The Assists King Dethroned: Why Đurović Fails to See Miller-McIntyre's Value

When Vlado Đurović, the 77-year-old former head coach of Red Star Belgrade, opened his mouth to criticize Codi Miller-McIntyre on the Greek media outlet ARENASPORT, he wasn't simply offering a comment about a player. He was exposing a generational war in how point guards are evaluated in the EuroLeague. "He is not an elite point guard," Đurović said bluntly. "Everyone says Miller-McIntyre leads the league in assists... No, he was creating for himself." I have followed the EuroLeague for nearly three decades, from the days of sitting in front of an old TV in Saigon watching delayed broadcasts, to the honor of sitting in a Belgian television war room during the empty-arena season of 2026. I have never seen an assists king dethroned so quickly and so harshly. The numbers say Miller-McIntyre led the EuroLeague with 7.4 assists per game. But Đurović, who coached Red Star from 2026-88, doesn't look at numbers. He looks at something deeper — and perhaps, more antiquated. The context of this debate stems from the 2026 season, when both Miller-McIntyre and Sylvain Francisco wore the Baskonia jersey. This is a rare sight in European basketball: two point guards with completely opposite styles, playing for the same team, in the same system, under the same head coach. Miller-McIntyre, born in 2026 in the USA, is the pure facilitator — the one who puts teammates first, the one whose every touch is aimed at finding the teammate in the best position. Francisco, born in 2026 in France, is the scoring guard — the one who can create his own shot, the one whose every touch is a direct threat to the opponent's rim. After that season, Francisco moved to Panathinaikos, one of the wealthiest clubs in the EuroLeague, joining a roster that already featured stars like Kendrick Nunn and Kostas Sloukas. Miller-McIntyre joined Red Star Belgrade, a Serbian club with a glorious history but a much more modest budget compared to the Western European giants. And that's when Đurović spoke up. "Red Star should have finished fifth," Đurović declared on ARENASPORT. "If they had Francisco, Red Star would have finished fifth. And Zalgiris with Miller-McIntyre would have finished tenth." This is a counterfactual claim that no data can verify. But it reflects a classical school of basketball thinking: a point guard must be a dual threat — both scoring and facilitating. A guard who only passes, in Đurović's generation's view, is half of a complete guard. This is a perspective I have encountered many times in my career, from tactical meeting rooms in Belgrade to data analysis rooms in Barcelona. Let's look at the numbers objectively. Miller-McIntyre led the EuroLeague in assists with 7.4 per game, while Francisco ranked second with 6.5. The 0.9 assist-per-game gap is not small — it places Miller-McIntyre at number one in the entire league, a league considered the most grueling in the world after the NBA. In scoring, Francisco is superior with 14.1 points per game compared to Miller-McIntyre's 10.8. The 3.3-point-per-game gap is significant, especially in a context where EuroLeague games often end with scores of 75-80. But here's the crux: we don't have data on shooting efficiency (TS%), usage rate (USG%), or on/off metrics. There is no data to determine whether Miller-McIntyre was truly "creating for himself" as Đurović alleges, or whether Francisco was scoring on inefficient volume. In an era where everything can be measured, Đurović's judgment without any supporting data is questionable. I have spent years watching point guards in both the NBA and the EuroLeague. There is a fundamental difference between these two leagues. In the NBA, the spacing is wider, the pace is faster, and a scoring guard can easily find space to get his shot off. In the EuroLeague, the game is slower, more physical, and every point must be fought for. In that context, a guard who can create his own shot — like Francisco — has outsized value, especially in late-game situations when the clock is winding down and the opposing defense has locked up all passing lanes. But that doesn't mean Miller-McIntyre is worthless. Leading the EuroLeague in assists is not a trivial achievement. In a league where teams defend tightly and space is limited, creating 7.4 scoring opportunities for teammates per game is a special skill. Đurović may call it "creating for himself," but I have watched enough Miller-McIntyre games to know that he is genuinely looking for his teammates. I remember a Baskonia game last season when Miller-McIntyre delivered a no-look pass from the right wing through the opposing defense to place the ball in the hands of a teammate cutting to the rim. That was not a "creating for himself" play — that was a play only true point guards can make. Đurović's comment about "Butler and Carter" is also noteworthy. He said that Red Star's other guards would play better with a different point guard. This is a systemic argument — not just criticizing Miller-McIntyre individually, but questioning the fit between his playing style and the surrounding roster. If Red Star has multiple guards who need the ball to thrive, then a pure facilitator point guard may not be the optimal choice. This is a tactically sound argument, and I cannot deny its weight. But I also have to question Đurović's motives. He is a former Red Star coach, and he is speaking on a Greek media outlet — the home of Panathinaikos, Francisco's current team. Regional bias may be influencing his perspective. In European basketball, the Serbia-Greece rivalry runs deep, and a former Serbian coach praising a player on a Greek team while criticizing a player on his former club may not be entirely objective. I have witnessed too many similar cases in my career — old legends speaking with motives that aren't entirely pure. Look at Francisco's career trajectory. He started at Zalgiris Kaunas, a Lithuanian club with a tradition of developing excellent guards. Then moved to Villeurbanne ASVEL in France, and finally to Panathinaikos. Each step took him to a bigger, wealthier, more ambitious club. This shows his market value was steadily rising. In contrast, Miller-McIntyre, after leaving Baskonia, joined Red Star — a club with historical prestige but not the same financial investment as Panathinaikos. This difference may reflect financial reality more than a difference in talent. In European basketball, there is no salary cap like the NBA. Teams spend based on their budgets, and Red Star, despite being a historic club, cannot financially compete with giants like Panathinaikos, Real Madrid, or Fenerbahçe. If Francisco demanded a salary Red Star couldn't match, then the comparison of "should have had Francisco" is unfair to both Miller-McIntyre and Red Star's front office. This is a reality that Đurović, as a former coach, should understand well. The first stumble didn't make me fall; it taught me how to get up right in the middle of the track. I remember in 2026, when I mispronounced Dalilah Muhammad's name three times in one half at the World Athletics Championships in London. I held my face for three minutes after going off air. But instead of collapsing, I spent a full month reviewing every tape, writing pronunciation notes for over 200 athletes. From that, I learned that precision doesn't come from innate talent, but from meticulous attention to small details. Just like evaluating a point guard, we can't just look at points or assists — we have to look at how they operate an entire system. The empty-arena season was the moment I learned to hear the game instead of just seeing it. In 2026, when the pandemic emptied the stadiums, I was invited to be an analyst for a Belgian television station. At a Club Brugge match, I spent 6 hours analyzing 1,200 touches by Charles De Ketelaere, a 19-year-old talent at the time. My sensitivity told me he was a rare gem, despite not standing out physically. When the match ended 0-0, I convinced the director to replay three of De Ketelaere's touches for analysis. The same applies to Miller-McIntyre — if you only look at the scoreboard, you'll miss what he truly brings to a team. The stadium was empty, but tactics never spoke more clearly. During the empty-arena season, I realized that crowd noise often masks the most important signals on the court. Without fans, you can hear shoes squeaking on the hardwood, coaches shouting instructions, players communicating with each other. And it was in that stillness that I learned to read the game more accurately. Likewise, when we strip away the biases of the older generation, we can see more clearly the true value of a player like Miller-McIntyre. The counterintuitive point here is: Đurović may be right, but for the wrong reasons. He's right that Francisco might fit Red Star better than Miller-McIntyre — but not because Francisco is better, but because Red Star needs a different type of guard. He's wrong to dismiss Miller-McIntyre's assists-leading achievement as meaningless. Đurović's generation — coaches who came of age in the 80s and 90s — often evaluated point guards by their scoring ability. They grew up in the era of "dual-threat" guards like Michael Jordan, Magic Johnson, or in Europe, legends like Toni Kukoč. To them, a guard who can't score is an incomplete guard. But modern basketball has changed. Teams can now build offensive systems around a pure facilitator, with scorers at other positions. Look at how the Golden State Warriors operate with Draymond Green — a player who isn't a point guard but serves as the primary facilitator. Or how the Denver Nuggets built their system around Nikola Jokić, a facilitating center. In the EuroLeague, this trend is also happening. Teams like Real Madrid or Barcelona don't necessarily need a scoring point guard — they need someone to orchestrate the game's tempo, finding scorers in the best positions. Miller-McIntyre, with his elite court vision and passing, is exactly that type of guard. Đurović's failure to see this value may reflect an outdated tactical mindset, not a deficiency in Miller-McIntyre. This debate isn't really about Miller-McIntyre or Francisco. It's about how we evaluate a player's worth. In a league where every game can be decided by 3-5 points, both assists and scoring matter. But what matters more is fit within a system. A great point guard isn't the one with the highest stats, but the one who makes his team better. And that, no number can fully measure. Looking back at past seasons, I realize that the greatest point guards weren't the ones who scored the most or assisted the most — they were the ones who made their teammates play better. And that's something no stat sheet can fully capture.