“We wanted to be here,” Merrill told Cleveland’s Chris Fedor. “I’m really thrilled. The city of Cleveland is fantastic, and the people here are so passionate and welcoming. It’s a place where basketball means something.”
These words, spoken with quiet gratitude and conviction, carry more weight than they first appear to. Sam Merrill’s path to this moment has been anything but smooth or predictable. From under-the-radar college beginnings to bouncing around the NBA, Merrill has faced the grind and uncertainty that define the lives of many fringe players. But today, in Cleveland, there’s a sense of belonging and purpose that is both refreshing and rare. Merrill is no longer a traveler hoping for a shot; he’s a part of something growing in the Cavaliers’ locker room — and his presence speaks volumes about how the franchise is evolving.
Cleveland is a city that embraces effort, resilience, and authenticity. This is a place that values blue-collar energy as much as talent, and it’s exactly why Merrill’s story resonates so deeply. His declaration isn’t some PR-friendly soundbite. It’s a sincere admission from a player who understands the value of fit, opportunity, and timing. And in Cleveland, all those elements have finally aligned.
Merrill has carved out a role not through flash or headlines, but through steadiness. He is a marksman, a shooter who stretches the floor, but he’s also more than that. He’s a communicator on the floor, someone who understands spacing, rhythm, and the subtle nuances of team play. The Cavaliers aren’t just keeping him around for depth — they’re doing so because he adds something valuable to the mix. He fits. And in today’s NBA, fit is often more important than pedigree.
For Merrill, finding that kind of match hasn’t come easily. After being drafted 60th overall in the 2020 NBA Draft by the New Orleans Pelicans and immediately traded to the Milwaukee Bucks, he played limited minutes on a championship-winning team. He then spent time with the Memphis Grizzlies before brief stints in the G League and elsewhere. But at each stop, he stayed the course, kept refining his shot, and sharpened his understanding of the game. He didn’t complain. He didn’t grandstand. He simply worked.
When Cleveland gave him a chance, Merrill didn’t just see a job — he saw a potential home. He saw a team that wasn’t just trying to compete, but to build sustainably. And he saw a coach in J.B. Bickerstaff — and now Kenny Atkinson — who understands the importance of chemistry and the balance between youth and experience. The Cavaliers are led by young stars like Darius Garland and Evan Mobley, but they’re also infused with players like Merrill who provide maturity and a steadying presence. Every contender needs those glue guys — and Merrill has quietly become one of them.
His enthusiasm for Cleveland isn’t just tied to basketball, though. There’s something about the city itself that’s left an impression on him. Maybe it’s the way the fans rally behind the team regardless of the win-loss record. Maybe it’s the culture of resilience that mirrors his own journey. Maybe it’s simply the feeling that, for once, he’s not auditioning — he’s contributing. Whatever the reason, Merrill’s praise of the city wasn’t empty. It reflected genuine appreciation for a place that embraced him when few others were willing to.
What makes this even more significant is that Cleveland isn’t a free-agent destination in the traditional sense. Stars don’t circle it on their calendar. National media rarely swoons over it. But that’s exactly why players like Merrill matter. They bring credibility to what the Cavaliers are trying to do. They send a signal that Cleveland doesn’t need to be flashy to be a worthwhile destination — it just needs to keep building the right way.
And building they are. The Cavaliers are in an interesting spot in their development cycle. With Donovan Mitchell recently reaffirming his commitment by signing an extension, and Garland, Mobley, and Jarrett Allen continuing to form the core, the franchise is not only relevant but dangerous. They’re not trying to be the Cavaliers of LeBron James’ second tenure. They’re trying to be something new, something sustainable. Merrill’s role in that transformation is subtle, but important. He represents the kind of professional depth that playoff teams must rely on when stars rest or injuries strike.
He also represents a mindset — one rooted in humility and hunger. Merrill doesn’t demand the ball. He doesn’t pout when minutes fluctuate. He simply makes the most of what he’s given. In many ways, he embodies the very ethos Cleveland wants to foster: tough, selfless, and team-first.
His shooting, of course, is his calling card. It’s what got him into the league, and it’s what continues to earn him respect from opponents and teammates alike. But his role has expanded beyond the arc. He’s become a reliable voice in the locker room, someone who studies film, anticipates defensive schemes, and helps keep younger players grounded. These things don’t show up in the box score, but coaches and executives know their worth. Merrill, in that regard, is invaluable.
The irony of it all is that Merrill wasn’t supposed to be a key piece on an NBA roster. He was a late second-round pick from Utah State, a school that doesn’t often produce NBA players. He’s undersized for a two-guard and not especially explosive. But his basketball IQ is high, his effort consistent, and his demeanor unshakable. He doesn’t try to be what he’s not. And in doing so, he’s become exactly what Cleveland needed.
In many ways, Merrill’s quote — “We wanted to be here” — could be interpreted as a broader statement about the culture in Cleveland. Players want to be where they’re valued. They want to be where they’re seen, not just as athletes but as people. And right now, Cleveland offers that in spades. The front office under Koby Altman has made smart, culture-first decisions. They’ve resisted the urge to chase headlines in favor of assembling a group that actually fits together. And that patience is starting to pay off.
Merrill is part of that payoff. He’s a symbol of how far the franchise has come since the tumultuous post-LeBron years. No longer defined by desperation or constant turnover, the Cavaliers are now operating with clarity. They know who they are and what they want — and it turns out, players like Merrill want the same thing.
What happens next will depend on the usual mix of health, development, and luck. But Cleveland has something most franchises crave: identity. And players like Sam Merrill reinforce it every time they step on the court. They remind fans and teammates alike that it’s not always the loudest voices or flashiest moves that make the difference — sometimes it’s the quiet professionals who hold it all together.
For Merrill, the journey to this point has tested his resolve. He’s faced the G League grind, the uncertainty of being waived, and the challenge of staying relevant in a league that’s always looking for younger, faster, flashier options. But through it all, he’s stayed true to himself. And now, in Cleveland, he’s finally seeing that loyalty rewarded.
His story isn’t just a feel-good footnote. It’s a testament to what can happen when preparation meets opportunity. It’s a reminder that in the NBA — and in life — there’s no straight path to success. Sometimes, the scenic route ends up being the most rewarding.
So when Merrill says, “We wanted to be here,” he’s speaking from a place of earned confidence. He’s not chasing a dream anymore — he’s living one. And he’s doing it in a city that appreciates every ounce of effort he brings. That mutual respect, between player and city, is rare. But in Cleveland, it feels natural.
It’s easy to overlook players like Sam Merrill in a league dominated by stars and storylines. But if you look closely — really closely — you’ll see the impact. It’s in the way a team moves, the way a bench responds, the way a locker room trusts one another. Merrill is part of that foundation. And for the Cavaliers, he’s not just another name on the roster — he’s proof that Cleveland is becoming a destination, one honest voice and one made three-pointer at a time.
