The Next Porzingis?
Dragan Bender Is the Prospect GMs Are Salivating Over
by Lars Anderson
Artwork by Sarah Mazzetti
May 19, 2016
TEL AVIV, Israel — He was just a boy, only 12 years old, when he stood on his driveway in the countryside of Bosnia and Herzegovina and hugged his mom one last time. It was the summer of 2009, and Dragan Bender was leaving home.
His eyes wet, his heart jackhammering with fear, the boy climbed into a car with his older brother, Ivan, and his dad, Rafo.
Peering out the window, the boy could see the wooden basketball backboard and metal rim his father had built for his sons four years earlier. The handcrafted hoop held the boy's eyes for one second, two, three—he knew it was the reason he was now waving goodbye to his mom, who was quietly sobbing on the front porch.
The brothers had spent countless hours playing one-on-one on this dusty driveway in the woods, driving hard to the rim and fouling each other harder. Ivan, two years older, was bigger and stronger than his brother, so the boy began working on his outside shot.
Even if Ivan wasn't around, he would unspool jumper after jumper after jumper. Many nights, his parents would look outside and see the boy alone in the dark, a solitary figure illuminated by the moonlight, shooting a worn-out ball and dreaming big hoop dreams.
Now pulling out of the driveway, the car motored through the summer afternoon, the boy in the backseat, tears sliding down his cheeks like raindrops. But as the miles clicked off the odometer—and as his big brother assured him everything would be OK, that one day he would look back at this moment as the defining hour in his life—the boy's fright began to melt away.
"I knew I was going to have a chance to do something that very few kids in my country have an opportunity to do," Dragan said. "It was almost like winning the lottery. The sadness started to go away when I started to realize how lucky I was."
The car continued to roll over the forested hills and hollows of eastern Bosnia and Herzegovina, speeding toward neighboring Croatia. The boy looked out at the world he was leaving behind, a sense of panic mixing with excitement—the cocktail of chance-taking—as he neared his new home in a new country.
And so began the basketball odyssey of Dragan Bender, one of the most tantalizing prospects in this summer's NBA draft.
The boy is a young man now.
It's a sparkling spring evening in Tel Aviv—a cool breeze blows off the Mediterranean Sea; the orange and lemon trees fragrance the air—and Dragan Bender is walking down a city street. He possesses an athlete's easy, graceful gait.
At 7'1" and 225 pounds, Bender is fence-post thin, even though he attacks every meal as if it were his last. This afternoon one of his buddies gave him a box of Napolitanke chocolates, a Croatian delight, causing Bender to beam like a kid who had just blown out his birthday candles. "This is the best gift I've ever got!" he said, tearing the box open.
Bender continues to stroll through the golden glow of the Mediterranean dusk. People on the street stare and point at Bender—he's become a mini-celebrity in Tel Aviv, often being stopped for selfie requests—until he slips through a door and enters Nokia Arena, home of the Maccabi Tel Aviv basketball team.
In the locker room, Dragan pulls on his yellow Maccabi practice uniform, laces up his size-18 high-tops and steps onto the court. At 18, Bender is the youngest player on Maccabi, a powerhouse team in the Euroleague. He's also the reason why flocks of NBA general managers and scouts have flown 10 time zones to the Middle East to simply watch this team practice.
Tonight Mitch Kupchak, general manager of the Lakers, sits in the otherwise empty stands, his eyes locked onto Bender. Down on the court, the players warm up. In the layup line every forward and center on Maccabi dunks the ball over and over—except Bender, who on his trips to the rim lays the ball in with an oh-so-gentle finger roll.
"Top players from Croatia and Bosnia and Herzegovina play basketball to express beauty," said Maurizio Balducci, Bender's Italy-based agent, who is also watching the practice. "This is how [the late] Drazen Petrovic played and Toni Kukoc played. Dragan is very much from this culture. And dunking in a layup line when you are 7'1" is not an expression of beauty."
A scrimmage begins. In one sequence Bender, playing power forward, blocks a shot, grabs the rebound, leads a fast break and then dishes the ball to a teammate for an easy layup. A minute later, Bender drills a 25-footer from the corner. On the next possession, he swishes a three-pointer from beyond the top of the key.
After a short break, Bender beats the defense down the floor, gracefully catches a 30-foot outlet pass and lays the ball in. A minute later, he hits another long-range bomb. A few Lakers scouts, sitting next to Kupchak, scribble words feverishly in notebooks. Kupchak rubs his right forefinger on his lips, like a man beholding a complex piece of art.
Midway through practice, Kupchak speaks to a Maccabi staff member. "The kid can really run," Kupchak said. "How high do you think he will go?"
"He's worth a top-three pick," the staffer said. "He's that special."
According to NBA scouts, Bender is indeed on the short list of candidates to be a top-three pick in the draft on June 23, along with the likes of forward Ben Simmons of LSU and forward Brandon Ingram of Duke.
Bender's recent sample size is small—he played in only 10 games with Maccabi this season in the Euroleague and averaged 8.6 minutes per game and 1.5 points—but it's worth remembering he's younger than most NCAA freshmen and has been playing and practicing against professionals in their 20s and 30s.
"It's not uncommon for someone Dragan's age to not get playing time on upper-level teams in the Euroleague," an NBA scout said. "The coaches in that league are under pressure to win every night, and it takes time to work an 18-year-old into a rotation of seasoned guys who are NBA-backup-quality players. Trust me, there is nothing wrong with Dragan."
It's not unprecedented for young international players with little experience to be selected in the first round of the draft. Mario Hezonja, for example, was picked fifth overall by the Magic in 2015 after he started only two games for Barcelona of the Euroleague in '14. But it is rare.
At times in his brief career Bender has flashed brilliantly on the court, leaving scouts in wide-eyed wonder. In one game at a FIBA junior tournament in Turkey in 2014, for instance, he scored 34 points, had 14 rebounds, two assists and zero turnovers in a game against players who were one and two years older than him.
Then in February 2015 he was named the MVP of the Basketball Without Boarders Global Camp in New York—a invitation-only camp organized by the NBA—after a ruthlessly dominating weekend filled with blocked shots, long-distance threes and rim-rattling finishes.
"Dragan is more advanced at his age than Kristaps Porzingis was when he was 18," a longtime NBA scout said. "Dragan has great length, and he can block shots. He can run the floor, and his ability to finish at the rim is exceptional. His shot is getting better all the time. On defense, he has the ability to guard the 4 or the 5. He needs to gain weight and strength, but his potential is jaw-dropping."
An hour after practice, Dragan walks out of the arena and into the Tel Aviv night. The seaside city is known as the party capital of the Middle East—the lasers and beats at the downtown clubs go until dawn—but Dragan has never been lured by Tel Aviv's temptations and forbidden fruits. He may only be 18, but he's an old 18.
"I've seen a lot and experienced a lot in my life," he said. "Plus, I'm too busy to go out."
Dragan unfolds himself into his small four-door sedan and cruises along a street close to the Mediterranean. He points to a stretch of white sand beach where he runs many mornings.
He drives past one of the tiny gyms in Tel Aviv where he practices one-on-one with his personal coach, Mladen Sestan, who has tutored Bender for the last six years.
Six days a week, the two will find an empty court in the city, and then Sestan, a longtime basketball coach in Croatia, will help Dragan refine his stroke, shore up his post defense, expand his back-to-the-basket offensive game and offer counsel on life in general.
Sestan will move to the United States with Bender when he begins his NBA career, which means Dragan will have a posse totaling all of one when he enters the league.
Behind the wheel of his car, hurtling through the darkness, Dragan sees his high-rise apartment building in the distance, a glittering tower outlined against the black Middle Eastern sky. Most nights, before crawling into bed, Dragan flips open his laptop to catch up on homework assignments that have been emailed to him by his high school teacher in Croatia.
Dragan is fascinated by military history—the subject of World War II especially lights a fire in his mind—and he is on track to earn the equivalent of a U.S. high school diploma this summer.
"It's important to finish school because my parents always taught me to finish what you start," Dragan said. "They also taught me the value of hard work. I saw them struggle. I know struggle."
Dragan's father—who is 6'5" and played volleyball in high school—rose at 5 every morning for his job as an electrician on the railroads in Bosnia-Herzegovina. His mother, Bernada, who is 6'0", picked fruits and vegetables in local fields.
Dragan's parents, who until recently had never before been on a plane, wanted what all fathers and mothers crave for their children: a better life.
That was why in August 2009 the Bender brothers—Ivan, then 14 and 6'4," and Dragan, then 12 and 6'1"—stuffed their clothes and their hopes into two suitcases and journeyed far, far from home.
The legend couldn't take his eyes off the boys. It was as if he were seeing two younger versions of himself.
In June 2009, Nikola Vujcic traveled to a run-down gym in Capljina, Bosnia-Herzegovina, to check out two young brothers who he had heard were lighting up a youth league in a remote part of the country. As soon as he entered, all heads turned.
A 6'11" forward with a soft shooting touch, Vujcic was a five-time All-Euroleague player between 2003 and 2007. He was also something of a hoops deity in the Balkans; he helped Maccabi Tel Aviv capture two Euroleague championships.
In 2005, Vujcic opened a basketball academy in Split, Croatia. It was a boarding school for kids who displayed potential on the hardwood. One of the coaches at the academy—Mladen Sestan—heard from a friend about the Bender boys. He tipped off Vujcic.
"When I saw Dragan play for the first time, he was tall and very coordinated. He was playing point guard," Vujcic said. "Ivan was the same way: tall and coordinated and athletic. I met with their parents. They were poor and wanted to give their kids a chance to make a better life. So the parents and the boys all agreed to come to the academy."
After a five-hour drive from their home in rural Bosnia-Herzegovina, Rafo Bender dropped off his sons at a small house in Split. "Think before you act," Rafo told Ivan and Dragan, hugging them tightly. "We are so proud of you."
Then, in an eye-blink, he was gone. The Bender brothers lived in a house with two other teenagers enrolled in the academy. A middle-aged woman also had a room in the house, and she often cooked hot meals, but the boys were in charge of their own laundry and keeping the place clean.
"Basically," Vujcic said, smiling, "they had to do the things that would get them ready to be married."
Most mornings began at 6:30 on the court with drills and one-on-one coaching. The Bender boys would practice for about two hours, then attend school for about six hours, and then return to the gym at 8 p.m. for a two-hour night practice. The brothers tried to be in bed by 11.
Dragan, the youngest at the academy, struggled with homesickness. "You have to fight through your fears," Vujcic told him. "Nothing in life is easy."