The Nuggets May Have Discovered a Hidden Gem as Undrafted Star Took Over Summer League With Relentless Energy and Pure Skill
The Denver Nuggets might’ve found one of the most exciting surprises of Summer League—an undrafted player who absolutely balled out from start to finish. Every game felt like a breakout. Every possession he touched turned into something electric. He didn’t just look like he belonged; he looked like the best player on the court more often than not. And while the world came into Summer League looking at lottery picks and big-name rookies, he quietly and confidently stole the spotlight, one bucket, one hustle play, one highlight at a time.
Nobody expected him to show up like that. Not really. He wasn’t on the mock drafts. There were no think pieces written about him coming into the league. He had to fight for a roster invite, had to carry that chip on his shoulder that only undrafted players understand. And yet, when the ball was tipped, he didn’t flinch. He thrived. He made it impossible for anyone—coaches, teammates, opponents, or fans—to ignore what was happening right in front of them.
From his first touch in the opening game, he set a tone. Quick first step, confident jumper, active hands on defense, a motor that just wouldn’t stop. He got into passing lanes, dove for loose balls, crashed the boards like he was six inches taller, and still found the energy to run the break and finish through contact. He didn’t just make plays—he created momentum. Coaches live for guys like that. Guys who bring juice on both ends. Guys who play every minute like it might be their last.
And for him, it just might have been. That’s the urgency he played with. You could feel it in the way he fought through screens, the way he got back in transition defense after a missed shot, the way he celebrated a teammate’s bucket like it was his own. He was fully bought in, totally locked in, and as the games wore on, so was everyone watching.
By game two, commentators were name-dropping him. Opponents started adjusting. The defensive attention increased. But it didn’t slow him down—it just brought out more of what made him special. He began to show off the full bag. Pull-up jumpers with a hand in his face. Step-back threes off the dribble. Slick bounce passes in traffic. No-look kick-outs to corner shooters. And above all, poise. That calm-under-pressure presence you just don’t expect from a guy who went undrafted.
What really popped was the way he controlled tempo. When the team needed to slow things down, he ran the halfcourt offense with surgical precision. When they needed a jolt, he pushed the pace, forced turnovers, and took defenders off the dribble with ruthless aggression. He didn’t waste dribbles. Didn’t hunt hero shots. Everything he did was sharp, efficient, and team-first. It was the kind of mature play that screams NBA-ready, even when it’s coming from someone with no guarantees.
And then came the breakout performance. The one that had scouts texting each other, that had Twitter buzzing with clips and stats, that had fans asking, “Who is this guy?” He dropped 26 points on a highly touted rookie matchup, added 8 assists, 5 rebounds, and 3 steals—and it wasn’t even the stat line that impressed most. It was how he did it. He torched defenders with hesitation moves, finished at the rim with both hands, and made life miserable for whoever tried to bring the ball up against him. That night, it didn’t look like Summer League. It looked like something bigger.
Suddenly, he was on everyone’s radar. No longer a secret. No longer a fluke. Coaches were singing his praises in postgame interviews. Players were going out of their way to dap him up. He walked into the gym with a different aura—still humble, still hungry, but undeniably confident. He wasn’t just surviving Summer League anymore. He was dominating it.
What made it even more impressive was how consistent he remained. There were no disappearing acts. No “he cooled off” narratives. Every night, he brought it. Shot-making, playmaking, effort—he checked every box. The Nuggets’ coaching staff couldn’t take their eyes off him. Neither could fans. The highlights kept piling up: a thunderous dunk in traffic, a chase-down block, a perfect pick-and-roll dime, a clutch three to seal a win. His fingerprints were all over every game.
It wasn’t just the flash, either. The kid could defend. Lock up full court. Stay in front of quicker guards. Fight through screens. Switch onto wings and hold his own. He had the kind of defensive tenacity you just can’t teach—the kind that turns heads in film rooms and earns minutes in the NBA. In a league that values two-way guards more than ever, he was starting to look like a steal.
And maybe that’s what he was—a flat-out steal. Because this wasn’t a player just trying to earn a G League spot. This was a player pushing for real NBA rotation minutes. He didn’t back down from matchups. Didn’t look rattled when the pressure was on. If anything, he looked like he’d been waiting his whole life for this opportunity. Like he knew something the rest of the world was just starting to figure out: that he belonged.
His story began to circulate. Coaches from his college days talked about his work ethic. Trainers talked about the extra hours he put in. Teammates mentioned how he never missed a workout, how he studied the game constantly, how he had “that dog” in him. All the clichés, yes—but for him, they weren’t just talk. They showed up every single time he stepped on the court.
The Nuggets, already known for their smart development pipeline, might have stumbled into another gem. And while it’s still early, and the NBA is a different beast from Summer League, it’s hard to ignore what he’s shown. Hard to deny that spark, that edge, that production. Players like this don’t come around often—guys who combine underdog hunger with NBA-ready skill sets. But when they do, the smart teams pounce.
And Denver? Denver just might have struck gold. Again.
They don’t need him to be a star tomorrow. They don’t even need him to score double digits every night. What they need—and what he’s already proven he can deliver—is effort, energy, and execution. That 9th or 10th man off the bench who changes games with defense and decision-making. That second-unit spark plug who can handle the ball, space the floor, and defend his tail off. The kind of guy championship teams lean on when things get tough.
He’s already drawing comparisons to other undrafted success stories. The Fred VanVleets, the Jose Alvarados, the guys who weren’t given anything but earned everything. That’s the path he’s on. And if Summer League was any indication, he’s already several steps ahead of the curve.
By the final game, it didn’t matter where he came from. Didn’t matter that he wasn’t drafted, that he didn’t have the hype or the pedigree. He was the guy everyone was watching. The guy teammates trusted with the ball in his hands when the game was close. The guy who made big plays look routine and never looked rattled doing it.
And when the final buzzer sounded, and the lights came down on Summer League, his name wasn’t just penciled in as “promising.” It was underlined. Circled. Bolded. He wasn’t a question mark anymore. He was a statement.
For the Nuggets, it could be the beginning of something special. Another piece to the puzzle. Another testament to their scouting, development, and culture. But more than that, it’s a reminder of what makes basketball beautiful: that talent can be found anywhere, that heart still matters, and that sometimes, the brightest stars rise out of nowhere.
The undrafted kid who balled out from start to finish? He may have come in under the radar, but he’s leaving as one of Summer League’s brightest revelations. Now, the question isn’t whether he’ll make the roster—it’s how much impact he’ll have when he does.
