The Moment Lonzo Ball Stopped Feeling Like Lonzo Ball

I still remember the day my older brother told me about this young point guard. He said, “He’s special. He’s different. He’s going to be the next real thing.”
I thought, alright, I’ll check him out.

And let me tell you: the moment I watched him play, I was hooked. Not because he looked like anyone else — but because he didn’t. Lonzo Ball had his own identity, his own rhythm, his own aura. His game felt… unique.

Then came that UCLA loss in the NCAA Tournament against De’Aaron Fox and Malik Monk’s Kentucky Wildcats. After that game, my brother changed his tune. “I don’t think he’s going to be elite anymore,” he said. “I see limitations. He doesn’t have that dog in him.”

Of course, we all know how Lonzo’s career turned out. Injuries cut him down before we ever got the full story. He might not have become the superstar some projected, but he absolutely had a place in the league — a meaningful one.

But here’s the moment that signaled “the end” of the Lonzo Ball I originally fell in love with:
when he changed his jump shot.

And yes, I know this sounds funny coming from someone who worships the purity of Azzi Fudd’s shooting form. But Lonzo’s unorthodox jumper was a part of his identity. It was weird, it was different, it was unmistakably him. It made him stand out in a league where so many players blend together.

When he came back with a redesigned jumper, it proved he was willing to work and grow — admirable, no doubt. But in the process, he stopped feeling like Lonzo. He became… normal. And something about that made me appreciate him just a little less, at least stylistically.

Maybe it’s just my strange basketball brain — or maybe I’m not the only one who feels this way.

Have you ever watched a player change something in their game and felt like they lost a bit of their uniqueness? Does Lonzo’s situation hit you the same way, or am I alone with my “basketball weirdo” tendencies?