Kevin Garnett 
Anthony Davis
AD and KG couldn’t be more different personality-wise, but people forget that back in the late ’90s, before KG turned into a brooding, maniacal swashbuckler, he was a meek kid under Sam Mitchell’s wing. When AD was entering the league, many compared him to Tim Duncan, likely because of each player’s stoicism. But Young AD is Young KG. Long. Agile. Full-court defenders—like all, 94 feet. Burgeoning mid-range game. High IQ. Future Hall of Famer.
Go to next
Michael Jordan Kobe Bryant
At this point, Kobe Bryant is Kobe Bryant, right? Like, at a certain point, we stopped comparing Nas to Rakim. Kobe is well beyond the point of comparing to any other player, like he needs a proxy for us to process his place in the game. But we’ll never forget young Kobe—the dude who didn’t just walk, talk and play like an imitation MJ...he literally mimicked how the man chewed his gum. He was like Stevie to MJ’s Kenny Powers in the final season of Eastbound and Down.
Go to next
Latrell Sprewell Russell Westbrook
Yeah, they've played different positions. Although, if you ask the moron Russ haters, Westbrook is really a 2-guard fronting like a point guard. It’s hard to compare a true original like Russ to any predecessor, but both of these dudes were/are super-athletic, irascible, ultra-confident, all-out, hard-dunking, streaky-shooting, ball-hounding animals. However, we doubt Russ will ever lay paws on Scotty Brooks.
Go to next
Pete Maravich Steph Curry
Steph is really the artist formerly known as Chris Jackson, but with our Hall of Fame criteria for the prototype, let’s go with another LSU Tiger: the Pistol. Much of Steph’s rep is rightfully tied to his range, but he’s so much more than that. The common thread sewing together Steph and Pistol Pete is their wizardry with the ball. The zigging and zagging; the off-kilter pull-up; the split-second release; the degree of difficulty on some of their no-conscious attempts that splash through the nets; the one-handed Houdini passes from weird angles. Magicians recognize magicians.
Go to next
Charles Barkley Blake Griffin
The next time the Los Angeles Clippers play the New York Knicks, check whenever Griffin stands next to Carmelo Anthony. They’re about the same height. If you can believe it, height-wise, Griffin—listed at 6’10”—is somewhat undersized. Remember another undersized power forward who used to Mack Truck his way for coast-to-coast dunks, could knock down 20-footers, see the court like a point guard (there’s a reason the Clips kept winning with Chris Paul in street clothes last season) and whose physical hallmark is that he plays like one of the Monstars from Space Jam?
Go to next
Ray Allen Klay Thompson
Who, other than his backcourt mate, is scarier coming off a screen these days than young Klay? Who, other than maybe Reggie Miller, was scarier coming off a screen than Ray in his heyday? Are the two an exact match? Nah. Ray was a far better creator, and Klay has quietly become one of the better perimeter defenders of his day. But we all know what we’re getting at here: When they let it go, it’s bombs away and lights-out.
Go to next
Patrick Ewing DeMarcus Cousins
Big Cous’ prototype is really Shaq getting that rock in the paint and just bullying dudes out of the way. But let’s just say we won’t see another Shaq for a while, bet? So, who was a Boogie, before Boogie? Patrick Ewing? Once Ewing put on his grown-man weight, he didn’t resemble the high-flyer from his Hoya Paranoia days. The ‘90s Ewing was a physical center with a sophisticated—but not athletically explosive—offensive game. And depending on the second party (opponents, refs, media), he could be an ornery dude, too. Sounds like 2014 DeMarcus Cousins.
Go to next
Larry Bird Dirk Nowitzki
Dirk is nowhere near the passer Bird was and doesn’t possess Larry Legend’s cagey defensive skills. To be honest, Dirk is probably more Bob McAdoo or Jack Sikma than Larry, but you know how this goes. Bird didn’t have a signature move on par with Dirk’s fadeaway. But Dirk isn’t even remotely close to being discussed, like Bird, as perhaps the greatest passer of all time. But when you’re a ground-bound ballerina murking opponents with all sorts of funky-formed, demoralizing 20- to 25-footers, Bird is going to be your prototype.
Go to next
Scottie Pippen Paul George
Who else would a lean, explosive, two-way beast remind you of? George can even play a little point forward, a la Scottie. Too bad George can’t play Scottie to someone’s MJ. During the 2014 playoffs, PG averaged 22.6 points, 7.6 boards, 3.8 assists and 2.2 steals through three series. Meanwhile, he doubled as his team’s ace perimeter defender. The year before—his sort of national introduction—it was 19.2, 7.4, 5.1 and 1.3. These kind of numbers approach Pipp’s during the Bulls’ first three-peat. Are we reaching? Maybe. But not too much.
Go to next
Bernard King Carmelo Anthony
Anthony and King are both unstoppable scoring machines who put in work at The World’s Most Famous Arena for middling Knick squads. Melo likes the ball on the wings, and Bernard worked those baselines. But both had first steps and pull-up games for the ages. Both were likely chucking that thang when it swung their way. Bernard was a shooting star for the Knicks—a virtuoso plying his craft for average squads before a career-debilitating injury. Melo’s Knicks tenure might be lengthier, but it eerily bears the same markings.
Go to next
Isiah Thomas Chris Paul
Of course there’s the similarity in physical stature. Of course they were/are both masters at controlling a game, able to pick their spots for three quarters and then hit a squad for 15 in the fourth quarter of a tight game. Of course they are two of the most supernaturally intelligent players to ever bounce a ball. But what really makes them kindred is that they played the game with a Napoleon-like rage and hair-trigger temper fit for a Joe Pesci character.
Go to next
Kevin Johnson Tony Parker
It’s all about that mid-range game. It’s also all about being able to get to the bucket—and finish—whenever you want. At his peak, KJ was unstoppable. All due respect to Isiah, but from 1989 to 1992—when KJ was a 20-10 machine—he was arguably the best point guard not named Magic. For the past several years, Parker has arguably been the best point guard not named Chris Paul. And there’s also this: How often did/do you see KJ and TP take a trey?
Go to next
Arvydas Sabonis Marc Gasol
Most hoopheads lament that we were never able to see Sabonis in his prime. Bill Walton said he was like a “7’3” Larry Bird.” He tore his Achilles in 1986 and was never the same, but he still bullied young David Robinson and Co. so nastily in the 1988 Olympics that America thought, “We better send the pros next time.” If he has a present-day incarnation—which, to be honest, he does not—it’d be Gasol, a nimble, slick-passing mammoth of a center.
Go to next
Jason Kidd Rajon Rondo
Triple-doubles (or in Rondo’s case, near-triple-doubles). Flat, errant jumpers (at least before J-Kidd reinvented himself in his final years as a trey-slinger). Their mad-scientist, two-steps-ahead court vision. No one has ever really played the game quite like Kidd or Rondo, and both are among the most unique hoopers of all time. So, in many ways, that makes them even more similar. Rondo has never been the tour de force that Kidd was at his apex, but there’d be poetry if one of Kidd’s point guard offspring was the missing piece in another Mavs championship.
Go to next
Oscar Robertson LeBron James
In actuality, Bron is a mix of Magic Johnson, Larry Bird, Jordan and Barkley in Karl Malone’s body. But if this exercise calls for us to concentrate this to one player, you probably have to go with the human triple-double: The Big O. By the way, Robertson was as big (6’5”, 200-plus lbs) and physical as some power forwards back in his day, too. And he had the same alien-like athleticism in his era that’s marked LBJ’s career.
Go to next