Ziaire Williams was locked in.
Not even three minutes into the first quarter, his steal and ensuing slam put the Boston Celtics on notice. Then a 3-pointer over Celtics 7-1 center Luke Kornet — just inches from the Nets’ bench — confirmed what his teammates suspected.
The 6-9 forward kept applying pressure on that November night at Barclays Center. Long strides into the paint. Acrobatic finishes around the rim. He got to the line, snatched balls off the glass and hounded Jayson Tatum full court.
The Nets didn’t turn to Cam Thomas or Dennis Schröder when they needed a bucket. They kept finding Williams. And while the game got away from them late, the 23-year-old produced, playing freely and confidently again.
Just months after being cast out by the Memphis Grizzlies — who traded for the No. 10 pick in 2021 on draft night — Williams totaled 23 points, four off his career-high, and six rebounds against the defending NBA champions. Aggressive. Instinctive. Decisive. Head coach Jordi Fernandez couldn’t keep him off the court.
“F–k it, I’m just going to let it go. I’m just going to play free.”
That’s what Williams said he told himself. The conclusion he reached after two years of self-doubt.
Williams was in street clothes over Memphis’ final 21 games last season. Injuries kept him off the court in a doomed season for the Grizzlies, when he could’ve used those minutes for development. That spelled the end of his tenure in Memphis.
In Brooklyn, 12 games into a new beginning, his two-way impact was felt again.
“And when you see the results of that work,” Williams told the Daily News, “I feel like that’s what really helped me. Now I’m back and I’m actually doing it. I’m not thinking.”
There’s a reason scouts once drooled over Williams’ potential. He stood out on a stacked Sierra Canyon roster that featured four future pros in Brandon Boston Jr., Amari Bailey, Zaire Wade and Bronny James. He earned his share of national recognition, and with his five-star status, became Stanford’s highest-ranked recruit in the modern era.
He was scraggly, barely tipping the scales at 185 pounds soaking wet. But he was a highly skilled prospect, seemingly built in a lab, tailor-made for the NBA game. With a structurally textbook jumper, tremendous athleticism and positional versatility, Williams was touted as one of the more complete players in the 2020 recruiting class. He was projected to be a star in the league. Once he grew into his frame as he matured, he’d become the missing piece for a rising Grizzlies team already featuring Ja Morant, Desmond Bane, Jaren Jackson Jr. and Dillon Brooks.
At least, that was the vision.
But Williams’ first three seasons with the franchise were marred by injuries, inconsistency and tough breaks. He failed to meet expectations in Memphis and was traded to the Nets in July alongside a 2030 second-round pick, morphing from a surefire future star to a kid fighting just to stay in the league.
* * *
Today, Williams represents most players in the league. The superstars get all the money and shine. But the 450 is made up mostly of players like him, trying to carve out sustainable careers.
Players often talk about opportunity and situational fit being critical. The coach, the system, the roster makeup, the salaries, the timing, the business — it all has the ability to break the careers of most players. Not everyone lands in optimal settings. Sticking in the NBA as a rotation player requires incredible resilience.
Williams had to find his.
Perhaps all he needed was a clean slate. His new situation in Brooklyn forced him to adapt and change. He’s in the midst of his best season as a pro. He’s already shown more progress in Brooklyn than he did in three seasons with Memphis.
The path to success is rarely linear. In the NBA. In life. Things will go sideways. When they do, it’s OK to own past mistakes and embrace something new.
“I feel like the mental piece,” Williams explained, “of me just letting go and releasing everything in the past and just focusing on what’s to come is the biggest thing for me. And that’s the thing that took me super long to figure out. It’s like, who cares about how many shots you make or miss — that’s yesterday. … You just have to take it one day at a time. That’s really helped me this year.”
Ziaire Williams Sr. was a Marine. He made sure his son was familiar with discipline, structure and responsibility. Expectations in his household were clear. No room for deviation allowed.
So, whenever his parents asked something of him, he quickly fell in line. He scarcely needed punishment. His parents made sure he was raised headstrong because later in life he’d need it — if not as an athlete, then simply to survive as Black kid in northern Los Angeles County.
“Ziaire was such a well-rounded kid, we never had any issues with him,” said Williams’ mom, Marquita. “He did everything he was supposed to do.”
It perhaps explains why Nets coach Jordi Fernandez seems perfect for him.
A change in scenery, a no-nonsense head coach, and a renewed belief in self, have sparked a career season for Williams at both ends of the court. He’s playing more minutes, scoring more points, and grabbing more rebounds than ever before. His offensive rating is the best he’s had since his rookie season. And he leads the Nets in deflections, proof that he’s embraced his defensive-minded role.
“I’m not in his mind, but we all go through ups and downs,” Fernandez said. “All you can do is support a player at the end of the day. He’s the one who has to gain that confidence back… I don’t care if you score more or less. What I care about is your intentions and if you’re trying to do what we’re asking you to do. Then if the ball goes in or not, we really can’t control that, and so far he’s done a great job.”
Williams arrived in Brooklyn as an intriguing young talent, aligning with the Nets’ rebuild, but Fernandez wasn’t handing out favors. To earn minutes, Williams had to prove he could be a tenacious defender and an energizer. Active. Disruptive. Relentless. A style that demanded instinct over overthinking.
“I knew he was different from the first day,” Williams said of Fernandez. “He told everyone, I don’t give a f–k who you are, what you do, what you’ve done, we’re clearing this s–t out. We want good players, good role models, good chemistry guys, guys who are going to work hard and pick up full. I knew off rip he was one of them ones… It’s great to know you have a real one behind you.”
Challenge accepted.
Truth is, though, Williams was ready to accept because he learned from not meeting his last challenge. That story begins in Memphis.
* * *
On Jan. 9, 2022, Brooks was sidelined because of an ankle injury. Williams started 26 of the next 27 games on the wing in his place. He thrived in a simple role, excelling in transition alongside Morant. Memphis went 19-8, with Williams averaging 9.4 points and 2.5 rebounds.
Williams’ lobs with Morant became a highlight, sparking a six-game win streak. The Grizzlies led the league in fastbreak points at 17.7 per game in his rookie season — and made it look easy.
“His lobs with Ja, especially his first year, became like a signature play for us,” Memphis forward Santi Aldama said. “Peak excitement. He was always dunking and laughing. We went crazy every time it happened.”
When Brooks returned in mid-March, Williams shifted back to a reserve role but still logged 16.8 minutes across 10 playoff games. The Grizzlies wanted to expand his role entering Year 2, eyeing him as a playmaker. However, Summer League 2022 dashed those hopes. He struggled against pressure, averaging 4.3 turnovers, revealing he wasn’t the natural point-forward type Memphis was searching for. Then knee tendinitis sidelined him for the first 24 games of 2022-23, fueling an injury-prone label.
“It’s part of it,” Aldama said of injuries, “but it sucks seeing someone you’re so close to go through that. Someone who takes care of their body and puts the extra hours in.”
Williams showed up fly as a kite to Bane’s wedding last September, rocking a sand-colored Michael Kors suit with a tan and cream micro-floral tie. He was one of 210 guests at the extravaganza in Costa Palmas, a private beachfront resort community on the East Cape of Baja Sur, Mexico.
His most important accessory: a 1.75-liter bottle of 1800 Tequila.
“He’s the reason I didn’t make it to the dance floor very long,” Bane said of Williams. “It was gone.”
Teammates love Williams. He has a way of endearing himself to people. It’s why Morant jumped on a four-hour flight in August to show up for Williams’ basketball clinic in his hometown of Lancaster, Calif. Much to the surprise of Williams and the hundreds of young hoopers.
And Williams wasn’t even Morant’s teammate anymore.
The love he got in Memphis, the relationships he built, is what made his failure with the Grizzlies hit so hard.
“I wish I could’ve been better for them,” Williams said. “It’s tough. You grow up, you play well, you get to the league. Then suddenly the same shots that were going in aren’t going in anymore.”
After a 62-game rookie year, Williams played just 37 as a sophomore, logging 785 fewer minutes. His 3-point shooting tanked to 25.8%, confidence eroding. Hesitation crept in. A known death sentence in basketball.
In his third Grizzlies season, he appeared in 51 games, starting 14, but injuries persisted. A Grade 2 hip flexor and lower back muscle strain, suffered while setting a simple screen last March, underscored his fragility. Mentally, he unraveled.
Even with a year left on his rookie deal, the writing was already on the wall. If Williams were to develop into a reliable NBA player, it wouldn’t be in Memphis.
“I wasn’t myself, just so trapped mentally,” Williams said. “Definitely had great coaches and a great staff. There was nothing that they could’ve done. When I hit a wall, it was hard to get out of that slump. Mentally, I just didn’t feel free.”
Even after his confidence took a hit in Memphis, he still had it inside him to find his way back.
* * *
The Stanford campus was on strict lockdown because of the COVID-19 pandemic. The Cardinal couldn’t practice in their own gym and lived out of hotels.
“There was no structure and Ziaire is very structured,” his mother said. “You give him a schedule and he’s going to adhere to it, especially if it pertains to work and training. That’s where he flourishes most… Anything he needs to focus on or be mentally prepared for, he needs structure.”
That lack of structure spilled onto the court. His shooting was a concern. Turnovers were an issue. And he struggled to stay healthy. He missed six games in college because of a knee injury, which required a heavy brace when he did play.
But the hard part was just getting started. Stanford faced Washington in Seattle in one of his few games fans could attend. His mother flew in and had bad news to deliver. Williams’ uncle, Sullas Dorsey, died in an auto accident.
He was 34 years old. An aircraft engineer at Fort Irwin National Training Center, Dorsey worked two hours from home. He was hurrying home after a long overnight shift so his wife could leave for work herself. He fell asleep at the wheel.
Dorsey was a high-energy guy. Loud. Boisterous. Fun. He could not be missed when he attended games. He couldn’t help but he heard. And he loved his nephew. When Williams was eight, Uncle Dorsey would pick him up, take him to a nearby park, root for him from the sideline, and defend him like a German Shepherd if older kids got too rough.
“That was the first person Ziaire lost,” his mother said. “It was very, very challenging. It’s nice to know it was a peaceful transition. His young, short years on this earth were amazing. He traveled the world with work. He was just a standup, God-fearing man, and his loss is always missed daily.”
Part of why Williams is bouncing back with the Nets is because he’s become accustomed to rebounding. Perhaps that explains why he’s already grabbed more rebounds this season than any of his previous three.
When it comes to the psychological resolve needed to persevere through unfortunate setbacks, Williams had those qualities instilled in him as a kid. He still abides by them today.
Williams is no stranger to adversity. He understands loss. So, there’s a reason why his injuries in Memphis couldn’t keep him down for long. There’s a reason why his former teammates marveled at his ability to smile through the storm. Because it’s not about what happens to you. You’re defined by how you respond. And that’s what Williams seems to know best.
“That’s one of the things we strive for, just making the best of every situation,” Marquita Williams said. “And understanding that the sun does shine, and it will. We don’t know when, but in the meantime, let’s focus on the things that we can.”
* * *
The sun was shining last July. Jet lagged after a 12-hour flight to Tahiti, Williams didn’t have a signal on his phone while riding the Bora Bora Navette from the airport to the main island. When he finally connected to Wi-Fi, thousands of text messages and social media alerts said the same thing.
Just off the coast of paradise, during a family vacation, Williams learned he was traded. Zach Kleiman, the Grizzlies’ general manager, called Williams and thanked him for his service.
He knew it was coming. But still.
“I never experienced anything like that,” Williams said. “I felt numb. There was so much going on. When I’m overwhelmed, I just get away from everything…I threw my phone to the side and let it be.”
At least he got traded in Tahiti, of all places. He had an entire week to kick back, soak up some sun, enjoy his family and process what happened. It wasn’t all bad. He was heading to a franchise that had flowers waiting for him and his family at the hotel before he even spoke with Nets GM Sean Marks.
Fernandez didn’t know much about Williams’ checkered history in Memphis. Frankly, he didn’t seem to care. Both had a clean slate. It was like Williams got drafted a second time. Fernandez needed Williams to make peace with his past and embrace something new.
However, five games into their first season together, the past showed up.
The day before Halloween, Williams was back in Memphis for his first game against his former team. Reuniting with old friends. Facing old failures.
Taylor Jenkins was still running the same halfcourt sets, so he knew exactly what was coming. Late in the first quarter, Williams jumped in front of a Jake LaRavia pass and took off the other way. Long strides into the paint. An acrobatic finish at the rim. Williams hung on the rim after his two-hand dunk for good measure. He put the Grizzlies on notice.
“Y’all want to let me go?” Williams said, recalling his motivations that night. “Bet. I’ll make you regret that decision.”
Schröder led the Nets with 33 points that night, but Williams, in his triumphant return to FedExForum, contributed 17 points and four steals off the bench in a 119-106 win. Aggressive. Instinctive. Decisive. Playing freely and confidently. Sticking it to the team that cast him out.
That night helped set the tone for what’s been a bounce-back season for Williams in Brooklyn. Second chances are rare in the NBA. So, if he misses on his potential from here, that’s on him.
“It was one of those things where you’re happy for him, but at the same time pissed because he beat us,” Aldama said. “It was a bittersweet moment. But at the end of the day, if they’re going to beat us, might as well be with him going crazy.”