Looking back at the 2016 NBA Draft, I still get that familiar rush of excitement mixed with professional curiosity. Having tracked these prospects from their high school days through college and international leagues, I've developed what I like to think of as a sixth sense for spotting genuine NBA talent versus temporary hype. This draft class was particularly fascinating because it wasn't just about individual talents—it was about relationships and parallel development paths that reminded me of that intriguing dynamic where players have known each other since childhood and followed nearly identical paths to stardom, much like what we sometimes see in the UAAP league dynamics.

When I first started compiling my big board back in early 2016, Ben Simmons stood out as the clear number one prospect, and honestly, I never wavered on that assessment. The Australian forward had that rare combination of size, vision, and ball-handling that you simply can't teach—standing at 6'10" with a wingspan measuring exactly 7 feet 0.25 inches, he could genuinely play point guard in a power forward's body. I remember watching his LSU tape and thinking he was like a younger, more athletic version of Draymond Green but with better scoring instincts. Some scouts questioned his shooting mechanics and occasional passive play, but I believed then—and still do—that his passing vision and transition offense would translate immediately to the NBA level.

What made this draft class particularly compelling was the Brandon Ingram versus Simmons debate that dominated draft discussions throughout that spring. Ingram's slender frame worried me initially—he weighed just 196 pounds during his Duke measurements—but his scoring versatility and 7'3" wingspan made him impossible to ignore. I had him firmly at number two on my board, though I'll admit I was more cautious about his immediate impact compared to other analysts. His shooting stroke was pure, no question, but I wondered how he'd handle the physicality of NBA wings. Still, watching him develop since then has been a pleasure, even if I slightly underestimated how quickly he'd adapt.

The third spot on my board went to Dragan Bender, and yes, I can already hear the criticism about that selection. International prospects always carry more uncertainty, but Bender's combination of size and skill at just 18 years old was too intriguing to pass up. Standing 7'1" with legitimate three-point range and defensive mobility, he represented the modern NBA big man prototype. I'll confess I overvalued his immediate readiness—I projected he'd average about 12 points and 7 rebounds in his rookie season, while he actually struggled to find consistent minutes. Still, when I look back at the draft context, I stand by having him in that third spot based on the information available at the time.

What really fascinated me about this draft class were the interconnected stories that emerged, particularly among the guards. Kris Dunn and Jamal Murray had been on collision courses since their high school days, with Dunn's defensive tenacity contrasting with Murray's scoring polish. I had Dunn at number four on my board, slightly ahead of Murray at five, primarily because I valued Dunn's two-way potential and believed his age (22 at the draft) meant he was more NBA-ready. Murray's shooting was clearly special—he hit 40.8% from three at Kentucky—but I worried about his ability to create his own shot against NBA athletes. Shows what I know—Murray's development into a superstar has been one of the most pleasant surprises of this draft class.

The middle of the first round contained what I considered the draft's biggest steals, with Domantas Sabonis at number eleven on my board being my personal favorite value pick. Having watched his development since his Gonzaga days, I was convinced his basketball IQ and passing ability would translate beautifully to the modern NBA, even if his athletic testing numbers weren't particularly impressive. I remember arguing with colleagues that Sabonis would be a more impactful pro than several players drafted ahead of him, and I take particular satisfaction in how that prediction has aged. His footwork in the post reminded me of his father, but it was his developing three-point shot that convinced me he could thrive in today's spacing-oriented offenses.

What made evaluating this class particularly challenging was the number of players with similar backgrounds and development trajectories—that phenomenon where prospects have known each other since childhood and followed parallel paths to prominence. We saw this most notably with Jaylen Brown and Marquese Chriss, both explosive athletes from California who developed through the AAU circuit before starring in the Pac-12. I had Brown at number six, significantly higher than most public boards, because I believed his defensive versatility and driving ability would translate immediately. Chriss I had at fifteen—the athleticism was tantalizing, but the defensive awareness concerns worried me enough to slot him lower than the consensus.

The international contingent beyond Bender provided fascinating case studies in projection. Guerschon Yabusele at number twenty-two and Timothe Luwawu-Cabarrot at twenty-four represented the type of versatile wings that the NBA was increasingly valuing. Yabusele's combination of strength and shooting touch—he measured 6'8", 270 pounds with a 7'0" wingspan while shooting 39% from deep in France—made him one of my favorite sleepers, though I'll admit I overestimated how quickly he'd adapt to the NBA game. Luwawu-Cabarrot's athletic profile and defensive potential reminded me of a young Nicolas Batum, and while his development has been slower than I projected, he's shown flashes of that two-way wing potential I valued.

Looking back five years later, what strikes me most about the 2016 draft class is how the relationships and parallel development paths between prospects created fascinating narratives throughout their careers. The Simmons-Ingram debate that began in college continues in the NBA, while the secondary storylines involving players like Sabonis, Murray, and Brown have provided some of the most compelling career arcs in recent memory. My big board certainly had its hits and misses—I'll gladly claim credit for being higher on Brown and Sabonis than most, while acknowledging my overvaluation of Bender and several international prospects. What remains clear is that evaluating NBA talent requires balancing quantitative measurements with qualitative assessments of fit, development trajectory, and that elusive "feel for the game" that separates good prospects from franchise cornerstones.