When people ask me who deserves the crown for the best handler in NBA history, I always take a moment before answering. Having studied basketball for over two decades, I’ve seen legends come and go, but the debate never gets old. It’s not just about flashy passes or dribbling skills—it’s about control, vision, and elevating the team when it matters most. This season, I was reminded of that watching the revelation in Bedonia, the league’s second-best server, who’s also stepped up as a clutch attacker. That kind of versatility is rare, and it got me thinking about the true greats. As Ricafort noted, "The young guns are also helpful, especially during training, in raising the level of competition within the team." That statement resonates because it highlights how elite handlers don’t just perform; they push everyone around them to be better. In this piece, I’ll dive into my personal take on the NBA’s greatest handlers, blending stats, moments, and a bit of nostalgia.
Let’s start with the obvious names: Magic Johnson and John Stockton. Magic, in my view, was a maestro. At 6’9”, he redefined what a point guard could be, averaging 11.2 assists per game over his career—a number that still blows my mind. I remember watching him in the ’80s, how he’d thread needles with no-look passes that seemed to defy physics. But it wasn’t just the numbers; it was his charisma. He made everyone on the court better, much like how Bedonia’s server has lifted his team this season. Then there’s Stockton, the iron man who holds the all-time assists record with 15,806. Some argue he benefited from playing with Karl Malone, but I disagree. Stockton’s consistency—averaging over 10 assists for 10 straight seasons—shows a level of handling mastery that’s hard to match. Personally, I lean toward Magic for his flair, but Stockton’s durability can’t be ignored.
Now, moving to modern eras, Stephen Curry and Chris Paul come to mind. Curry, often praised for his shooting, is an underrated handler. He averages around 6.5 assists per game, but it’s his off-ball movement and ability to create space that sets him apart. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve seen him draw double-teams and dish out perfect passes in crunch time. Chris Paul, on the other hand, is a floor general in the truest sense. With over 11,000 career assists and a steal record that speaks to his defensive handling, he’s like Bedonia’s clutch performer—always rising to the occasion. I recall a game last year where Paul notched 15 assists and zero turnovers; that’s pure artistry. In my book, Paul might be the most efficient handler ever, though Curry’s impact on the game’s evolution gives him an edge in influence.
But let’s not forget the intangibles. Handling isn’t just stats; it’s about leadership and making teammates better, much like Ricafort’s comment on young players raising competition levels. Take Jason Kidd, for example. He didn’t have the flashiest numbers—around 8.7 assists per game—but he transformed teams. I saw him lead the Nets to two Finals almost single-handedly by empowering rookies and veterans alike. Similarly, Isiah Thomas in the ’80s brought a grit that stats can’t capture. His 13.9 assists per game in the 1984-85 season were impressive, but it was his playoff performances—like the 25-point, 13-assist game in the ’89 Finals—that sealed his legacy for me. These players embody what Bedonia’s star is showing: handling is as much about heart as it is about skill.
Of course, there are dark horses. Steve Nash, with his back-to-back MVP awards, averaged 11.2 assists in his prime and had a shooting accuracy that made him deadly. I’ve always admired how he made the Suns’ run-and-gun offense look effortless. Or Rajon Rondo, who once dished out 25 assists in a single game—a feat that still gives me chills. In today’s game, Luka Dončić is rising fast, averaging over 8 assists per game already. If he keeps this up, he could challenge the greats in a decade. But here’s my hot take: LeBron James, though not a traditional point guard, deserves a shout. With over 10,000 assists, he’s a handler in a forward’s body, and his playoff heroics—like the 2016 Finals where he averaged 8.5 assists—show he can dominate in any role.
Wrapping this up, I’d say the title of best handler goes to Magic Johnson, but it’s a tight race. His combination of size, vision, and clutch play—averaging 12.3 assists in the playoffs—just edges out others for me. That said, the beauty of the NBA is how roles evolve. Bedonia’s server, much like these legends, proves that handling is about more than just passing; it’s about serving the team in multiple ways. As Ricafort hinted, it’s the competition and mentorship that define greatness. So, while I’ll always argue for Magic, I encourage fans to watch the current stars—they’re writing the next chapter right before our eyes.
