Before the New Jersey Nets were Finalists. Before Jason Kidd brought Showtime to the Swamp. Before Continental Airlines Arena rocked in June—there was Kerry Kittles.
Drafted into NBA anonymity and organizational chaos, Kittles saw it all: the gritty beginnings, the Kobe previews, the MJ playoff lessons, and the growing pains of a franchise learning how to win. And through it all, the silky-smooth Villanova product did what he always did: stay composed, play smart, and get buckets.
“It was an interesting time to be a Net,” Kittles told me. “The organization was going through a transformation… I remember working out at this trucking company on Tonnele Avenue, thinking, ‘Wow… this is our practice facility?’”
That was mid-90s New Jersey basketball. Not a brand yet. Not quite relevant. A team trying to find itself in a league where power was consolidated in places like Chicago, Houston, and Los Angeles.
“We weren’t that good. Honestly, we really weren’t that good. But we started to become relevant,” Kittles said. “We could win on any given night.”
DRAFT DAY DEEP CUTS
Kittles was part of arguably the deepest NBA Draft in league history. The class of ’96 didn’t just change franchises—it changed the game.
“I didn’t know Kobe would be Kobe,” Kittles admitted. “I played against him in high school… I knew he was talented, but not that caliber. Same with Steve Nash—played him at the Maui Classic. But man… Jermaine O’Neal, Peja, Derek Fisher? That Draft was special.”
And while 1984 might have had the icons, 1996 brought the revolution.
“My Draft? I’d put it up against ANY draft. Even 2003.”
KOBE: THE LEGEND BEFORE THE LAKERS
Before the world knew him, Kerry did.
“We were working out with John Lucas and Mo Cheeks at St. Joe’s and this high school kid walks in—Kobe. And we’re like, ‘Oh snap! This boy can GO!’” Kittles remembered. “I’m playing him one-on-one like, ‘Bro, you’re ready for the League right now.’ He didn’t need me to tell him that, though. He knew.”
And years later, when they matched up as pros?
“He wasn’t a fluke from Day One.”
THOSE FINALS RUNS: NO FAIRYTALES, JUST FACTS
The early 2000s Nets were talented, athletic, and fast. But they ran headfirst into dynasties.
“We weren’t nervous against the Lakers,” Kittles said about the 2002 Finals. “We were just overpowered. Shaq was a handful. We had no answers for him. Kobe on the perimeter? Another problem. But what made them deadly was the supporting cast. Two of the league’s best players, perfectly complimented. And a Hall of Fame coach? We had no chance.”
A year later, it was San Antonio.
“We won two games. It should’ve gone seven,” he said. “But look who we played: Duncan, Parker, Ginóbili… Robinson on his way out. That team won five chips in the Shaq era. That’s how good they were.”
For Kittles and the Nets, those matchups weren’t failures. They were classroom sessions in basketball excellence.
“They were experiences for all of us.”
THE 70-WIN BULLS: NOTHING LIKE IT
Kerry Kittles got a front-row seat—and a defensive assignment—against the ’97–’98 Chicago Bulls. He doesn’t need Netflix to remind him.
“I can’t describe what it was like playing against that squad,” he said. “Jordan was even better than how they portrayed him in The Last Dance. Even better.”
The team? Flawless execution.
“Pippen, Kerr, Rodman, Harper… They were THAT good, man. It was like watching a machine.”
THE LEGACY
Kittles helped build the Nets’ foundation before the franchise became a Finals fixture. He witnessed legends before they became household names. And he measured himself against the greatest—and never backed down.
Today, his name may not always come up in conversations about that iconic ’96 class or those early-2000s Finals squads. But to those who remember? Kittles was class, consistency, and the quiet in the storm.
Because before the lights got bright in Jersey, Kerry Kittles was already shining.
