LAKERS NEWS: “Purple and Gold Eyes Sam Hauser”
by ChatGPT
The murmurs started in late July, behind closed doors in El Segundo.
Rob Pelinka sat at the head of a long oak table, Lakers execs around him, free agency war room scattered with names, analytics sheets, and caffeine. They had missed on a few big targets. The market was drying up. But then Joey Buss slid a scouting report across the table.
“Hauser,” he said. “If Boston doesn’t lock him in, we pounce.”
Sam Hauser. Undrafted. Overlooked. But deadly.
The Lakers had seen it firsthand. February 1st, 2025 — Celtics vs Lakers at TD Garden. LeBron sat that one out. Hauser didn’t. The 6’7″ sniper hit seven threes, most of them from orbit, none of them lucky. He floated around screens, his release mechanical, nearly robotic. Austin Reaves had chased him for most of the second half and came off the floor shaking his head.
“He doesn’t blink,” Reaves told the media after the game. “You think you’ve closed out, and he’s already loading another one.”
Boston, loaded with talent, had Hauser on a modest deal. But things were changing. Jayson Tatum’s supermax had kicked in. Jaylen Brown’s was already eating up space. Derrick White had just re-signed. Hauser, eligible for an extension, had quietly voiced that he wanted a larger role — not just a catch-and-shoot guy in a crowded system.
The Lakers had shooters. But they didn’t have that shooter.
Hauser had shot 43.1% from deep in 2024–25. Not on low volume — he let it fly over 5 times a game. And his off-ball movement? It reminded some scouts of prime Klay Thompson. He didn’t need rhythm. Just space. An inch was a mile.
Darvin Ham loved the idea. “Put him next to AD and Bron? That’s murder,” he said during an internal staff call. “Let him camp in the corners or curl around D’Lo’s screens? We’re talking gravity weapon.”
And the intangibles? Hauser was low-maintenance, defensive-minded, and cold-blooded in big moments. In the 2025 East Semis, he’d dropped 19 in Game 4 against Miami — most of them in a third-quarter burst that flipped the game. He never celebrated. Just jogged back on defense like a machine built for buckets.
The only question was: Would Boston let him go?
Pelinka’s play was simple — float interest. Offer a future second. Maybe Max Christie. Let Boston feel the squeeze. If the Celtics blinked, if they prioritized other extensions, the Lakers would be waiting.
LeBron, informed of the plan, approved. “Smart kid,” he said. “Shooter like that doesn’t grow on trees. We get him? Floor spacing just went nuclear.”
August 15th, the report hit the feeds: “Lakers have interest in Sam Hauser — monitoring Boston’s next move.”
Hauser’s camp took notice. Quietly, they liked the fit. The chance to play beside legends. To launch eight threes a night under the lights of crypto.com Arena.
It wasn’t done. Not yet.
But in a league where inches matter, and spacing decides rings — the Lakers saw Hauser as more than a role player.
They saw a sniper. A system-shifter.
And they were ready to aim.
