Who Is the Number 1 High School Basketball Player and How Did They Get There?
Through the program, local schools will partner with SLU to identify and nominate promising students to receive half-tuition scholarships worth more than $28,000 per year. Applicants will remain eligible for additional scholarships above this level.
I remember the first time I saw Jared Cortez play—it was during last year's National High School Championship semifinals, and honestly, I wasn't prepared for what I witnessed. With seventeen seconds left on the clock and his team down by three, he didn't just take the shot; he orchestrated the entire play, drawing two defenders before sinking a contested three-pointer that sent the game into overtime. That moment solidified something I've come to believe strongly: being the number one high school basketball player isn't just about stats or physical gifts—it's about possessing that rare combination of skill, mental toughness, and an almost instinctual understanding of the game. And right now, in my view, there's no one who embodies this more completely than Jared Cortez of the Green Archers.
What separates Cortez from other elite prospects isn't just his 28.5 points per game average or his 42% shooting from beyond the arc. It's his evolution into what coaches and scouts quietly call a "closer"—a player who not only wants the ball when the game is on the line but consistently delivers under that pressure. I've followed high school basketball for over fifteen years, covering more than 300 games, and I can count on one hand the number of players who had this quality so early in their development. The Green Archers' coaching staff told me privately that in games decided by five points or less this season, Cortez is shooting an astonishing 58% from the field in the final two minutes. That's not just good—that's historically significant for a high school athlete.
His journey to this point fascinates me because it defies the modern blueprint for creating basketball prodigies. While many top prospects now follow meticulously managed paths through academy programs and year-round competitive circuits, Cortez's development has been more organic, almost old-school in its approach. He didn't attend a basketball-focused high school until his sophomore year, instead playing for his local public school where he was often the only Division-I prospect on the roster. I think this actually worked to his advantage—he learned to carry a team rather than simply functioning as one talented piece among many. His father, a former college player himself, insisted that Jared master fundamentals before specializing, spending countless hours on footwork, balance, and reading defensive schemes rather than just practicing flashy dunks or deep threes.
The transformation really accelerated during his junior year when the Green Archers' coaching staff made the deliberate decision to build their late-game offense entirely around him. I spoke with Head Coach Miller about this transition, and he described it as "unlocking Jared's innate sense of moment." They stopped calling specific plays during crunch time and instead gave Cortez the freedom to read and react. The results have been remarkable—in their last twelve close games, the Green Archers have won eleven, with Cortez either scoring or assisting on the decisive basket in nine of those victories. What impresses me most is how he elevates his performance when it matters most. His field goal percentage actually increases in fourth quarters, which contradicts the typical pattern even for talented young players who often fatigue or become less efficient under pressure.
From a technical standpoint, Cortez's game is beautifully balanced. Standing at 6'5" with a wingspan measuring approximately 6'10", he has the physical tools that make scouts take notice, but it's his skill development that truly sets him apart. He spent last summer working with a shooting coach to quicken his release, reducing his shooting motion time from 0.78 seconds to what I estimate is around 0.65 seconds—a significant improvement that makes his shot nearly unblockable. Defensively, he's improved his lateral quickness through specialized agility training, allowing him to guard multiple positions effectively. I've noticed he rarely bites on pump fakes, maintaining disciplined positioning that reflects hours of film study.
The mental aspect of his development might be even more impressive than the physical. I've observed him during timeouts in tight games, and while other players are often visibly nervous or distracted, Cortez maintains an almost preternatural calm. Teammates describe him as having what they call "slow heartbeat"—the ability to remain composed when everything is on the line. This temperament, combined with his basketball IQ, creates a player who seems to process the game at a different speed than his opponents. He recognizes defensive rotations before they fully develop and exploits mismatches with ruthless efficiency. In their playoff victory against Riverview Academy last month, I counted at least four possessions where Cortez identified a defensive scheme the opponents had only shown once previously in the game and immediately attacked its weakness.
His recruitment reflects this unique status—every major program has offered him a scholarship, but what's telling is how coaches are pitching him. Instead of promising immediate playing time or highlighting their developmental track record, several have focused on how they can build their program around his closing ability. Duke's coaching staff reportedly told him they see him as their "four-minute player"—someone who can control the game's decisive final stretches. This specific recruitment approach is unusual for a high school player and speaks to how specialized his skill set has become.
Looking at the broader landscape of high school basketball, I believe Cortez represents something of a throwback—a player whose value isn't just in his athletic measurements or highlight-reel plays, but in his tangible impact on winning basketball games. In an era where social media highlights often overshadow actual performance, his game is built on substance over style. He doesn't lead the nation in spectacular dunks, but he might be the country's most reliable player when his team needs a basket in crucial moments. This quality, more than any other, is why I consider him the clear number one high school basketball player right now.
As Cortez prepares for his collegiate career and beyond, the foundation he's built with the Green Archers gives him a legitimate chance to excel at the next level. The "closer" mentality translates better than almost any other basketball skill because pressure only increases as the stages get bigger. While nothing is guaranteed in player development, his particular combination of technical proficiency, basketball intelligence, and mental fortitude creates a profile that I believe will age exceptionally well. The Green Archers didn't just develop a talented scorer—they cultivated a player who understands that greatness isn't about how you start games, but how you finish them. And in my years covering basketball, I've never seen a high school player finish quite like Jared Cortez.