I’ve been around basketball long enough to know that talent isn’t just about what you see—it’s about who’s doing the seeing. Growing up, I watched the game through a different lens, not just as a player, but as someone obsessed with evaluation. I studied scouting reports, draft boards, and analytics models like scripture. But the more I learned, the more I noticed something unsettling: the people deciding who’s “next” rarely looked like the players they were evaluating.

Running the show

Let’s be real—basketball is a predominantly Black sport. But when you look behind the curtain at who’s shaping the narrative, who’s stamping credibility, and who’s making the calls on talent, it’s disproportionately white. Especially in scouting.

Sure, college basketball has made strides. Assistant coaches—who do most of the actual evaluating—are nearly split down the middle: 47.5% Black, 46.4% white. But the head coaches, the ones with final say? Still mostly white. And when it comes to NBA scouts and front office evaluators, the diversity thins out even more.

I remember reading a quote from Khalid Green, a scout for the Brooklyn Nets. He said, “Diversity among scouts and front office staff is still limited”. That stuck with me. Because even though we’ve seen more Black representation in coaching and executive roles, the scouting world still feels like a closed circle—white, middle-aged men with decades of credibility built into their name.

And I’m not here to discredit their eyes for talent. Some of them are legends. But I am saying this: more representation could change the game. Literally.

We only count it when they get it right

Scouting is a face-value business. Early on, people only respect your word if you prove it. But once you’ve built that credibility, your word becomes gospel. You say a player’s got it? Everyone listens. You say he doesn’t? That kid might never get a shot. It’s wild how much power a scout holds—and how little accountability comes with it. If a player doesn’t pan out, they just move on to the next one. No consequences. No reflection.

But what if we had more minority voices in that room? What if the definition of “talent” wasn’t so narrow? Because let’s be honest—scouting isn’t just about who can run fast, jump high, or shoot the ball. It’s about understanding a player’s story, their context, their intangibles. And sometimes, that understanding comes from shared experience.

We see what we want!

I’ve seen too many players get overlooked because they didn’t fit the mold. Because they weren’t hyped enough. Because they didn’t have someone in their corner who saw them for who they really were. In youth sports, especially, there’s so much blind praise, so much riding coattails, just for the hope that a player makes it and validates a scout’s analytics.

That’s not evaluation. That’s gambling.

We need more scouts who see beyond the surface. Who knows what it’s like to be doubted, and what it means to prove people wrong. We need more Black scouts. More Latino scouts. More women. More people who can add layers to the picture of what greatness looks like.

Because when you change who’s doing the evaluating, you change who gets evaluated fairly.

And maybe—just maybe—we stop letting good and great talent fall through the cracks.