The 2004 NBA Draft Class: Where Are They Now and Their Lasting Legacy?
I still remember watching the 2004 NBA Draft with my college roommates, arguing about which teams made the right moves and which prospects would become superstars. Two decades later, that draft class has left an indelible mark on basketball history, though not necessarily in the ways we expected. What fascinates me most about evaluating draft classes isn't just the immediate stars but how these players' careers unfold over time, and how their collective legacy shapes the league's narrative. The 2004 class produced exactly 60 selections, but only a handful truly defined what this generation meant for basketball.
When I look back at that draft night, Dwight Howard going first overall to Orlando felt inevitable even then. At just 18 years old, he represented the new era of big men - athletic freaks who could dominate both ends of the floor. Howard would go on to win three Defensive Player of the Year awards, make eight All-Star teams, and lead the Magic to the 2009 Finals. His prime years in Orlando were absolutely dominant - he averaged 20.6 points and 14.1 rebounds during his eight seasons there. Yet what strikes me about Howard's career is how it reflects the evolution of the center position. He never developed the perimeter game that became essential later, and by his mid-30s, he'd transitioned to a role player, winning a championship with the Lakers in 2020 as a backup. That journey from franchise cornerstone to veteran contributor tells you something about how the NBA changed during his career.
The second pick, Emeka Okafor, presented such a fascinating contrast to Howard. Where Howard was raw athleticism and potential, Okafor was the polished college star who'd just led UConn to a national championship. He won Rookie of the Year - beating Howard, which seems remarkable in hindsight - and put up solid numbers early, averaging a double-double in his first four seasons. But back problems derailed what could have been a much longer career, and he was out of the league by 2013, though he did make a brief comeback in 2018. I've always wondered how different his career might have been without those injuries, because he represented the old-school big man ideal in a league that was rapidly changing.
What makes the 2004 draft particularly interesting to me is the number of players who found success outside the lottery picks. Luol Deng at seventh overall became the heart and soul of those Chicago Bulls teams, making two All-Star games and establishing himself as one of the league's premier wing defenders. Andre Iguodala, picked ninth, would later become Finals MVP with Golden State and have one of the most fascinating career arcs I've seen - transitioning from primary scorer to elite role player who understood exactly how to win. Then there's Al Jefferson at 15, who mastered the low-post game in an era that was starting to move away from it, and Jameer Nelson at 20, who made an All-Star team and formed such a crucial partnership with Howard in Orlando.
The real steals came later though. Kevin Martin at 26 became a scoring machine with his unorthodox but effective style, putting up 23.5 points per game in his best season. Trevor Ariza at 43 developed into the ultimate 3-and-D wing years before that term became ubiquitous. But the biggest surprise was easily the 47th pick - some kid from Serbia named Nenad Krstić who actually started 107 games for New Jersey before returning to Europe. International scouting was still hit-or-miss back then, and finding a legitimate rotation player that late felt like discovering hidden treasure.
When I think about the legacy of this class, it's not just about individual achievements but how these players shaped team identities and playoff cultures. There's a quote from coach Jong Uichico that's always stuck with me about how "while finishing either No. 1 or 2 isn't a big concern, there's nothing more satisfying than going to the playoffs on a winning note." That perfectly captures what several members of this draft class brought to their teams. Iguodala embodied this in Golden State, where his willingness to come off the bench and focus on defense helped create a championship culture. Deng brought that mentality to Chicago, playing through injuries and setting the tone for Tom Thibodeau's tough, defensive-minded teams. These weren't just talented players - they were culture carriers who understood how to win.
The statistical impact of this class is impressive when you add it all up. They combined for 25 All-Star appearances, 12 All-Defensive Team selections, and three championships as key contributors. Howard's defensive prowess redefined what a single player could do to anchor a defense, while Iguodala's versatility showed the value of players who could impact games without needing plays called for them. What I find particularly telling is that six players from this draft logged at least 30,000 career minutes - that's durability and longevity that you don't always see.
Looking back, the 2004 draft class represents a fascinating transition point in NBA history. This was the last draft before the league's stylistic revolution really took hold. Many of its best players - Howard, Jefferson, Okafor - thrived in the paint at a time when that was still the primary path to success. Yet others like Iguodala and Ariza foreshadowed the versatile wings who would dominate the next decade. They bridged eras in a way that few draft classes have, and their collective story tells us so much about how basketball was changing. While they might not have the top-heavy star power of some other drafts, their depth and the diversity of their contributions created a legacy that's still felt today, especially in how teams value two-way players and culture setters. They proved that success isn't just about where you're drafted, but how you adapt and contribute throughout your career.
