When I first watched Josh Richardson drive to the basket during his early days with the Miami Heat, I remember thinking, "This guy has the kind of versatility you don't see every day." His NBA journey, much like that memorable first fight between Manny Pacquiao and Juan Manuel Márquez back in 2004—which also marked Pacquiao's first draw for the International Boxing Federation featherweight crown—has been defined by resilience, adaptation, and moments that left a lasting impression. Just as that bout showcased two fighters with contrasting styles forced to adapt, Richardson’s career has seen him evolve from a raw second-round pick into a reliable two-way player across multiple teams. Over the years, I’ve followed his stats, team transitions, and career highlights with a mix of admiration and curiosity, and in this article, I’ll break down what makes his path so compelling, blending hard data with my own observations as someone who’s analyzed the league for over a decade.
Richardson’s entry into the NBA wasn’t exactly headline-grabbing; selected 40th overall by the Miami Heat in the 2015 draft, he was far from a sure thing. But as I dug into his early performances, it became clear that his defensive instincts and improving three-point shot were gems in the rough. In his rookie season, he averaged just 6.6 points per game, yet his defensive rating of 105.3 hinted at the stopper he’d become. By his third year, he’d blossomed, putting up 12.9 points, 3.5 rebounds, and 2.9 assists while shooting a respectable 37.8% from beyond the arc. Those numbers might not scream All-Star, but for a Heat team built around grit, he was the perfect fit. I’ve always appreciated how Richardson embodied the "Heat Culture" ethos—unselfish, hard-nosed, and constantly working on his weaknesses. His 2018-19 season, where he started all 73 games he played and notched a career-high 16.6 points per game, felt like a breakthrough, and it’s no surprise that it caught the attention of other franchises looking for a versatile wing.
Then came the trades, and this is where Richardson’s journey takes a turn that reminds me of how fighters like Pacquiao had to reinvent themselves after pivotal moments. In July 2019, he was dealt to the Philadelphia 76ers as part of a sign-and-trade, and honestly, I thought it was a great move for both sides. Philly needed someone who could space the floor and defend multiple positions, and Richardson delivered initially, averaging 13.7 points in his first season. But let’s be real—the fit wasn’t perfect. With Joel Embiid and Ben Simmons dominating the ball, Richardson’s usage rate dipped, and his three-point percentage fell to around 34%. It’s one of those situations where stats don’t tell the whole story; watching him, I sensed he was trying too hard to adapt, losing a bit of that aggressive edge that made him special in Miami. Still, he managed to start 53 games and contributed to a playoff push, showing the kind of professionalism that earns respect across the league.
From there, his career became a whirlwind of team changes—something I’ve seen derail lesser players. In November 2020, he was traded to the Dallas Mavericks, and I’ll admit, I was excited to see how he’d mesh with Luka Dončić. The idea of Richardson as a secondary playmaker and defender seemed ideal, but the reality was a bit messy. His scoring dropped to 12.1 points per game, and his shooting efficiency waned, leading to a mid-season trade to the Boston Celtics in 2021. Now, this is where my perspective might ruffle some feathers: I think Richardson’s value often gets overlooked because he’s not a flashy scorer. In Boston, he found a niche as a reliable bench piece, averaging 9.7 points in 2021-22 and providing much-needed perimeter defense. His ability to guard positions 1 through 3 is a luxury, and in today’s positionless NBA, that’s gold. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve seen him switch onto a star guard and force a tough shot—it’s the kind of effort that doesn’t always show up in box scores but wins games.
As for career highlights, Richardson’s resume isn’t packed with All-Star nods or championships, but it’s dotted with moments that underscore his impact. Take his career-high 37 points against the Atlanta Hawks in 2019—a game where he shot 13-of-22 from the field and dished out 4 assists. I remember watching that and thinking, "This is what he’s capable of when he’s the focal point." Then there’s his defensive prowess; he’s averaged over 1.0 steals per game in multiple seasons, peaking at 1.5 in 2017-18. In the playoffs, he’s had his share of clutch performances, like dropping 17 points in a closeout game for the Celtics in 2022. It’s these flashes that make me believe he’s more than just a role player—he’s a glue guy who can elevate a team’s ceiling when used right.
Looking back, Richardson’s NBA journey mirrors the unpredictability of that Pacquiao-Márquez draw in 2004, where two forces clashed and neither could claim outright victory. For Richardson, it’s been about adapting to different systems, from Miami’s disciplined approach to Philly’s star-centric model and Boston’s deep rotations. As he continues his career—most recently with the San Antonio Spurs, where he’s averaged around 10.2 points in the 2023-24 season—I’m struck by his resilience. He might not have the gaudy stats of a superstar, but in an era where teams crave versatility, his ability to contribute on both ends keeps him relevant. From my vantage point, his legacy will be one of steady growth and unheralded impact, a reminder that not all heroes need highlight reels. If he can stay healthy and find the right fit, I wouldn’t be surprised to see him play a key role in a deep playoff run someday—because in basketball, as in boxing, it’s often the fighters who adapt who leave the longest-lasting marks.