Dennis Smith, Jr. always wanted to play.
Growing up in Fayetteville, North Carolina, he would spend most of his days out among the oak trees, playing football, baseball or basketball. Doing things no one else his age was able to do, always seeking the thrill of competition. On some days, he'd play them all, finishing a game on the softball field where Smith and friends would practice for hours, exchanging cleats for sneakers, and walking straight from the red clay to the hardwood to play basketball for hours more, driven to be the best.
Years later, he sits at the edge of the practice court, legs stretched out to accommodate the walking boot on his foot, and the crutches that he'll need over the next few days stretched right along next to him. It's late November, just a month into the start of the 2022-23 and Smith has been garnering buzz as an unexpected contributor to the Charlotte Hornets, filling in as a capable starter for injured All-Star LaMelo Ball. There's talk about postseason awards and defensive team selections, and holding on to Charlotte's slim playoff aspirations until Ball's return..
After injuring his ankle, he'll go on to miss 22 of the next 24 games, and by the time he returns, the buzz has worn off as the Hornets lose 55 games on their way to another lottery selection.
It's a familiar sight, as Smith is no stranger to injury. He tore an ACL in high school, but was still ranked among the nation's top recruits. After one impressive season at North Carolina State, he was selected ninth overall in the 2017 NBA Draft, expected to help bridge the gap between Dallas' aging superstar, Dirk Nowitzki, and their next era of playoff contention. Smith has teetered since then, caught in a cycle of trying to find a role on any team he plays for, battling injury, and having to rebuild a reputation as a player who never lived up to his potential. The Hornets are his fifth team in six seasons.
But back in November, before the losses piled up and another year was spent trying to be seen as who he actually is and not who he was projected to be, Smith was optimistic. He's not entirely sure why it's happened this way but that's all in the past. He looks down, fidgeting with the crutches at his side and says, "Everything I went through I needed to. To be who I am now. You know, I love who I am as a man and as a person and a player." He looks up and stares past the practice court, past the years, all the way back to the oaks swaying in the humid Carolina heat. "I'm thankful for it all."
Fayetteville is a city of contradictions. Some lists highlight it as one of the most desirable places to live in the United States for its quaint charm and racial diversity. Alternate versions decry its stagnant economic opportunities and as a flawed city to raise a family.
Perhaps it's best known for Fort Liberty, the Army base that serves as the city's primary economic generator. Rechristened in June 2023, the base had been known as Fort Bragg since its establishment in 1918. It was named after Braxton Bragg, a Confederate Army general. The name change remains a point of some controversy.
Some residents refer to the city as the "Two-Six," a nod to the penal code for the local prison. Being in the "Two-Six," whether that means jail or the city itself, is looking for a way to get out.
The base, for all its sordid history, also defines the people of Fayetteville. "It's a diverse community, for sure," says Grant Bennett, founder of The Two-Six Project, a non-profit organization dedicated to providing resources and opportunities to marginalized youth. "Different ethnicities, religious beliefs, things of that nature. But it's also a military town, man. So you get a lot of people who are just disciplined, really hard-working people." Bennett is one of Smith's closest friends, growing up together and often teammates. Grant's father, Donald, coached the two boys in baseball; Dennis Smith Sr. coached his son and Grant in basketball.
Children growing up in Fayetteville know almost innately there's a lack of something, whether it's opportunity or the resources typically denied to Black communities throughout the United States. "You walk around with a chip on your shoulder, knowing you're not from a major city. You have to find ways of being innovative and creative, just to find ways of escaping the environment where you grow up." It's why he embraced the code for the local prison as the name for his organization, a way of taking something historically negative and rewriting "the narrative of what success can look like." A city of contradictions, indeed.
Grant and "Junior," as the younger Smith is known to friends and family, met on the bus on the way to elementary school. They grew close, both figuratively and literally. The two lived on the same street and share the same birthday, born just hours apart. Smith was first, as usual, something he never fails to remind Bennett about. But the two are like brothers. "That's my twin, man."
"Junior" was always the first to try something new, says Bennett. Always challenging himself in ways others wouldn't, or couldn't. Smith was faster, stronger. "The best athlete I grew up with," he says. But he was also a born leader, inspiring those around him.with his tenacity and determination to win. Smith had an unusual confidence at an early age, an understanding that there was something bigger outside Fayetteville. "He told me to focus on just baseball at around 12 or 13," Bennett explains. "He sat me down and said, 'You've got to lock in on that one thing that's gonna take you out.'" Bennett took Smith's counseling to heart, and his baseball prowess led to a scholarship to Morehouse College which, in turn, led to his current work as a strategist with Google. "It was a real candid conversation that changed the trajectory of my life."
To everyone in the "Two-Six," there was no doubt that Smith was going to find success.
The bloom was off the rose quickly in Dallas. Former Mavericks head coach Rick Carlisle reportedly "soured" on Smith's output midway through his rookie season. Just 20 years old at the time and still adjusting to life in the NBA, the tension between coach and player eventually crossed a point of no return. Smith is still unwilling to talk about what happened in Dallas, even if those who know him best shake their heads in disbelief, acknowledging the situation was a difficult one.
After Smith's first year, the Mavericks selected Luka Doncic in 2018. The two formed a fast friendship off the court, living in the same building, playing video games and more. "We had a lot of good times," says Doncic, "but not everything is meant for the media," he adds with a wry smile.
Many believed this was the formation of Dallas' backcourt of the next generation. Others, and specifically Carlisle, believed the partnership couldn't work.
"We fit together for sure," says Doncic. "I guess the media said differently, which wasn't true. We were always great. They just turned it around for some reason but we were always great. It was only my first year in the NBA, you know, so we had to figure it out. It was early in his career, too. So there was no way we would've known. I didn't think we tried [hard] enough. But I think it would have worked."
While fans gazed into a bright future, Carlisle saw an opportunity, sending Smith to the Knicks in exchange for Kristaps Porzingis and ending a once-promising partnership before it ever really got a chance.
Just days before I spoke to Doncic, Smith had helped lead the Hornets to two consecutive wins over the Mavericks, one of the few bright spots from Charlotte's season. But Doncic bore no ill will, saying he's not surprised that Smith has found his rhythm four years and four teams later. "He's a great player, a great guy. I knew he was gonna find his way at some point. And he deserves this. I'm really happy for him."
Within four years, Smith had eroded from being a building block to a formless nonentity, a mere afterthought in NBA circles. After being jettisoned by the Mavericks, he played in 58 games for the Knicks – over the course of three different seasons. He had been injured during some of that time but he was also stuck on a franchise looking for direction. David Fizdale. Mike Miller. Tom Thibodeau. All head coaches during Smith's tumultuous tenure in New York. He was traded again (this time to the Detroit Pistons in 2021) and played in 20 games.
His rookie contract had expired, without the usual fanfare reserved for a high draft choice. There was no extension to be signed, nor the prospect of a bidding war in restricted free agency. He was unemployed, the dreamy optimism from his days in Dallas replaced by nightmarish numbers rooted in a stark reality.
Four seasons. Three teams. Five head coaches. 179 total games.
He knew he could still be a contributor. It's a difficult process, redefining your career before it really even begins, shedding the weight of expectation while accepting the burden of a lesser role. "You gotta make adjustments. Coming in as a lottery pick, you think, 'Alright, I'm gonna be here. I want to be here forever.' I think most guys feel like they want to be a cornerstone, things of that nature. But you just gotta just be able to deal with what's going on, go with the flow and still find a way to be myself within all that. That's tough."
To help redefine that new role, Smith sought out help from another guard who had gone through a similar adjustment and was in a position to help: Portland Trail Blazers head coach Chauncey Billups.
Billups, the third overall pick of the 1997 Draft, was traded from Boston to Toronto midway through his rookie season. Another trade led to two uninspiring seasons in Denver, followed by two more seasons in Minnesota. He would sign as a free agent with the Pistons in 2002 and, two seasons later, would guide Detroit to an improbable title over the Los Angeles Lakers.
"A lot of similarities between our careers. Struggling mightily as a high draft pick," Billups tells me. Smith met "Mr. Big Shot" (as Billups was eventually nicknamed) during his high school days and the two stayed connected as the former sloughed his way through a mediocre start in the NBA. Billups offered advice through Smith's stints in New York and Detroit. And when Billups took the job in Portland, Smith would sign a one-year deal with the Blazers for the veteran minimum to begin the process of bringing his career back to life.
"He's been a star since he's been playing. Then you come into the league and it doesn't quite work out that way," explains Billups. "So you have to learn how to not be that star, you know? You got to humble yourself. You gotta understand what it's like to be one of the guys instead of the guy. And you embrace the grind away from that. I had to get to that place so that I could want to change my game. I came into the league as a real scorer, but for me to really make it, I had to be an old-fashioned point guard that can score. Big difference between a scoring point guard and a point guard that can score. I became that guy. And it took me a while to learn that."
For Smith, it meant an evolution as a defensive menace, using his athleticism, speed and strength to cause chaos for opposing guards. And he embraced a role that had always been natural to him, as a leader in the locker room, "a glue guy that people wanted to follow," says Billups.
Then, after just notching 11 assists and six steals in a win against the Lakers, Smith was hurt – this time his wrist – in practice. He was cut days later.
Smith found himself in the same place in 2022 as he was a year earlier, unemployed and unwanted. In many ways, being an afterthought is worse than being clearly bad; the latter might have some untapped potential that teams can sell themselves on while the former renders you virtually nonexistent.
That harsh reality was understandably difficult to accept. As Billups had laid out, transitioning from a superstar draft pick to role player was nearly impossible for most. Playing overseas wasn't an option for Smith so, at the time, he privately expressed that it may be time to consider a new career. In the NFL.
"I'm young, man, and I'm a competitor," says Smith. "I always wanted to play in the NFL too, so I was gonna try it." And what about his love of basketball? "Shit, man, I love football, too."
Smith wasn't denouncing the option of playing in Europe or China. But it was his confidence in who he was – or who he knew he could be – that rendered the overseas option unthinkable. At his core, Smith is unapologetically authentic. As Bennett says, "That's just who Junior is." Smith looked at rosters around the league and knew he could compete, despite the injuries, or the inconsistent roles he had been asked to fill. The chip on his shoulder that had sprung him out of Fayetteville fueled his recommitment to the NBA.
Last offseason, he reached out to trainer Ronnie Taylor, a fellow "North Carolina guy." Taylor has worked with John Wall, PJ Tucker, Devonte Graham and others. He saw in Smith somebody who was willing to do the work to keep his basketball career alive. "His hunger, his tenacity," says Taylor, "was one of the brighter spots of the summer." Taylor took into consideration Smith's history and the negative reputation that clung to him through no fault of his own, and crafted a workout regimen that emphasized the things Smith did well.
Of Smith's recurring injuries, Taylor acknowledges them as a reason why he's been discounted by the league but dismisses them as a realistic cause for concern. "[Smith's injuries] aren't really preventable. You step on somebody's foot, roll your ankle, that's not something you can really avoid, you know? That's just basketball." Interestingly, he does believe that Smith's athleticism – what made him such a basketball wunderkind in the first place – might be preventing him from being a better shooter. "All that dunking at an early age built up a lot of scar tissue, and that limits his range of motion in his wrist," Taylor explains. But Smith's focus in his offseason workouts was to put pressure on the rim. Be a dogged defender. To do the things, as Taylor summarizes, that "don't show up on a stat sheet," a far cry from what is typically expected of a top draft pick.
It worked. An offseason workout for NBA scouts led to invitations to join training camps for multiple teams, among them the Hornets and the Miami Heat. Nothing was guaranteed but at least there were opportunities. Years after he got out of Fayetteville, he came back home for a better opportunity at more playing time. The Hornets struggled throughout the regular season as Smith's redefined impact flew under the radar. Conversely, Miami advanced to the NBA Finals after a magical run.
Smith doesn't regret his choice. Playing a short distance away from the 'Two-Six' was an opportunity to inspire, to remain connected with the circle of family and friends that were with him throughout the disparate highs and lows of his basketball journey. He wonders what might have been in Miami, one of the most stable organizations in the NBA. With a front office mostly in place for decades and a head coach considered among one of the best in basketball.
"That's something you dream about, a situation like that, to just have some kind of stability. It's like a relationship, y'know? Just somebody that you got these roots with, just somebody that will take care of you. You don't want to just keep starting over," says Smith.
There's no way of knowing what might have been, of course. His stint in Charlotte was, in some ways, a successful one. Smith's defensive metrics were among the best in the league, building a nascent reputation as one of the league's best individual defenders. By all accounts, he was well-liked and was a leader in the locker room, someone who inspired with his work ethic, according to Hornets head coach Steve Clifford. But had he spent last season with Miami, could he have played a role on basketball's brightest stage? Could he have helped defend Denver's scorers more effectively and, perhaps, have contributed to a championship run?
This season, he begins a stint with yet another new team, the Brooklyn Nets. It's just a one-year deal, but there's some stability there. "You don't have to look over your shoulder until January (when some contracts become guaranteed)," Smith said during Media Day on Oct. 2. He sees a place for him there, to be part of a young team with high expectations, a team that could use Smith's redefined game. "My skills set is kind of different than everybody else's on the team, so there's a need for what I bring to the table. The way I play the game, I need guys out there that the Nets already had in place. It's a hand-in-glove fit," he explains.
Smith has goals and dreams, as you would expect, but is unwilling to share them. The tumultuous experience of the NBA has robbed him of the optimistic comfort of looking too far ahead. Instead, he just looks ahead to the next opportunity. To lead. To defend. To be better than he was. I'm thankful for it all. Dennis Smith Jr. got out and he's not looking back. He just wants to play.
