Chad Iske has spent nearly two decades in the NBA’s inner sanctum. The Kansas alum has been in meeting rooms with George Karl and on courts with Carmelo Anthony, Brad Beal, John Wall, and LaMelo Ball. The Iowa native has seen Nikola Jokic grow up with the Denver Nuggets and celebrated with a Coach of the Year mentor, only to watch him get fired days later. Through it all, Iske's basketball compass has pointed not to the marquee, but to the mortar that is essential for holding organizations together.
It is a perspective that began, fittingly, with a love not for the star but for the steady hand beside Michael Jordan.
“My favorite player is weird because my family is originally a big Hawkeyes fans,” Iske teased, “but it's BJ Armstrong. Then he went to the Bulls and they were one of the only shows on TV with WGN. Gotta love WGN in the 90s. So then I had to love MJ, but I really loved BJ Armstrong and those great teams.”
Not Jordan, Magic, or Bird, but BJ Armstrong. The steady point guard, the role player who made the machine hum. That early appreciation foreshadowed everything that followed. Iske gravitated toward the connective tissue of winning. The pieces that do not dominate headlines but determine sustainability. Even now, in an executive role, that perspective remains intact.
Perhaps that is why part of him still leans toward the bench.
“There is still a big part of me, like I love this totally, but if I had a chance to get back on the coaching side, it'd be tough,” admitted Iske. “If it were a good situation, I'd entertain it because I just miss the camaraderie day in and day out as a leader, being together and being around the guys. Building those relationships.”
This understanding of the essential pieces, the ones that build cohesion, did not come from a manual. No, the path that led him there was anything but linear. It started with proximity, curiosity, and a willingness to say yes before knowing where it might lead.
“Went to Kansas for college, so I had to like basketball. Did sports management at KU, then a friend and I started coaching at a small private school in Lawrence,” Iske recalls. “We were having so much fun, we started our own AAU team.”
That hustle led to a fateful, almost comically casual, entry into the NBA.
“I just walked in and they said, ‘Sure, we can use an extra body,' and that was that,” laughed Iske. “It wound up turning into a full-time gig (with the Nuggets).”
What began as fetching coffee and logging film evolved into something more substantial. The video room became his graduate school, and some of the NBA's most respected minds became his professors.
“I started off in the video room doing everything for anybody in (basketball operations),” Iske explained. “In the meantime, I just soaked things up on the coaching side when we had George Karl and Carmelo Anthony. Karl kind of became my benchmark as I elevated through their coaching ranks through 2013. Then he won Coach of the Year and got fired.”
It's delivered matter-of-factly, the kind of statement that reveals the brutal reality of NBA coaching careers in 10 words: “He won Coach of the Year and then got fired.”
That lesson stuck with Iske as he navigated the league's unforgiving landscape.
From Nuggets to nomad
Charlotte Hornets guard LaMelo Ball (L) talks with assistant coach Chad Iske (R) during a time out during the fourth quarter against the Denver Nuggets at the Spectrum Center.
Jim Dedmon-Imagn Images
Article Continues Below
Iske learned to read the room, to understand that job security is an illusion and adaptation is survival. More importantly, he learned to find his voice amid the chaos, discovering that perspective and authenticity mattered more than trying to mimic what legendary mentors might do.
What followed was a tour through the modern NBA. Process years. Rebuilds. Playoff pushes. Firings that arrived abruptly and opportunities that followed just as unexpectedly. Now, injuries are plaguing the Nuggets.
“On Brett Brown's staff, the first few years of The Process. Went to Sacramento to link up with George again, got fired. Got to work with Scott Brooks in D.C., had some great years with Brad Beal and John Wall. Worked under Borrego for a bit in Charlotte, but then we got let go,” sighed Iske. “Fortunately, the Nuggets called again, and I got into pro scouting. That led to being the G-League GM and head of scouting role I'm in now.”
That circuitous journey taught Iske to appreciate everyone in an organization and take nothing for granted. Each firing was a reset, each new opportunity a chance to absorb different philosophies. The instability that crushes some careers fortified his. Now those lessons come in handy leading a G-League team, where every player is fighting for relevance and every day requires reassurance that their work matters.
Chad Iske in the lab
Managing a developmental league requires a particular emotional intelligence. Some players view the G-League as a demotion, a holding pattern, or worse, a dead end. Iske's philosophy centers on reframing that narrative. The Gold isn't where careers stall. It's where they accelerate through meaningful minutes and intentional development. It's a laboratory, not a layover.
“Two-way players know when they are in Grand Rapids, it's going to be all about development and meaningful minutes. When they are with the Nuggets, there will be opportunities to play and contribute,” Iske stressed. “Tamar Bates (19.9 PPG) and Curtis Jones (21.5 PPG, 5.6 RPG) did very well in the (G-League Tip-Off Tournament) with the Gold, but Spencer Jones has really stepped up and shown what we've been building.”
“All three of those guys want to get back to playing some Gold games. Winning that trophy has become very important, and the standing shows how much they care,” added Iske. “All three of those guys want to get back to playing some Gold games,” Iske added. “Winning that [Tip-Off] trophy has become very important, and the standings show how much they care.”
That philosophy has powered early breakout performances. Jones is averaging 6.1 points, 2.8 rebounds, 1.0 assists, and 1.5 blocks/steals per game (20 minutes) with the varsity squad. Nikola Jokic's Nuggets have needed Jones (31 games played) to jump into the starting lineup 20 times.
It is BJ Armstrong's logic applied at scale. Greatness is in the foundation, in the pieces that make the machine hum. Value the role. Respect the grind. It is not about where you play, but how you contribute to the whole. Understand that winning is rarely about the loudest voice in the room. Sometimes it is about the ones who keep everything moving, even when no one is watching.
An Iowa kid idolized the worker, the glue, the player who did the little things on a team full of giants. It makes perfect sense that he found a niche nurturing those exact types of players. And in Grand Rapids, 1,200 miles from the Mile High City, Chad Iske is providing another example of how sustainable championship contenders are built from the ground up.