Who Are the Best Point Guards in the NBA Right Now? An Expert Ranking

The rain was tapping a gentle rhythm against my office window, the kind of afternoon that makes you nostalgic. I was scrolling through old game highlights, the ones I’d archived from my first season covering the league a decade ago, when a text buzzed through from an old scout friend in Manila. It was a voice note, crackly with distance, and in it, he was laughing, recounting a story about a young prospect who kept forcing passes into impossible windows. His words, spoken in Tagalog but seared into my memory, were: “Sabi namin, ‘wag hanapin ang wala.’” We told him, don’t look for what isn’t there. It’s a deceptively simple piece of advice, one that echoes in my mind every time I sit down to evaluate talent, especially when tackling the perennial, passionate debate: who are the best point guards in the NBA right now?

That question is a rabbit hole, I’ll tell you. It’s not just about stats, though they form the skeleton of the argument. It’s about feel, about control, about the innate understanding of what is there on the court versus what you wish was there. My friend’s advice is the ultimate point guard philosophy. The great ones don’t chase phantom openings; they perceive the subtle shifts in defense, the half-step a defender is leaning the wrong way, and they exploit reality, not fantasy. This is what separates the elite from the merely very good. As I look at the landscape of the league today, a few names immediately rise to the top, not because of hype, but because they have mastered this very principle. They are the conductors, the architects, the players who make the game look effortless because they are so in tune with its rhythm.

At the very top of my personal list, and I know this isn’t always a unanimous choice, sits Stephen Curry. Now, I can already hear the counter-arguments: “He’s more of a shooter!” But that’s missing the forest for the trees. At 35 years old, Curry isn't just a shooter; he's the engine of the Golden State Warriors' universe. His gravity is a statistical reality—defenders consistently stay within 3.2 feet of him off-ball, a number that warps the entire geometry of the court for his teammates. He averages around 6.5 assists per game, a number that doesn't scream "passing savant" until you watch how those assists are created. They aren't forced. He doesn't hunt for the highlight-reel pass that isn't there. He draws two, sometimes three defenders, and makes the simple, devastating kick-out to an open shooter. That’s the essence of "wag hanapin ang wala." He creates what is there through his own threat.

Then there’s Luka Dončić. Goodness, Luka. He’s a maestro, a 6'7" bulldozer with the vision of a chess grandmaster. Watching him operate in the pick-and-roll for the Dallas Mavericks is like watching a composer at work. He averaged a staggering 8.9 assists last season, and what’s remarkable is his patience. He uses his body to shield the ball, he probes the defense, and he waits. He doesn’t rush. He lets the play develop in front of him, and only when the seam appears does he thread the needle with a pass that seems to defy physics. He’s the antithesis of the prospect my scout friend was talking about. Luka never looks for what isn’t there; he has a preternatural talent for seeing possibilities that are invisible to everyone else in the arena until the moment he makes them real.

I have to give a massive shout-out to Shai Gilgeous-Alexander in Oklahoma City. His ascent has been a joy to chronicle. He’s not as flashy as some of his peers, but my god, is he efficient. He led the league in drives per game last year, something like 24.1 per contest, and his ability to change pace is breathtaking. He lulls defenders to sleep, then explodes into the lane. And once he’s there, he doesn’t force a bad shot or a risky pass. He’s a master of the mid-range pull-up, but he’s also averaging over 6 assists a game by making the simple, correct read. He embodies that Filipino wisdom on the court. He takes what the defense gives him, and because he’s so talented, what they give him is usually two points or an open look for a teammate.

It’s impossible to have this conversation without mentioning the veterans who defined the position for a generation. Chris Paul, even at 38, is a professor of the game. His assist-to-turnover ratio is still among the league's best, a testament to his refusal to make a risky pass. He operates with a calculated, almost cold-blooded precision. And then there’s LeBron James, who, let's be honest, has been the primary point guard for every team he's been on for the last decade, regardless of his official position. His court vision is legendary, built on an encyclopedic knowledge of every opponent's tendencies. These guys are the old masters, the living proof that the point guard's primary job is to control the game's tempo and make everyone around them better by playing within the reality of the moment.

So, as the rain finally let up outside my window, leaving the city glistening, I thought about that voice note from across the Pacific. The best point guards in the NBA right now, from Curry’s gravitational genius to Luka’s orchestral dominance and SGA’s surgical precision, all share one core trait. They understand that the game isn’t about heroics for the sake of heroics. It’s about control. It’s about making the smart play, the simple play, the play that is actually available. They don’t waste possessions looking for what isn’t there. They excel by mastering what is. And that, in the end, is what makes this expert ranking so much more than just a list of names; it’s a celebration of basketball intelligence.