Kam Jones Isn’t Broken — He Just Grew Up
For your consideration, Kam Jones.
It is crazy how quickly things can change .
In the final game of the regular season, Marquette appeared to be on course for a massive statement win. Senior night for Kameron Jones was living up to the expectations, and the Golden Eagles had the Jonnies on the ropes. A two-point lead, no shot clock—one stop would more than likely seal the victory.
And then Chase Ross fell to the floor, flailing for a foul call that would not be made.
At least there would still be overtime. In fact, Jones would help tie the game with 26.4 seconds remaining—a beautiful left-hand finish, completing the drive on Aaron Scott. Marquette would even secure the rebound, with 2.9 seconds left on the clock. However, a poke of doom from Kadary Richmond would lead to the magical moment for Zuby Ejiofor.
A 32-point senior night is put to bed: an absolute nightmare.
The season would continue to slip from the Golden Eagles. They would lose three of their final four games to a Pitino — a feat that feels like a trivia master’s magnum opus.
And it has silenced or even soured the impression of Kam Jones. He starts to look like the outdated toy — the one teams pass over in search of something shinier, flashier, newer. Now his draft stock is even more associated with the second round than the late first round.
Still, there is an argument to be made that there is something different about Jones. In a draft class that now feels desperate for an opportunistic guard, his case deserves another review—and maybe even a polish. More importantly, it deserves the recognition of finding success with Shaka Smart as a head coach.
Kam Jones is a 6’5” point guard, no longer the shooting guard or combo guard once recognized for the majority of his college career. No longer the wingman to Tyler Kolek, his senior year would see his game flourish into a much grander gesture — and one that Marquette desperately needed to be competitive.
His assists would more than double from 2.4 to 5.9 while not seeing a significant change in his turnover numbers — going from 1.4 to 1.9. Meanwhile, his scoring would remain fruitful — 19.2 a contest, second highest in the Big East behind Eric Dixon.
The start to the season would immediately excite — averaging 19.6 points in the first eight games, including victories over Maryland, Purdue, and Georgia. A blistering 64.6% shooting from the field, 44.1% from deep, and 6.4 assists a contest.
Being undefeated during that stretch helps too.
But then the fall came — slow at first, then all at once. The team would only record three wins against .500+ teams after the Christmas holiday, and the rest of college basketball would begin to find their form. Their field goal percentages would also crater during that span — only shooting 42.9% from the field and 32.5% from deep. For context, they were shooting 46.8% from the field in the 13 games prior and were 11-2 during that span.
The question then begins to emerge: was their opposition just weaker to start the season? But they did have a pretty challenging non-conference schedule — adding Wisconsin and Iowa State (loss) to the previously mentioned three.
And then the follow-up question: should you blame Kam Jones?
The story surrounding Jones is quite interesting with the reality that he did change his roles. Many will argue that he is a true shooting guard or a combo guard, but with his performance throughout the season, one could argue this was the transition he needed to take to really become the NBA prospect that could realistically translate to the NBA game.
Against Maryland, he would be hunting for the match-up against Derik Queen. And the duel was very much one-sided, with Jones able to get to the bucket on numerous occasions. There is the question of his touch — which would wipe away great attacking efforts of the basket. Over the course of the season, that touch would improve more and more. For every questionable lay-up missed, there is a creative finish that would soon follow.
But everyone knew him as a shooter. When the perimeter shooting began to not be there, the questions began to emerge. In his sophomore season, he would shoot 36.0% on 6.5 attempts. And in his junior year, he would shoot 40.6% on 6.5 attempts.
So where the f*** did this 31.1% on 6.1 attempts come from in his senior season?
Well, the shot selection would understandably change. Becoming the primary ball-handler did take away some of his opportunities on the wing and in catch-and-shoot situations. He would be forced to create his shot off the dribble more — which again, is a great growing point.
Arguably the biggest problem for Kam Jones — and maybe the blessing — was just how much the team relied on him as their primary offensive creator. He would play 33.8 minutes a night with the second-highest usage rate in the Big East. Marquette would have to ride his coattails, and he did. But the toil it took, along with him not necessarily being the 1% of 1% of athletes, was noticeable. His drives would feature a little bit more contact, the pace would be slowing down.
When a player is forced to reimagine themselves, especially as an NBA prospect, you begin to question what is in front of you. When the goth girl in school is seen in a sundress with her natural blonde hair for the first time, you begin to re-think your entire life’s meaning.
People really haven’t responded well to Jones’ transition to being a point guard — some still holding onto hope that it is all a ruse, the makeup will wipe away, and the blonde hair is actually just a wig.
His perimeter penetration would constantly fluster defenses, forcing collapses that were punished with a beautiful pass (but not always a finished basket). Previously mentioned were 1.9 turnovers a contest, but easily forgotten is just how much of a leap it was on the assist front. He went from recording the 20th most assists in the Big East in his junior season to 16th most in the country — more than doubling that assist count (200).
And he did it without the crutch of a good two-man game.
There’s a game-manager quality to this new offensive game, directing traffic in a way that only a seasoned veteran can do — which again, is pretty crazy given that he wasn’t necessarily this seasoned point guard.
However, the big red flag is the fact that he is 23.
While the basketball world is beginning to warm up to the idea of a senior as an NBA prospect, the league still whispers skepticism when that prospect doesn't come wrapped in elite athleticism or overwhelming measurables. Kam Jones, for all his polish and poise, does not jump off the page physically. He doesn’t wow you with vertical pop or an explosive first step. He is quick, not fast. Crafty, not electric. Efficient, not overpowering.
And so the draft narrative becomes not about who he is — but what he isn’t. He isn’t a 19-year-old freshman with “tools.” He isn’t a 6’7” point-forward with unicorn potential. He isn’t a lockdown defender with a seven-foot wingspan. The boxes that make front offices salivate? He doesn’t check them in capital letters.
But what he does check — and what should matter more in a league increasingly built on read-and-react guards — is experience, intelligence, and adaptability.
Kam Jones knows how to run an offense. He knows when to speed it up, when to settle it down. He understands angles, spacing, timing. He can shoot, even if the numbers dipped this year, and he can pass, even if the highlight reels are missing the flash. He’s not trying to be something he’s not. He's tried being everything Marquette needed.
The reality is he wore every hat they asked him to — lead scorer, primary initiator, defensive spark, calming veteran. He shouldered it all, and when the team staggered, he still stood upright. There is something to be said for that — especially in a draft class defined more by questions than answers.
So maybe he doesn't make the lottery war room light up. Maybe he slips into the 40s or 50s, or maybe his name doesn’t get called at all on draft night.
But that doesn’t mean he won’t play.
Because players like Kam Jones always find a way. Whether it’s carving out a role in Summer League, grinding through a two-way, or simply landing on the right team that needs a stable, smart, bucket-getting guard — the path is still open. The blink of an eye took away the clean ending, the storybook closer. But it didn’t erase what came before it.
Kam Jones may not be the shiny new toy anymore. But sometimes, the most dependable things aren’t. And if that doesn’t excite you — maybe you just don’t like Big East basketball.