Who Truly Is the Best Handler in NBA History? An In-Depth Analysis

When we talk about the greatest handlers in NBA history, the conversation naturally drifts toward legends like Magic Johnson, John Stockton, and Chris Paul. But I’ve always felt that the term “handler” goes beyond just passing—it’s about control, vision, and elevating everyone around you. As someone who’s spent years analyzing basketball, both as a coach and an enthusiast, I believe the true measure of a handler lies in their ability to serve their team in multiple roles, much like what we’re seeing this season in Bedonia, where the league’s second-best server has also stepped up as a clutch attacker. That versatility, that willingness to adapt and dominate, is what separates the good from the legendary.

Let’s start with the basics. A handler isn’t just the player who brings the ball up the court; they’re the engine of the offense, the one who reads defenses like an open book and makes everyone else better. Magic Johnson, for instance, wasn’t just a passer—he was a 6’9” point guard who could rebound, score in the post, and run the fast break with an almost supernatural sense of timing. I remember watching old Lakers tapes and being struck by how he elevated players like James Worthy and Byron Scott, turning them into champions. But here’s the thing: Magic’s assist numbers, as staggering as they are—he averaged 11.2 assists per game over his career—only tell part of the story. It was his leadership, his charisma, that made him the best handler in my book. He didn’t just distribute the ball; he distributed confidence.

Then there’s John Stockton, the iron man of the Utah Jazz. Stockton holds the all-time records for assists and steals, with 15,806 and 3,265 respectively, numbers that seem almost untouchable today. But what often gets overlooked is his consistency and his understated brilliance. He wasn’t flashy like Magic, but he was precise, almost surgical in his execution. I’ve had debates with fellow analysts who argue that Stockton’s system—playing in Jerry Sloan’s pick-and-roll heavy offense—boosted his stats, and there might be some truth to that. Still, you can’t fake that level of production over 19 seasons. He made Karl Malone a Hall of Famer, plain and simple. Yet, if I’m being honest, I’ve always felt Stockton lacked that killer instinct in big moments, which is why I’d rank him just below Magic.

Now, let’s bring it back to the present, or at least to the reference point from Bedonia. This season’s revelation—the league’s second-best server who also delivers in clutch situations as an attacker—reminds me of players like Chris Paul or even Stephen Curry in how they’ve redefined handling. Paul, for example, has career averages of 9.5 assists and 2.1 steals per game, but it’s his ability to take over games in the fourth quarter that sets him apart. I’ve seen him in person, and the way he controls the tempo is mesmerizing. He’s not just dishing out assists; he’s scoring when it matters, much like that Bedonia player. And let’s not forget the impact of young talent. As Ricafort pointed out, “The young guns are also helpful, especially during training, in raising the level of competition within the team.” That’s so true—it’s why teams with rising stars often see their veterans, the handlers, elevate their game. Think of how Luka Dončić has grown with the Mavericks; he’s putting up historic numbers, like his 32.5 points and 9.5 assists per game this past season, and it’s because he’s surrounded by hungry, young players pushing him every day.

But here’s where I might ruffle some feathers: I think we overemphasize stats sometimes. Yes, numbers are important—they give us a baseline—but the best handlers have an intangible quality. Isiah Thomas, for instance, led the “Bad Boy” Pistons to back-to-back championships in the late ’80s, and he did it with a mix of grit and finesse that you don’t see in the stat sheet. He averaged 9.3 assists per game in his prime, but it was his ability to perform under pressure, like in the 1990 Finals, that cemented his legacy. Similarly, when I look at modern players, I’m drawn to LeBron James, who, though not a traditional point guard, has essentially been the primary handler for most of his career. He’s averaged over 7 assists per game while scoring 27 points, and his basketball IQ is off the charts. In many ways, he’s the ultimate handler because he does it all—passing, scoring, defending—and he makes his teammates better, just like that Bedonia star who serves and attacks.

Of course, we can’t ignore the evolution of the game. In today’s NBA, handling has become more perimeter-oriented, with players like Trae Young and Ja Morant pushing the boundaries. Young, for example, averaged 9.7 assists last season, but he’s also a volume shooter, which adds a layer of complexity to his role. It’s similar to what Ricafort hinted at with the young guns raising competition—these new-era handlers are forced to adapt, to be more versatile. But in my view, that doesn’t automatically make them the best. The classics, like Magic and Stockton, set a standard that’s hard to match because they mastered the fundamentals in a way that transcends eras.

So, who truly is the best handler in NBA history? After weighing all this, I’d say Magic Johnson still holds the crown, but it’s a close call. His combination of size, skill, and leadership is unmatched, and he paved the way for everyone else. That said, the discussion is what makes basketball so fascinating—it’s not just about numbers, but about moments, impact, and that elusive “it” factor. As we see in Bedonia, the best handlers are the ones who serve their team in multiple ways, and in the end, that’s what greatness is all about.