Life on NBA’s fringe Vander Blue’s singular pursuit of playing at basketball’s highest level has persisted through seven years of instability, anguish and glimmers of hope.

Life on NBA’s fringe Vander Blue’s singular pursuit of playing at basketball’s highest level has persisted through seven years of instability, anguish and glimmers of hope.

Vander Blue awoke at 9:30 a.m. in Room 111 at the Hyatt Place, wiped the sleep from his eyes and pulled on a royal blue T-shirt with “SANTA CRUZ BASKETBALL” across the front.

It was an overcast Sunday in early December. While his Santa Cruz Warriors teammates snoozed after getting in late from New York, Blue walked five blocks to the 2,505-seat Kaiser Permanente Arena. As rain pounded the metal roof above, Blue put up jumpers while player-development coach Mike Newton rebounded for him.

Blue’s seven-year professional career has spanned eight G League teams, four countries, more than 400 teammates and just 10 NBA games. If he has learned anything, it’s that a couple of missed shots can be the difference between a million-dollar contract and the $35,000 deal he signed with Santa Cruz.

“On a day like today, we don’t have a shootaround, but I’m just trying to get a rhythm,” Blue said. “I know it’s going to reward me. In this business, you can be at the bottom of the world one day and at the top the next.”

Blue was 225 points shy of passing former Warriors forward Renaldo Major for the G League’s career scoring record. But after more than a half-decade of instability, Blue’s focus is on trading commercial flights and budget hotels for the NBA’s charter planes and five-star suites.

When Blue is compared to Crash Davis, the fictional slugger in “Bull Durham” who breaks the minor-league career home run record, he is quick to counter that, unlike Kevin Costner’s character, he is not in his 30s. At 27, Blue should be in his prime.

He believes he’s as daunting a matchup as he was that night 4½ years ago when he posted 15 points, eight assists and seven rebounds while playing the full 48 minutes of the Lakers’ regular-season finale against the Kings. His struggle for an NBA home is as much a reflection of modern team-building priorities as it is his own unexpected setbacks, from depression to a freak accident involving a fog machine.

“It’s all about opportunity,” Santa Cruz general manager Ryan Atkinson said. “Vander is someone who, like a lot of guys, is talented enough to be in the NBA. But unfortunately for him, situations happened that haven’t allowed him to stick.”

After he made 300 shots with Newton, Blue walked to a cramped locker room with a paper name card taped to his wooden stall. As he changed into gray sweatpants, a black long-sleeve shirt and a black beanie, Blue, a Milwaukee native who spent his formative years in Madison, Wis., tried to name every active NBA player from his home state.

“We’ve got good players in Wisconsin, man,” Blue said. “Henry Ellenson, Wes Matthews, Tyler Herro, Kevon Looney. Who else is in the league? I know there’s somebody else.”

Some scouts believe that somebody should be Blue.

Every NBA team needs scorers, and he has shown he can be a proficient one. At 6-foot-5, 200 pounds, Blue is an athletic guard and versatile shot-maker. Though slightly undersized, he has built a reputation as a willing defender. When scouts told him last summer that he needed to improve his 3-point shot, he tinkered with his mechanics. He’s now shooting a career-best 43.2% beyond the arc.

How this story was reported On Dec. 8, staff writer Connor Letourneau spent a game day shadowing Vander Blue in Santa Cruz. After talking with Blue, head coach Kris Weems, general manager Ryan Atkinson and player-development coach Mike Newton in person, Letourneau interviewed nearly a half-dozen people close to Blue on the phone.

There are still general managers, however, who view Blue as inconsistent and not big or long enough for the modern NBA. It doesn’t help that certain teams believe he is moody, a deal-breaker for someone trying to round out a bench.

“I think people kind of get a little afraid of his passion,” said Haylee Stephens, Blue’s longtime girlfriend. “At times, he has a hard time putting up with players who don’t share that passion. I think he’s very misunderstood.”

Even in an era of relentless roster turnover, Blue’s journey is extreme: He has been waived eight times and traded three times. His stints have included a day and a half on the Maine Red Claws, a week with the Delaware 87ers, nine days on the Boston Celtics, two weeks in China, three weeks in Israel, a month on the Philadelphia 76ers and two months with the Wisconsin Herd.

During a chaotic first year after going undrafted out of Marquette in 2013, Blue became an aspiring minimalist. Tired of hauling a huge suitcase from city to city, he dropped clothes at Goodwill stores across the country, shedding all but the essentials. When Blue checked into Room 111 in late October, he brought a few changes of clothes, four pairs of luxury sneakers, stereo headphones, a PlayStation 4 and a copy of “NBA 2K19.”

Early in his career, deciding he needed a road companion, Blue visited a Los Angeles-area breeder and picked the cutest German shepherd puppy of the litter. The next afternoon, his agent called. Blue had been acquired by the G League’s 87ers and needed to fly to Newark, Del., immediately. He returned the dog and cried as he drove to the airport.

Over the years, Blue has rejected multiple seven-figure contracts overseas to make less than the average elementary schoolteacher. Portland, Maine, and Boise, Idaho, offered something Europe and Asia did not: the possibility of a mid-season NBA call-up.

“For me, it’s really never been about the money,” Blue said. “Ever since I was a little kid, I’ve wanted to make the NBA — not just for a few games, but to have a real career. I’m willing to live on a budget if it means a quicker path to my dream.”

Blue, who keeps his only car parked at his Southern California apartment while on the road, tries to limit his Uber rides and walks whenever possible. Instead of buying the designer jeans his NBA friends wear, he spends $50 for jeans on Amazon.

Rita Blue, who raised three kids as a single mother on a social worker’s salary, monitors Blue’s bank account and gets heated discussing the time he spent $600 on basketball shoes. But her biggest concerns for her youngest son are emotional, not financial.

Blue has dealt with depression for nearly two years. There are days he feels hopeless, as if nothing he does — the twice-a-day workouts, the thousands of jumpers per week, the Saturday nights in — will get him closer to the NBA.

“People don’t know the tears that I cry because I know he’s hurting,” said Rita, who still has the Polaroid photo of a 6-year-old Vander posing in front of an NBA backdrop on career day. “He’s not going to show that in public, but there are times we’ve had conversations where it’s been very emotional. It’s been an emotional roller coaster.”

After Blue finished changing in the Santa Cruz locker room, he walked the four blocks to his new favorite brunch spot, Walnut Avenue Café. Without even surveying the menu, he ordered French toast with scrambled eggs (extra scrambled), a side of bacon and a glass of orange juice. “I’m not really big on surprises,” he said.

As a teenage waitress cleared Blue’s plates, she looked at the customer with the diamond earrings and silver chain necklace and, with a slight giggle, said, “Do you mind me asking, who are you? Are you famous? Are you an NBA player?”

Blue hesitated, unsure how to answer.

After a 45-minute nap in Room 111, he returned to Kaiser Permanente Arena for 2:30 p.m film study. As Santa Cruz assistant coach Anthony Vereen reviewed highlights of that evening’s opponent, the Windy City Bulls, on a projector near the home bench, Blue leaned forward in his front-row seat.

“This here is P.J. Dozier,” Vereen said, pointing at video of a spindly guard stealing the ball and taking it in for a one-handed dunk. “To me, he’s the head of their snake.”

Dozier, 23, is the type of prospect typical of the G League. On assignment from the Denver Nuggets, he is a versatile wing who has an opportunity to carve out a long NBA career — if he can improve his jump shot and find the right fit.

Not long ago, Blue held similar promise.

The first time Blue was called up to the Lakers, in April 2015, he was playing video games at a friend’s house in Dallas when he got a call telling him to board the next flight to Sacramento.

Unable to pack, he wore the same clothes for two straight days. Time was so short that Blue signed a $20,000 contract at the Sacramento airport for the final two games of the season.

Wearing the inactive Wayne Ellington’s jersey with a crooked “1” slapped next to Ellington’s “2” to make a 12, Blue looked like he belonged, totaling 22 points, eight assists and nine rebounds in consecutive losses to the Kings. More than two years would pass before he got another chance in the NBA.

After Blue helped lead the Lakers to their first summer league title in Las Vegas, they signed him to a two-way contract in October 2017, giving him up to 45 days with the NBA club before he’d have to play out the season with their G League affiliate. Blue would have his own Lakers jersey — and an opportunity to stick.

“I was playing at my highest level, and I was getting the respect I thought I deserved,” he said. “Finally, things seemed to be coming together for me.”

Little more than a month after he signed, Blue was sitting in the VIP section of a Dallas-area nightclub when he felt a burst of cold air hit his left side. A fog machine built into his couch had malfunctioned and blasted him with carbon dioxide.

Blue didn’t think much of it at first, but he knew something was wrong when he returned to his hotel and found boils snaking up his buttocks, back and left elbow. The next night, with his second-degree burns heavily bandaged, he was in too much pain to attack the rim.

After flying back to Los Angeles and visiting an emergency room, he missed two weeks as he learned how to handwash himself, change his bandages and sit without yelping in pain. When Blue returned, he struggled to regain his aggression. Self-doubt plagued him.

During the G League Showcase that January in Mississauga, Ontario, president of basketball operations Magic Johnson told Blue that the Lakers were releasing him. He just wasn’t the same player.

After a brief stint in Italy with Auxilium Pallacanestro Torino, Blue returned to the San Fernando Valley apartment he shared with Stephens and sank into a deep depression. His days were spent playing video games, eating fast food and sleeping. Texts and calls from NBA friends went unanswered.

“He was just out of it,” Stephens said. “It was hard to get him out of the house. He didn’t even want to talk about basketball, which is very unlike him.”

At his mom’s urging, Blue started to see a psychiatrist and slowly began to feel like himself again. Summer pickup games against NBA players at UCLA helped him recapture his passion for basketball.

After splitting last season between the G League’s Wisconsin Herd and Texas Legends, he expected to return to the Legends. In late October, just a few days before training camp, the Legends informed Blue that they were waiving him. They needed to give his minutes to players already under NBA contracts.

Santa Cruz Warriors guard Vander Blue gets dressed for practice before the NBA G League basketball game against Windy City Bulls. Santa Cruz Warriors guard Vander Blue gets dressed for practice before the NBA G League basketball game against Windy City Bulls. Photo: LiPo Ching / Special To The Chronicle Photo: LiPo Ching / Special To The Chronicle Image 1 of / 6 Caption Close Life on NBA’s fringe: Will Vander Blue’s seven-year struggle pay off? 1 / 6 Back to Gallery

The next day, he sat in front of his MacBook, index finger dancing as he refreshed the G League draft page online. After seeing name after name of younger players he didn’t recognize, Blue finally went to the Warriors midway through the second round.

In early December, while wearing a shooting sleeve over his left arm to cover the burn marks that have resulted in an ongoing lawsuit with the Dallas nightclub, Blue sprang from the bench midway through the third quarter against the Windy City Bulls. He started to jog onto the floor when an official yelled, “You have to check in at the scorer’s table, Vander!”

Though he finished with just 10 points, three rebounds and one assist, Blue flashed his offensive potential, at one point weaving through traffic and spinning by a defender to drop in a layup. After the game, Santa Cruz head coach Kris Weems lauded Blue’s professionalism, saying, “I’m really proud of him. I hope he’s an example to the other guys that you can always adjust your game to fit into what a team needs.”

Four days later, Atkinson, the general manager, called Blue at 7:45 a.m. and asked to meet in his office. As soon as Blue saw the caller ID, he knew what loomed.

Atkinson and Weems told him that two-way-contract player Ky Bowman, who was joining Santa Cruz from Golden State later that day, would cut into Blue’s already modest minutes. Santa Cruz was waiving Blue so that he could find a better opportunity elsewhere.

He returned to Room 111, packed up his few belongings and boarded the next flight to Los Angeles. When Blue arrived back at his apartment, he ran 2 miles on the treadmill, reflecting on his latest setback.

Then he texted his agent: “What’s next?”

Connor Letourneau is a San Francisco Chronicle staff writer. Email: cletourneau@sfchronicle.com. Twitter: @Con_Chron