a team’s resident curmudgeon, he was carrying a squad like a big boy in big boy pants, but it’s not like he had matured or turned into some wizened elder statesman. He was doing it the Dion Waiters way, with a contrarian spirit and a great respect to the God of Futile Gestures. In the future, Dion will probably throw an elbow and accidentally blind a referee. He will go in for an uncontested layup and then realize he’s scored on his own basket. He will be the first NBA player to ever vape during tip-off. But he’ll always have knocked down a last second three-pointer over Klay “Hail Satan” Thompson for a last-second victory over the Golden State Warriors. Because that’s just the sort of absurd shit he does. When he makes a shot it feels like destiny. And when he misses, well, that’s just fate.

2.)  JR Smith

Jonny Auping

In some sense, the arc of JR Smith’s career is complete.

He joined the NBA out of high school and wasted no time feuding with coaches, trying 360 layups, and doing spot-on impressions of the first half of a Kobe Bryant shot attempt.

He jacked up shots in New Orleans and Denver, partied in New York, and successfully slid into Rihanna’s DMs. But then LeBron James gave the Cleveland front office the green light to trade for Smith, insisting he could get through to the inner adult in him.

Smith shot exactly as many shots as LeBron allocated to him. He became a toned down version of everything that could have potentially made him great, and it was a success by just about any measure. JR Smith stood in the White House while Barack Obama made a joke about Smith keeping his shirt on. Few sentences have ever been written that better exemplify a man evolving without changing who he is.

But June was a long time ago. Smith’s been sidelined with a broken thumb for months, removed from the NBA spotlight.

Now, LeBron is the underdog. The Warriors are the overwhelming favorite to win the championship. The Cavs are void of reliable production beyond James, Kyrie Irving, and the now-injured Kevin Love.

So when we say, “The Cavaliers need something,” you better believe JR Smith hears “The Cavaliers need JR Smith,” and he might not be wrong.

So what happens after you grow up, prove everyone wrong, and accomplish everything you ever dreamed? What happens when one of the greatest players to ever pick up a basketball privately hints to you that, to have a chance, he might need a little help from The Old JR? 

Obviously, Dion grabs the number one spot as he dominates for a fun and irrelevant team. But few things are more exciting than the little voice in JR Smith’s head telling him that he can affect the balance of power in the NBA.