Title: The Edge of a Shot: Chaz Lanier’s Summer League Fight
The overhead lights buzzed faintly above Chaz Lanier as he laced up his shoes for Game 4 of the NBA Summer League. The numbers weren’t lying—he was averaging 12 points a game on 33% shooting from both the field and beyond the arc. Not bad. Not good. Just… middle. The kind of stat line that earns you a polite nod from the front office before they pass you down to the G-League squad.
But Lanier wasn’t just numbers. That’s what he kept telling himself. And that’s what the Pistons’ coaching staff was quietly debating in the suites above the court.
“He’s not lighting it up, no,” said one scout, flipping through a printout of shot charts. “But his defense? Top-tier. He’s fighting through screens like it’s February, not July.”
Through three games, Lanier had averaged a modest 1.3 steals and rarely got beat on switches. He looked comfortable guarding 1-through-3, with an off-ball IQ that belied his undrafted status. He closed out under control, never bit on pump fakes, and rotated like he’d been in the Pistons’ defensive schemes for years.
But still—12 points. 4-for-14 shooting in the latest game. A box score that didn’t turn heads, not when guys like Javonte Green and Marcus Bagley were putting up 20+ on efficient shooting.
Lanier sat at the edge of the bench during warmups, locked in. He’d hit just one three in his last eight attempts, but something inside told him the dam was about to break. He wasn’t forcing shots. He was letting the game come to him. The releases felt clean. It was just a matter of time.
Back in Game 2, he’d had a few flashes—a fastbreak three off a skip pass, a smooth step-back from the wing—but those sparks hadn’t turned into fire. The Pistons needed shooters, yes. But they needed consistency more.
Coach Duane Washington Jr. had spoken to Lanier the day before: “Chaz, defense is what’s keeping you in this room. But if you want to make noise, you’ve got to start hitting from deep. One streak could change everything.”
And he was right. The Summer League was a short window—a five-game microscope where every possession was weighed. Lanier had three games left. Three chances to prove he could shoot at the NBA level.
In practice that morning, he was automatic. Five straight corner threes. Seven from the top of the arc. His footwork looked sharper, his handle tighter. The staff noticed. Quiet nods from the assistants. No one said it, but everyone knew: he was one game away from tipping the scale either direction.
G-League squad? Probably, if the numbers stayed flat. But if that rhythm finally hit? If the threes started falling? He wouldn’t just survive. He’d stick.
Tonight, Lanier jogged onto the court with fire in his chest—not desperation, but belief. He had 12 points again, but this time on 4-for-14 shooting. The numbers didn’t scream promise, but the Pistons staff saw something more—stability. Composure. Smart cuts. Unshakable defense. A player who belonged, even if the shots hadn’t yet.
Three games remained. Three chapters left in this story.
And Chaz Lanier? He knew how to write his own ending.
