NBA's Aquaman: How Steven Adams Became the League's Most Unique Player
I remember the first time I saw Steven Adams play - this mountain of a man moving with surprising grace, setting screens that looked like car accidents, and grabbing rebounds like he was plucking apples from a tree. There's something uniquely captivating about watching someone who's mastered the unglamorous parts of basketball while standing out with his distinctive appearance and personality. The NBA has never seen anyone quite like him, which brings me to why I've started calling him the league's Aquaman.
What makes Adams so special isn't just his physical presence - though standing at 6'11" with that legendary strength certainly helps - but how he's turned the traditional big man role into something entirely his own. While most centers today are either stretching the floor with three-pointers or trying to be the primary scorer, Adams has perfected the art of being the ultimate team player. His screening is almost artistic - I've watched games where defenders literally bounce off him like rubber balls. He creates so much space for his teammates that they must feel like they're practicing with no defense sometimes.
The timing of writing about Adams' unique value feels particularly relevant when I look at what's happening in other basketball leagues. Just yesterday, I was reading about RR Pogoy missing TNT's crucial semifinal game in the PBA's 49th Season Philippine Cup against Rain or Shine, and apparently he's going to be out for Game 4 too. It reminds me how much teams rely on their unique players, how one absence can completely change a team's dynamics. That's the thing about special players - you don't realize how much they do until they're not there. Adams has that same effect - when he's on the court, everything just flows better.
What I love about Adams is how he's reshaped what it means to be valuable in modern basketball. In an era obsessed with scoring and highlights, he's built his entire game around making everyone else better. His rebounding numbers are insane - he averaged 11.5 rebounds last season while essentially creating additional possessions through his offensive rebounds. I've counted games where he single-handedly gave his team 5-6 extra possessions just by outworking everyone for missed shots. That's the kind of stuff that doesn't always make the highlight reels but absolutely wins games.
His passing out of the post has become surprisingly sophisticated too. I remember watching a game where he had 7 assists - for a center, that's like a guard getting 20 rebounds. He sees the court in a way most big men don't, understanding angles and timing that come from years of perfecting his craft. And let's talk about that famous strength - there are legends circulating about him moving other centers like they're shopping carts. I once saw him set a screen that sent two defenders stumbling in different directions - it was almost comical how much space he created.
The Aquaman comparison isn't just about his physical presence or that magnificent hair and beard combo that would make any sea deity proud. It's about how he operates in his element - the paint might as well be his underwater kingdom. He moves through traffic like water, anticipates rebounds like he can sense where the ball will land, and has this calm, almost regal presence on court. While other players are flashy superheroes with visible powers, Adams' strengths are more subtle but equally impactful.
What's fascinating is how his game has evolved while staying true to his core strengths. He came into the league as this raw talent from New Zealand - I remember his early interviews where his dry humor and straightforward approach immediately made him a fan favorite. Over 9 seasons, he's refined his game without losing what made him special in the first place. He's added little floaters, improved his free throws (though they're still at around 54% - not great, but better than earlier in his career), and become a defensive anchor.
The current NBA values versatility, and Adams embodies this in his own way. He may not shoot threes like some modern centers, but he does everything else at such a high level that coaches have to build specific game plans around him. I've seen teams put their best defender on him not because he'll score 30 points, but because if they don't, he'll destroy them on the glass and create endless opportunities for his teammates.
Thinking back to that PBA situation with Pogoy missing crucial playoff games, it underscores how every team needs their unique contributors. For the Memphis Grizzlies, Adams is that irreplaceable piece. When he was out with injuries last season, you could see the entire team structure suffer - the rebounding dropped, the offense didn't flow as smoothly, and they lost that physical presence that Adams provides. It's the same in any league - certain players just have skillsets that can't be easily replicated.
What I appreciate most about Adams is how he's carved out this niche while staying authentically himself. In a league where players often try to fit into predefined molds, he's embraced being different. His interviews are legendary for their dry wit and honesty - I still laugh remembering when he described a hard foul as "just a bit of a love tap." That personality translates to his game too - he plays with joy and physicality in equal measure, something you don't often see.
As the NBA continues to evolve, I wonder if we'll see more players following Adams' blueprint - embracing specialized roles rather than trying to do everything. His success proves that there's still immense value in mastering the fundamentals and doing the dirty work. While everyone's chasing the next three-point shooting big man, Adams has quietly become one of the league's most impactful players by being exactly who he is - strong, smart, and unapologetically unique.
The man from Rotorua has become more than just a basketball player - he's a reminder that there are multiple ways to excel in this game. You don't have to score the most points or make the flashiest plays to leave your mark. Sometimes, being the best screener, the toughest rebounder, and the most reliable teammate is enough to become legendary in your own right. And in today's NBA, that makes Steven Adams not just unique, but truly invaluable.