News writer, Interviewer
When you think of a lottery, you think of Powerball, Mega Millions, or your state's daily drawings. But the lottery isn't limited to scratch-offs and jackpot prizes. The NBA has been running its own version since 1985, and it might sound familiar: ping-pong balls, weighted odds, and all.
Here's why it exists, how it got here, and where it's headed.
Why does the NBA need a lottery?
The NBA Draft is the league's talent pipeline. Every year, the worst-performing teams get the highest picks. In theory, this process gives them the best shot at selecting a franchise-altering player. The problem is that teams figured out they could game the system. Lose enough games, land a top pick, rebuild fast. That strategy is called tanking. The lottery was designed to break that incentive.
But it hasn't always worked.
Territorial picks and coin flips
In the league's early years, the draft wasn't about record or ranking. Teams could forfeit their first-round pick to select a player from their local area. These were called territorial picks.
In 1956, the Boston Celtics used one to select Tom Heinsohn from Holy Cross in Worcester, Massachusetts. Heinsohn averaged 18.6 points and 8.8 rebounds per game and helped Boston win eight championships in nine years.
The territorial system ended in 1966. In its place: a coin flip between the last-place teams in each division. The loser of the flip picked first.
It sounds simple, but it wasn't clean.
In 1979, the Chicago Bulls called heads, and the coin landed tails. The first pick went to the New Orleans Jazz, but the Jazz owed the Los Angeles Lakers three draft picks as compensation for signing free agent Gail Goodrich. One of those picks became the No. 1 selection.
That pick became Magic Johnson.
The Lakers won the championship the following season. The Jazz moved to Utah.
1985: The first lottery
By 1985, the league needed a better solution. The coin flip was gone. In its place: a true lottery, open to all seven non-playoff teams, each with an equal shot at the No. 1 pick.
That year's jackpot was Patrick Ewing, the 7-foot center out of Georgetown. Every team had the same odds. The New York Knicks won.
General manager Dave DeBusschere rose from his seat with a fist pump. Ewing spent 15 seasons in New York, leading the Knicks to the playoffs 13 times.
Odds that reflect the record
Equal odds created a different problem. A team with the second-worst record had the same shot as a team just outside the playoffs. There was still no real penalty for losing more.
In 1990, the NBA introduced a weighted lottery. The team with the worst record got the most combinations. The team with the best record among non-playoff teams got the fewest.
The system didn't prevent surprises. In 1993, the Orlando Magic held just one combination out of 66 (roughly a 1.5% chance at the top pick). They won it anyway and selected Michigan forward Chris Webber, then traded him to Golden State for the rights to Memphis guard Penny Hardaway and three future picks.
Inside the lottery room
Every spring, the drama plays out in a conference room in Secaucus, New Jersey. Fourteen ping-pong balls. One thousand possible combinations. And a room full of team representatives who can't leave until the broadcast is over.
The balls are certified, weighed, and numbered. They tumble for 20 seconds. Then the first drops. Then, a second, every ten seconds, until four balls sit on the table.
At the 2005 lottery, the Milwaukee Bucks held just 63 of the available 1,000 combinations, a 6.3% chance. The combination that surfaced: 5, 7, 10, 14.
Milwaukee…and the room erupted.
The Bucks had beaten the odds. Two hours later, their general manager learned the news on live television, visibly stunned.
Atlanta claimed the second pick, and Portland, the third.
Reform is coming
The lottery has never stopped evolving. As recently as this month, the NBA has been pushing for its most significant overhaul in decades.
The proposal gaining the most traction would expand the lottery from 14 to 18 teams and draw for each of the 18 picks, not just the top four. The ten teams that miss the playoffs entirely would each hold an 8% chance at the No. 1 pick. The eight Play-In teams would hold roughly 2.5% each.
Separately, at least one general manager has proposed reducing the odds for the three worst teams relative to the teams just above them. Commissioner Adam Silver reportedly responded with enthusiasm.
The logic: give the worst teams an active reason to compete late in the season. Even a small reduction in odds gives struggling franchises a reason not to shut down their best players.
The counterargument is just as direct. The draft exists as a balancing mechanism. Bad teams get good picks, so they don't stay bad. Punishing the worst teams could make it harder for organically bad franchises to rebuild, which creates a different kind of dysfunction.
A final vote is expected at the May 28 board of governors meeting, after this year's lottery on May 10.
The lottery's real purpose
Whether the NBA tweaks the odds by a percentage point or expands the pool by four teams, the core question remains the same: What is the lottery actually for?
If it's a tool to discourage losing, then reducing the worst teams' odds makes sense. If it's a mechanism to balance talent across the league, then punishing the most desperate franchises works against the point.
Powerball players pick numbers hoping to change their lives overnight. Mega Millions jackpots roll over for weeks before someone finally hits. State lotteries sell the dream of a lucky break. The NBA Draft Lottery isn't so different. Franchises buy in with losing records instead of tickets, and the prize isn't cash. It's a generational talent who could flip a franchise's fortunes for a decade.
The ping-pong balls don't care either way. They just bounce.
