In recruiting- and coaching-industry lexicon, there are "pros," and then there are "four-year guys."
It's a simple way of delineating the franchise players from the company men.
Thing is, with this simplistic manner of categorizing players, a youngster must, logic says, be one or the other, but not both, because they're inherently two very different things in this context.
It's not to say that a high school "four-year guy" can't outkick the coverage when he gets to college and switch categories and it's not to say a "pro" can't cross over, either. Every young person is different and develops at a different rate, both on and off the court.
A.J. Hammons has been viewed in the "pro" context for years now. Funny what happens when you're 7 feet tall, with soft hands and the feet of a ballerina relative to your size. That label gets assigned quickly and sticks like gum to the sole of your Nikes.
It's a label Hammons himself bought into, as he had every reason in the world to, considering the physical gifts he possesses that set him apart from 90 percent of his peers.
"I didn't look at myself as a four-year guy," Hammons said Tuesday when discussing his decision to stay at Purdue for his senior season, thus making him the "four-year guy" no one ever thought he'd be. "I hit a couple bumps in the road and that went into it. You have to live with your decisions. It's not a bad thing that I'm a four-year guy, because I'll get my degree, possibly get to win some rings. And my first two years weren't that good and that went into it too.
"I have no problem being a four-year guy, but I didn’t plan on it, not at all."
Hammons is no longer on the schedule he and those around him might have envisioned. He was never a "one-and-done" prospect, but no one - not even Purdue - figured deep down he'd see his college eligibility through to the end.
But there is no shame whatsoever in the fact he will. In fact, in a roundabout way, it's something to be celebrated. Too many players nowadays jump just to jump, because that was their plan all along or because culture mandates they do, whether there's a soft landing ahead or a face full of sidewalk.
Like any of these decisions for any player, this was a business decision for Hammons. If he were assured of being a pick of this strata or that one, he'd be gone. He'd be silly not to strike while the iron is hot and Purdue would be helping him pack, fully on board with his decision.
But things were not cut and dried for Hammons, however confident he might have been that he could have increased his standing during pre-draft workouts.
Some players might have viewed being a "four-year guy" as some admission of defeat, silly as that might sound, but a reality nowadays for players who get viewed a certain way at such-and-such a stage of their careers and their lives.
Hammons seems to be embracing it after making a decision in which he seemed to value important things like comfort, quality of life, winning and education, beyond just the simple opportunity to help himself make more money a year from now than he might have today.
And let's make this clear: Hammons might not have been a first-round pick this year, but he still could have made a hell of a lot of money leaving Purdue now, just not on his terms as much as perhaps he can later.
This seems like a pretty mature decision for someone who's come a long way as a player but even further as a person during his college career.
Hammons is different, always has been, and that's OK. He's grown, or is growing, out of some of the consistency and maturity issues he's had in the past and he seems to have developed more self-awareness and a more serious approach to all things than he's ever had before. He's always been brighter and more astute than people have given him credit for, but it's now more overt and more productive.
If you knew Hammons when he was younger - the Hammons who once went to a movie on his official visit to Purdue by himself - and could hold that picture up to the Hammons you see today, it's been a dramatic development.
Yes, Hammons is still silly - he cracked up Tuesday when he talked himself into a Drake lyric when talking to the media and later in the day actually left his house wearing a shirt decorated with pandas, caribou and what appeared to be potato chips - but there's a switch now.
He's silly, but also capable of talking thoughtfully about "legacy" and saying profound things like the following:
"I love Purdue and everything and I've had a great three years here but it was hard pushing back my dream one more year. It was something where I had to sit down and just make sure to think critically about it."
Or …
"I'd rather just stay here instead of going to the next level and being just another face. I'd rather stay here, try to get a ring and get my degree, too."
It's been a long process for Hammons.
When Brandon Brantley first saw Hammons, he was an assistant coach at Ben Davis High School in Indianapolis when Hammons played at Carmel.
Brantley thought then that Hammons could really be something if someone got him to take basketball seriously, having no idea then that he'd be hired at Purdue years later to do just that.
But when he got back to West Lafayette, his work was cut out.
"I was watching film when I got here and thought, 'This is a lazy dude, man,'" Brantley said. "He had all the potential in the world, but he didn't know how to work. You'd watch him and he'd be walking into ball screens (on defense) and walking into closeouts. It was disgusting watching him.
"But he's come a long way."
He's come a long way as a player, trimmed down and energized and now reasonably consistent, with an urgency about him that no one had ever seen before. He's having more fun than he probably ever has playing basketball, and his teammates deserve some of the credit for that. Hammons gets the credit, but there's no question this complementary cast has helped bring out the best in him.
As a person, he's entirely different, still silly, but not when it comes to everything. He cared profoundly about teammates this season and cared more about winning. He took things seriously and took responsibility for teammates and himself for the first time in his college career.
More than anything, he took responsibility for himself and you saw the results from the midseason point on, reaching a level he intends to play all of next season at, the single biggest thing he can do as a senior to boost the NBA's perspective of him.
Hammons is still a "pro." He still has all those same tools and talents he always has, if not more. But he's also a "four-year guy," someone who's had to go the distance in college to get the most he can out of himself.
The latter has been the real process for Hammons.
The term "pro" is so commonly used in evaluation of players nowadays, but perhaps misused in a lot of ways.
"It's a term that we use, but it's too loose, because there's more to being a pro than being a big, strong guy who can run and jump," Brantley said. "Pros, man, they do their due diligence. Look at a guy like Robbie Hummel, that's a good example of a pro. A guy like Brian Cardinal. Those are guys who show up every day and work, no matter what. They don't get too high and they don't get too low. They come in and work, no matter what.
"I know we all get caught up in raw talent, size and speed, but that's my definition of a pro: A kid who doesn't necessarily have to have those attributes but he works and works and works and he's competitive. A.J. has always been hearing (he's a pro), but I think he's finally understanding what it means, and takes, to be a pro."
It's a simple way of delineating the franchise players from the company men.
Thing is, with this simplistic manner of categorizing players, a youngster must, logic says, be one or the other, but not both, because they're inherently two very different things in this context.
It's not to say that a high school "four-year guy" can't outkick the coverage when he gets to college and switch categories and it's not to say a "pro" can't cross over, either. Every young person is different and develops at a different rate, both on and off the court.
A.J. Hammons has been viewed in the "pro" context for years now. Funny what happens when you're 7 feet tall, with soft hands and the feet of a ballerina relative to your size. That label gets assigned quickly and sticks like gum to the sole of your Nikes.
It's a label Hammons himself bought into, as he had every reason in the world to, considering the physical gifts he possesses that set him apart from 90 percent of his peers.
"I didn't look at myself as a four-year guy," Hammons said Tuesday when discussing his decision to stay at Purdue for his senior season, thus making him the "four-year guy" no one ever thought he'd be. "I hit a couple bumps in the road and that went into it. You have to live with your decisions. It's not a bad thing that I'm a four-year guy, because I'll get my degree, possibly get to win some rings. And my first two years weren't that good and that went into it too.
"I have no problem being a four-year guy, but I didn’t plan on it, not at all."
Hammons is no longer on the schedule he and those around him might have envisioned. He was never a "one-and-done" prospect, but no one - not even Purdue - figured deep down he'd see his college eligibility through to the end.
But there is no shame whatsoever in the fact he will. In fact, in a roundabout way, it's something to be celebrated. Too many players nowadays jump just to jump, because that was their plan all along or because culture mandates they do, whether there's a soft landing ahead or a face full of sidewalk.
Like any of these decisions for any player, this was a business decision for Hammons. If he were assured of being a pick of this strata or that one, he'd be gone. He'd be silly not to strike while the iron is hot and Purdue would be helping him pack, fully on board with his decision.
But things were not cut and dried for Hammons, however confident he might have been that he could have increased his standing during pre-draft workouts.
Some players might have viewed being a "four-year guy" as some admission of defeat, silly as that might sound, but a reality nowadays for players who get viewed a certain way at such-and-such a stage of their careers and their lives.
Hammons seems to be embracing it after making a decision in which he seemed to value important things like comfort, quality of life, winning and education, beyond just the simple opportunity to help himself make more money a year from now than he might have today.
And let's make this clear: Hammons might not have been a first-round pick this year, but he still could have made a hell of a lot of money leaving Purdue now, just not on his terms as much as perhaps he can later.
This seems like a pretty mature decision for someone who's come a long way as a player but even further as a person during his college career.
Hammons is different, always has been, and that's OK. He's grown, or is growing, out of some of the consistency and maturity issues he's had in the past and he seems to have developed more self-awareness and a more serious approach to all things than he's ever had before. He's always been brighter and more astute than people have given him credit for, but it's now more overt and more productive.
If you knew Hammons when he was younger - the Hammons who once went to a movie on his official visit to Purdue by himself - and could hold that picture up to the Hammons you see today, it's been a dramatic development.
Yes, Hammons is still silly - he cracked up Tuesday when he talked himself into a Drake lyric when talking to the media and later in the day actually left his house wearing a shirt decorated with pandas, caribou and what appeared to be potato chips - but there's a switch now.
He's silly, but also capable of talking thoughtfully about "legacy" and saying profound things like the following:
"I love Purdue and everything and I've had a great three years here but it was hard pushing back my dream one more year. It was something where I had to sit down and just make sure to think critically about it."
Or …
"I'd rather just stay here instead of going to the next level and being just another face. I'd rather stay here, try to get a ring and get my degree, too."
It's been a long process for Hammons.
When Brandon Brantley first saw Hammons, he was an assistant coach at Ben Davis High School in Indianapolis when Hammons played at Carmel.
Brantley thought then that Hammons could really be something if someone got him to take basketball seriously, having no idea then that he'd be hired at Purdue years later to do just that.
But when he got back to West Lafayette, his work was cut out.
"I was watching film when I got here and thought, 'This is a lazy dude, man,'" Brantley said. "He had all the potential in the world, but he didn't know how to work. You'd watch him and he'd be walking into ball screens (on defense) and walking into closeouts. It was disgusting watching him.
"But he's come a long way."
He's come a long way as a player, trimmed down and energized and now reasonably consistent, with an urgency about him that no one had ever seen before. He's having more fun than he probably ever has playing basketball, and his teammates deserve some of the credit for that. Hammons gets the credit, but there's no question this complementary cast has helped bring out the best in him.
As a person, he's entirely different, still silly, but not when it comes to everything. He cared profoundly about teammates this season and cared more about winning. He took things seriously and took responsibility for teammates and himself for the first time in his college career.
More than anything, he took responsibility for himself and you saw the results from the midseason point on, reaching a level he intends to play all of next season at, the single biggest thing he can do as a senior to boost the NBA's perspective of him.
Hammons is still a "pro." He still has all those same tools and talents he always has, if not more. But he's also a "four-year guy," someone who's had to go the distance in college to get the most he can out of himself.
The latter has been the real process for Hammons.
The term "pro" is so commonly used in evaluation of players nowadays, but perhaps misused in a lot of ways.
"It's a term that we use, but it's too loose, because there's more to being a pro than being a big, strong guy who can run and jump," Brantley said. "Pros, man, they do their due diligence. Look at a guy like Robbie Hummel, that's a good example of a pro. A guy like Brian Cardinal. Those are guys who show up every day and work, no matter what. They don't get too high and they don't get too low. They come in and work, no matter what.
"I know we all get caught up in raw talent, size and speed, but that's my definition of a pro: A kid who doesn't necessarily have to have those attributes but he works and works and works and he's competitive. A.J. has always been hearing (he's a pro), but I think he's finally understanding what it means, and takes, to be a pro."
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