Looking Back at the 1987 NBA Draft: Where Are They Now?

I still remember watching the 1987 NBA Draft like it was yesterday—the anticipation, the speculation, and that electric moment when David Stern stepped to the podium. As someone who's followed basketball for over three decades, I've always found something uniquely compelling about that particular draft class. It wasn't just about the top picks; it was about the stories that would unfold over the years, the careers that would blossom, and the legacies that would endure. When I think about that draft now, I can't help but reflect on how these players' journeys mirror that quote I once heard from a scout: "If they're looking for a good salary, it's really great here. Of course, there are many we haven't noticed yet, so we're just looking and looking, but of course, it's a great choice for the first pick." That sentiment perfectly captures the essence of any draft—the known quantities versus the hidden gems, the sure things versus the projects.

David Robinson going first overall to the San Antonio Spurs was about as safe a bet as you could make in professional sports. The Admiral had everything—size, skill, intelligence, and that rare combination of humility and competitive fire. I've always believed Robinson represented the ideal first pick because he wasn't just a basketball player; he was a franchise cornerstone who would elevate everyone around him. His military commitment meant Spurs fans had to wait two years, but my goodness, was he worth it. Two championships, an MVP award, ten All-Star appearances, and he finished his career with exactly 20,790 points. Robinson set the standard for what a number one pick should be, and to this day, I consider him one of the most complete centers to ever play the game.

Then there was Reggie Miller at number eleven to the Indiana Pacers. Now, I'll admit something—I initially thought this was a reach. Miller was skinny, didn't look particularly athletic, and came into the league with questions about whether he could handle physical NBA defenses. Boy, was I wrong. Reggie became one of the most clutch shooters I've ever seen, and his rivalry with the Knicks produced some of the most memorable playoff moments in NBA history. He finished with 25,279 points, all with Indiana, and revolutionized how teams valued the three-point shot long before the analytics movement took hold. Miller proved that sometimes the best picks aren't the obvious ones—they're the players with that special something you can't quite measure in combine drills.

The draft's second round produced Scottie Pippen, who went fifth in that round to Seattle before being traded to Chicago. Looking back, it's almost unbelievable that 45 players were selected before him. Pippen's transformation from a little-known college player to arguably the greatest wing defender ever is the stuff of legend. I've always maintained that while Jordan was the engine of those Bulls teams, Pippen was the transmission—everything ran through him. His versatility allowed Chicago to implement the "Doberman" defense that suffocated opponents throughout the 1990s. Six championships, seven All-Star appearances, and a spot on the NBA's 50th Anniversary Team—not bad for someone who started as an equipment manager in college.

Kenny Smith, selected sixth by Sacramento, had a solid career that often gets overlooked when discussing this draft class. The Jet provided steady point guard play for several teams before finding his perfect fit in Houston, where he won two championships alongside Hakeem Olajuwon. Smith was the kind of player every contender needs—reliable, smart, and capable of hitting big shots when it mattered. His career average of 12.8 points per game doesn't jump off the page, but his impact went beyond statistics. Nowadays, fans know him best from his television work on TNT, where his analysis reflects that same basketball IQ that made him so valuable on the court.

What fascinates me about revisiting these careers is how they illustrate the unpredictable nature of player development. Mark Jackson, taken eighteenth by New York, led the league in assists as a rookie and would eventually become one of the most prolific passers in history, finishing with 10,334 assists—a number that still places him fifth all-time. Meanwhile, Kevin Johnson, selected seventh by Cleveland before being traded to Phoenix, became a three-time All-Star whose crossover dribble remains one of the quickest I've ever witnessed. His work as mayor of Sacramento after retirement shows the kind of character and leadership he brought to every endeavor.

Some stories from that draft are more bittersweet. Reggie Lewis, picked twenty-second by Boston, showed flashes of becoming the Celtics' next great star before his tragic death at just 27 years old. His career was cut short after averaging 17.6 points per game, leaving us to wonder what might have been. Similarly, Armen Gilliam, chosen second overall by Phoenix, had a respectable 13-year career but never quite lived up to the expectations that come with being a number two pick. These reminders of basketball's fragility have always stayed with me—the understanding that potential doesn't always translate to longevity.

Today, many of these players have found success beyond basketball. Pippen and Miller have become broadcasting personalities, while Johnson serves in public office. Horace Grant, selected tenth by Chicago, has worked in various front office roles after his playing days ended. Their transitions demonstrate how the skills developed in basketball—discipline, teamwork, perseverance—translate to other fields. I've always admired players who successfully reinvent themselves after their playing careers end, and this draft class has several excellent examples.

Looking back at the 1987 NBA Draft through today's lens, what strikes me most is how these careers embody that scouting wisdom about known quantities versus hidden value. Robinson was the obvious star who delivered on every promise, while Pippen became the ultimate discovery—the player nobody fully appreciated until he was reshaping the league. Miller proved that specialists could become superstars, and role players like Smith showed that championships require contributions from every part of the roster. Their journeys remind us that in the draft, as in life, success isn't just about where you start—it's about where the journey takes you and what you become along the way. These men weren't just picks in a draft; they became part of basketball's fabric, their stories forever woven into the game's rich history.