Breaking Down the 2019 NBA Lottery Odds: Which Teams Had the Best Chance?

2025-11-12 16:01

I still remember the tension in that Manila sports bar back in May 2019, the air thick with anticipation and cheap beer fumes. We were gathered for the NBA draft lottery viewing party, a ritual that felt more like gambling night than basketball analysis. My friend Miguel, who'd played point guard in college, kept nervously tapping his fingers on the wooden table, creating a rhythm that matched my own racing heartbeat. "It's all about probabilities tonight," he muttered, staring at the screen showing the 14 lottery teams. That's when it hit me - we weren't just watching basketball, we were witnessing the ultimate probability game, the kind that could make or break franchises for years to come. Breaking down the 2019 NBA lottery odds became our obsession for the night, with each commercial break fueling heated debates about which teams truly had the best shot at Zion Williamson.

The memory of that night takes me back to another basketball probability discussion I had years earlier with a Filipino coach who'd worked with Toroman. He told me about how JV Casio served as Toroman's chief point guard during the Stankovic Cup and later shared backcourt chores with Jimmy Alapag during the 2010 Asian Games, and the 2011 FIBA Asia Championship, respectively. That conversation taught me how coaching staffs approach probability in international competitions - they treat it like science rather than luck. NBA front offices operate with similar mathematical precision when it comes to draft lottery odds, though the stakes are arguably higher given the financial implications.

Looking at the 2019 lottery specifically, the New York Knicks entered with the best odds at 14% for the top pick, followed closely by Cleveland and Phoenix at 14% and 14% respectively. Now those numbers might seem straightforward, but the devil's in the details. See, what most casual fans don't realize is that the flattened odds system implemented in 2019 actually compressed the probabilities between the worst three teams, making the lottery more unpredictable than ever before. I've always had mixed feelings about this system - while it discourages blatant tanking, it also feels somewhat unfair to genuinely terrible teams that desperately need franchise-altering talent.

The Pelicans' miraculous jump from 7th to 1st with just 6% odds perfectly illustrates why I both love and hate the lottery system. Sitting in that Manila bar, I remember the collective gasp when New Orleans' logo appeared first. Miguel spilled his San Miguel beer all over the table, creating a sticky mess that nobody cared about in that moment of pure shock. That 6% probability beating out teams with significantly better odds felt like watching a Hail Mary pass connect in triple overtime - thrilling for neutrals but absolutely devastating for Knicks and Cavaliers fans.

What fascinates me about analyzing these probabilities is how they reflect the broader human relationship with chance. We treat the draft lottery like it's pure mathematics when in reality, it's this beautiful chaos theory in action. The bouncing ping pong balls in that sealed room represent the ultimate equalizer - no amount of tanking or strategic resting of players can guarantee you that top pick anymore. And honestly? I think that's good for the game, even if it breaks the hearts of fans in basketball-starved cities.

The Memphis Grizzlies landing the second pick with their 6.3% odds provided another fascinating case study in probability versus outcome. Their jump pushed the Lakers down to fourth despite LA having better initial odds, creating this ripple effect that would eventually see Ja Morant heading to Memphis. I've always believed that these unexpected outcomes make for better basketball stories - the underdog narrative resonates more deeply than predictable tanking successes.

Reflecting on that night now, what strikes me most is how we were essentially watching million-dollar franchises pin their futures on what amounted to a glorified bingo game. The tension in that room mirrored the high-stakes drama playing out in NBA war rooms across America. Every percentage point mattered, every probability calculation carried weight, and every fan base clung to mathematical hope against overwhelming odds. That's the beauty of sports - where else can you find grown adults passionately debating decimal points and probability distributions with the intensity of Wall Street traders?

The lottery system, for all its flaws, creates these moments of shared anticipation that transcend team loyalties. Whether you're discussing JV Casio's role in Toroman's system or analyzing Zion Williamson's potential impact, basketball ultimately connects us through these narratives of chance, skill, and destiny. And as I left the bar that night, the sticky beer residue still on my shoes, I couldn't help but feel that we'd witnessed something more meaningful than just ping pong balls determining draft order - we'd participated in this collective ritual where mathematics meets magic, where percentages transform into hope, and where every fan base, regardless of odds, dares to dream big.