Forget Santa. JJ Redick doesn’t believe in Santa anymore. 

Santa gives gifts without accountability, effort, or a post-game press conference about professionalism. And that’s just not how JJ Redick rolls.

In the Redick household, Christmas isn’t about joy. It’s about standards.

This year, Redick, the former NBA role player turned ESPN talking head turned Los Angeles Lakers head coach, decided his sons Kai (9) and Knox (11) wouldn’t just get their biggest Christmas presents. They’d have to earn them by writing persuasive essays explaining why they deserved them.

Essays. For Christmas.

Because nothing screams "holiday spirit" like a grading rubric and implied consequences.

Kai wanted a Meta VR headset. Knox wanted an Apple Watch. Redick reviewed the submissions like game film.

"I thought my 9-year-old really knocked it out of the park," Redick said, which is an objectively unhinged sentence unless you’re talking about a law school final or a pick-and-roll read. Kai’s core argument, that his friends already have one, is the exact excuse Redick has spent years shredding NBA players for making. But apparently, when it comes from a fourth-grader, it shows maturity, leadership, and buy-in.

Effort was there. Execution was clean. Gift approved.

Knox’s Apple Watch came with strings attached. Redick framed it as responsibility. Translation: Christmas, but make it probation.

"We realize we got to start keeping tabs on him," Redick said, cheerfully explaining that his son’s holiday present doubles as a tracking device. Knox doesn’t have a phone, but now he has a phone number, a "big step," Redick noted, which is the same thing coaches say when they’re trying to convince themselves a blowout loss contained positives.

"Location services are on," Redick added, because of course they are.

And here’s where it all comes together.

This Christmas-morning parenting seminar came just hours before Redick’s Lakers were humiliated 119–96 by the Houston Rockets, their third straight loss, sixth in 10 games, and yet another double-digit embarrassment. A game so lifeless it prompted Redick to once again publicly question his team’s professionalism.

"We don’t care enough right now," Redick said. "We don’t care enough to be a professional."

He promised the next practice would be uncomfortable. Meetings uncomfortable. Conversations uncomfortable. Accountability uncomfortable.

Which is rich, considering this is the same JJ Redick who spent years on ESPN and podcasts ripping other coaches, especially Doc Rivers, for doing exactly this. Throwing players under the bus. Calling out effort. Questioning professionalism. Making everything public.

Now Redick is doing it nightly.

Lakers coach JJ Redick arrives to the arena before the game against the Houston Rockets on Christmas. (Photo by Juan Ocampo/NBAE via Getty Images)

And when the accountability spotlight swings back toward him, he suddenly finds the conversation less appealing.

When asked near the end of his first season with the Lakers about his own coaching decisions, Redick famously bristled, labeled the question unfair, and walked out, literally removing himself from accountability while demanding it from everyone else in the room. The same guy who says players need to "care enough" apparently doesn’t care enough to sit through a follow-up.

At this point, it’s fair to ask whether Redick actually enjoys coaching and parenting, or if he simply loves the sound of accountability speeches echoing in enclosed spaces.

Players can’t make mistakes. Kids can’t get gifts. Everything must be earned. Nothing is given. No grace. No Santa.

Somewhere in the Redick house, you can picture it perfectly. Dad is reading an essay, shaking his head.

"Good argument," he says. "But you didn’t bring it early enough."

Merry Christmas, kids.

Saturday night’s bedtime story will be uncomfortable.