HAD seen enough.
From nearly 100 feet away and with his knees and ankles wrapped in ice, Stewart had watched from the visiting bench as teammate and big man went nose-to-nose following a hard foul under the basket.
After a scrum developed, players and coaches from both teams seemed to ease tensions — only for Hornets forward to break away and rush toward Duren near half court. That’s when Beef Stew intervened.
“JD and Stew consider themselves brothers,” Pistons coach J.B. Bickerstaff said that night. “Human instinct tells him to protect his little brother. I hate it for Stew because of the things that are gonna follow.”
The scene from that Feb. 9 game inside Charlotte’s Spectrum Center — the ice melting off Stewart’s frame as he raced toward the scorer’s table to confront Bridges — has become another indelible image for Detroit’s 24-year-old enforcer, rim protector and the heart and soul of a surprise No. 1 seed that perhaps shouldn’t be considered one any longer.
“I always knew once the wins came,” Stewart told ESPN, “that people were gonna see I play a big part in it.”
Intimidation, blocked dunks and, yes, even altercations such as the one in Charlotte that — he’ll serve his sixth game Friday against the (7 p.m. ET, ESPN) — are all part of the Isaiah Stewart package.
But since he entered the league in 2020, the 6-foot-8 big man has become one of the NBA’s most-feared defenders and, as the longest-tenured Piston, a symbol of the franchise’s painful road back to contention. And whose game bears resemblance to a Pistons legend who once patrolled the paint in similar fashion.
THE PICTURES ADORN the walls inside Detroit’s Little Caesars Arena and the nearby Pistons Performance Center, not far from downtown.
And whether it’s holding one of his Defensive Player of the Year awards or cradling the Larry O’Brien trophy he helped the franchise capture in 2004, ‘s image has become part of Detroit lore.
The Hall of Famer’s 17-year career can be aptly defined by his nine seasons in Detroit, where he dominated as one of the top defenders in the early 2000s. His four-time DPOY status can only be matched by fellow Hall of Famer and center .
The comparisons between Wallace and Stewart are natural, irresistible even. “I definitely see it,” Wallace told ESPN.
Both are underestimated, undersized big men who played well above their listed height. Both carry a clear edge in every aspect of their games. And both happen to play large roles in turnarounds for a city uniquely equipped to appreciate them.
“He paved the way for us undersized guys,” Stewart said. “I’m trying to live up to that and put my name somewhere positive in this organization.”
From 2000-01 to 2005-06, Wallace led the NBA in rebounding twice and blocks once, averaging 12.9 rebounds, 2.8 blocks and 1.6 steals. He would routinely compare his hands to those of a boxer, saying they’re “top 10 in the world.” Even now, he can boast his plus-minus stats.
Stewart knows his defensive stats and tracks how well other players around the league are doing in similar categories. Not necessarily for his ego, but to ensure he’s doing everything to keep the Pistons’ identity as the league’s No. 2 unit intact. “I’m the best defensive player in the league,” Stewart said.
The numbers seem to back him. Among players with at least 150 attempts defended, Stewart leads the league with a 42.7% field goal percentage allowed at the rim. He’s eighth in the league with 1.7 blocks and contests 9.3 shots per game, second in the league among players 6-10 or shorter, behind , whose played only 20 games.
And although you wouldn’t call Stewart a floor spacer, he is one of six players with at least 75 blocks and 30 3-pointers this season. He shoots a respectable 34% from 3-point range, a must in today’s league, but it’s a far different paradigm than Wallace, who seldom ventured beyond the arc when he played.
Today, Wallace tries to stay away from the game, although he keeps a close watch. He doesn’t like the basketball discourse where previous generations routinely criticize modern stars. “You gotta take some time away from the game and allow the game to evolve,” he said.
But Wallace loves to watch Stewart carrying on the gritty big man tradition in Detroit. And Stewart, for his part, cherishes the example Wallace set in the early 2000s.
The big men’s bond is unspoken but telling. Stewart, coming to the free throw line in the second quarter of a Jan. 15 game against the , spotted the 6-9 Wallace sitting courtside. The two made eye contact, and between deep breaths, Stewart pounded his chest twice. Wallace nodded in receipt.
Seeing the respectful exchange, a source who knows Wallace well summed it up:
“Ben looks at Stewart like a proud father.”
YEARS OF FUTILITY chasing the eighth seed gave way to a full rebuild in the summer of 2020, with Detroit’s then-general manager Troy Weaver selecting three first-round picks in a draft he hoped would establish a real culture. Second of those picks: Stewart at No. 16.
The beginnings were humble, and Stewart had to endure the brunt of a rebuild six years in the making. As a rookie, Stewart was slotted behind veterans Blake Griffin and , and as the fourth-youngest rookie in the league, opportunities were few and far between. Stewart didn’t see the court during Detroit’s first two games. Wallace was a throw-in from the Grant Hill trade in 2000 after showing signs in four seasons with the and .
Before any real estate could be won on the floor for either, it had to be established in physical, fierce practices.
“I didn’t treat you like my teammate in practice. I treated you and looked at you like you were competition,” Stewart said. “If you wanna duke it up, we can duke it up.
“It was nasty. Pushing guys, making guys uncomfortable, doing anything I can so I can stand out to the coaching staff so they could say, ‘Man, we need to get this guy on the floor.'”
Stewart and Griffin were especially competitive, with then-coach Dwane Casey calling them “brahman bulls.”
“I remember one day they locked up and I’m going, ‘Lord have mercy, who’s gonna break these two up?’ Going against a great player like that every day really helped develop his game, how to be physical,” said Casey, Stewart’s coach his first three seasons who is now in the Pistons’ front office.
“He earned every minute he got.”
It extended to the floor, where a reputation formed. By early that next season, it was solidified, when, after taking an inadvertent elbow to the face from forward , an enraged and bloody Stewart went after the face of the NBA. After multiple attempts, security, teammates and coaches eventually got Stewart into the locker room.
“Any grown man would’ve reacted, initially, the way Stew did,” Casey said. “The problem Stew had — and he knows this — was going back the second and third time.”
Some of the conversations that followed were coded in language. Almost all of them felt uncomfortable. James claimed days later that it was an inadvertent hit, plus he had years of equity with the public. Stewart, then 21, had to hear the noise.
“My second year in the league, seeing how people look at me differently, calling me certain [names] and labeling me. … That was a lot to get through at a young age,” Stewart said. “But I was able to weather that storm. A lot of people thought I’d be out of the league.”
After LeBron James elbows Isaiah Stewart in the face, both teams have to be separated multiple times. Upon review, James and Stewart are ejected.
Stewart was for the incident with James, and in February 2024 he was for punching center in the parking lot of Phoenix’s Footprint Center ahead of a Pistons-Suns game. Stewart was arrested, and misdemeanor assault charges were dropped days later. (Last season, for his role in a skirmish between the Pistons and Timberwolves. In all, Stewart has been suspended five times.)
“I wouldn’t say there’s any regrets because I learned from every situation,” Stewart said. “It helped shape me. You can’t be scared to go through those hard times. It may not be the [best] press.”
On the court, his game grew as the team made marginal progress in the wake of a league-record 28-game losing streak to begin the 2023-24 season. He found silver linings in the analytics that pegged him as one of the best defensive bigs in the league.
“I’m up there with the other guys on winning teams. But I know if we don’t get the win, I don’t get the love, Stewart said. “I remember how we were treated when we were down, what our peers said about us. It’s a different kind of pride [now]. The tables turn every time I take the floor.”
WALLACE’S FINAL GAME was eight years before Stewart was drafted. But while the two big men come from different eras of the NBA, Wallace’s simple advice for the now six-season veteran transcends generations: “Be yourself.”
“Since nobody around the organization or within the organization is putting that pressure on him to go out and be the next Ben Wallace, now he can go out and just relax and play basketball,” Wallace said. “[But] you can see the signs of why people might say that he could be the next Ben Wallace.”
One major sign: Stewart’s knack for meeting opponents at the rim.
Where players see an open lane with one body standing between himself and a highlight, Stewart sees an opportunity. For momentum. For a soul-crushing block that sparks a fast break. For a play that sends the home crowd into delirium and the road crowd into disbelief.
Stewart, the NBA’s in December, has built a greatest hits compilation of blocks. He chased down guard . on a fast break . He took pleasure in swatting rookie ‘s floater in the final minute during a two-point overtime loss in Dallas . He added to the graveyard of those who’ve tried to flush on him, the only thing that didn’t go well during Leonard’s 55-point outburst on Dec. 28.
, when he caught high-flyer in midair on a play that was initially called a foul but overturned by review.
“I believe in my timing and putting myself in the right position,” Stewart said. “What’s going on in my head is slowing everything down. You gotta be able to take one, two [steps] then get ready to blast off.”
Those blocks often turn into momentum plays for the East-leading Pistons, who should no longer be catching any opponents by surprise, even if Stewart still does on the defensive end.
“When I do it, I feel it. I feel dudes’ hearts being crushed,” he said. “I know I can get dunked on, but I don’t care. Most people would try to find a way to get out of trouble…
“But I wait there. I put myself in harm’s way.”
Stewart knows that making such plays comes with risk. Still, it’s clear how much he relishes his role — as protector, as intimidator, as torch-carrying member of tradition, continuing on a proud past while adding his own twist. One that Detroit’s legendary big man can surely appreciate.
“The physical nature, going out there and [saying], ‘I’m gonna protect my teammates, protect this paint,” Wallace said.
“And if you got a problem with it, that’s just on you.”
