There’s the way he calls for the rock down low. Rather than the typical showing of the palm to the entry-passer, Burns cups his hand and gives the ‘come here’ motion, wiggling his fingers as if he was a schoolteacher inviting a student to a quiet discussion at the front of the classroom. When the hand goes up, you imagine his defender letting out the same chagrined sigh a student would. Here we go again.

But this is where the fun begins, for the rest of us.

It starts with Burns’ 6’9-and-275-pound frame, which has been covered mostly as a circus-like oddity, less so for the way he uses it to excel on the court. Burns is stronger than every individual defender he’s faced during NC State’s eight-game winning streak to the Sweet 16, including UNC’s Armando Bacot. In the ACC Championship Game, the Tar Heels largely defended Burns straight up, allowing the big man to patiently bulldoze his way to 20 points:

This is no slight to Bacot, but rather a lesson to the rest of NC State’s opponents. If even the 6’11” 24-year-old can’t bother Burns, you better come up with a different defensive strategy. And no, half-hearted help defense isn’t going to cut it either: Burns is unfairly hand-eye coordinated for someone of his size.

Prolonging the dribble is a skill associated with elite guard-play, but Burns can maintain a live dribble no matter how physical his defender gets, no matter how many digs come from the perimeter. Thus, his post-up opportunities can cover 20 feet or last for ten seconds if you’re not careful:

But Burns hasn’t just displayed incredible strength, coordination, and touch during March. He has the finer points of post-up basketball down, and while the ‘chess-match’ analogy is incredibly overused, it comes to mind when watching Burns treat help defenders defenders like pawns.

If the path to a bucket isn’t to his liking, Burns is eager to throw the ball back out and re-post. On the following play against Texas Tech, the big man twice looks toward the middle, sees too much traffic, and kicks it out before ultimately finishing with a sweeping hook. Burns isn’t solely doing this to re-establish position — though he does that too — but to clear extra defenders out of the way. Look at #2 in white evacuate the area that Burns will steam through after the second pass.

His teammates deserve their share of credit too, doing all they can to revive the art of entry-passing. But of course they’re eager to throw it down to the big fella, who predictably combines his physical traits and court-mapping ability to create opportunities for others.

Burns has posted at least four assists in five of his last nine games, and the crown jewel of his passing performances came against Oakland in the round of 32. No zone defense is particularly amenable to post play, and especially not Oakland’s zone, a funky 1-3-1/matchup hybrid. Help defenders can attack post-ups from all sorts of angles, and while the Golden Grizzlies tried to do so against Burns, they were rarely successful.

On this play, he heads middle to test the waters, but it’s just a test, so he keeps his dribble alive at the sight of two defenders. This allows him to spin back baseline, attracting another wave of help, which leaves teammate Mohamed Diarra open under the basket:

NC State Head Coach Kevin Keatts posted Burns in the middle of the floor against Oakland, and what a luxury it was. Not only was there the typical help defender at the top of the key, but one in the strong-side corner as well. Burns was operating in a hail-storm, and it hardly phased him; his highlight of the game came here, when both of those helpers converged to create a triple-team. They would have been successful against any other player:

To review: Leaving Burns on an island is untenable; he’ll overwhelm his individual defender, and he’ll shoo away lackluster digs. He also has the smarts to bend help defense to his whim whether he wants to score the rock or dish it off. And even if you do bring the blitz, even it gets home on time, good luck ripping the ball away from DJ Burns.

There is one move that encapsulates the DJ Burns Experience, and I hope you didn’t think I was going to forget it. It’s the spin move, the spin that likely birthed his ‘Smooth Operator’ nickname, simultaneously graceful and violent, but poetic all the same.

When Burns feels a defender’s forearm on his back, it’s just a matter of time before he flips the equation. In the blink of an eye, Burns is digging his elbow into the back of the defender.

This is everything we’ve grown to love about his game. Burns uses the move to both get by his defender and escape help defense. And while it’s one thing to use a spin move in the post, it’s another to do so with a live dribble. Not just any live dribble either, but one that almost puts a dent in the hardwood; he spins so violently, it’s surprising he can even control the ball again, but there’s that hand-eye coordination.

There’s a lot to love about DJ Burns. Plenty of basketball players are big, but not many combine size and strength with all the skills and smarts he possesses. Of course, all that talent hasn’t just made Burns a fan favorite during NC State’s eight-game winning streak.

It’s made him impossible to guard.

The post Why Can’t Anybody Stop DJ Burns? appeared first on Swish Theory.

That’s how ex-NBA’er Tim Legler described his baseline requirements for a championship-level NBA defense on JJ Redick‘s podcast, The Old Man and the Three. And all Leglar has to point to for evidence is the NBA’s most recent champion, the Denver Nuggets.

Denver’s defense was the definition of ‘adequate’ in the 2022-’23 regular season, finishing 15th in defensive rating. But try telling that to the Los Angeles Lakers and Miami Heat; each of those teams scored just 38 points in the second half of their respective season-ending losses to Denver. Their defense didn’t just “ramp it up,” they shut it down.

The Nuggets did it again in their most recent win, a mere regular-season triumph over the Golden State Warriors on Sunday night. Their moment of truth didn’t come at half-time of an NBA Finals closeout-game, though, but when Head Coach Michael Malone chided his group for their poor defensive start, down 45-32 after 14-and-a-half minutes of play.

“I don’t know if you guys are watching. Klay’s got 21, five threes. Make him work for it. “

Over the final 33-and-a-half minutes, the Warriors scored just 58 points. Klay Thompson scored two more points, and zero after half-time. Switch: flipped.

The Warriors remain the pre-eminent test for NBA defenses. Not because they are still the league’s most fearsome offense, but because the Dubs exist to force mistakes. Splash Bro Ridiculousness aside, Golden State’s buckets are often the result of clear defensive breakdowns. Sure, it’s hardly a sin to overcommit to Steph Curry and let his screener slip to the rim, but mistakes are mistakes, and the Warriors give defenses ample opportunity to make them.

In Sunday’s contest, Denver either didn’t take the bait, or hastily covered their tracks. In doing so, their defense took the shape of their offense; Nikola Jokić led the way, and his teammates were everywhere they were supposed to be.

This started, naturally, on Steph Curry’s pick-and-rolls. With Jokić in the action, the Nuggets showed two to the ball as many teams do, but with a wrinkle. In an effort to prevent some of the 4-on-3 mastery that Draymond Green has long showcased, Denver had Curry’s defender go under the screen to jam Green before recovering to Curry. Watch Kentavious Caldwell-Pope body Green up before stealing the ball here:

In order to throw two bodies at Curry and slow down Green’s prolific short-roll ability, the Joker had to hold up on one of the toughest individual covers in the world. At least, for the split-second after Curry sees Green isn’t an immediate release valve and thinks he has space to attack, a scary proposition for a seven-footer.

Here, Jokić doesn’t fall for Curry’s hesitation move and forces a change-of-direction back toward an oncoming KCP, which results in a turnover:

Caldwell-Pope was characteristically terrific on D, whether it was nailing off-ball switches or going under these ball-screens while still providing pressure.

So too was Aaron Gordon, AKA chicken soup for Michael Malone’s soul. How easy it must be to trap ball-screens with Jokić when Gordon is on the back-line, capable of both recovering to the rim for a block…

…and recovering to the perimeter to make a textbook closeout, as the Nuggets ultimately stifle the 4-on-3 advantage Golden State spent a dynasty perfecting:

The Nuggets couldn’t prevent every 4-on-3 advantage for the Dubs — the accepted cost of trapping/hedging vs Curry — but Gordon consistently de-escalated those situations.

Yet, it was Nikola Jokić who played the role of Denver’s biggest neutralizer.

Players like Sabrina Ionescu and James Harden, both possessing outlier hand-eye coordination but regarded as poor defenders for the majority of their careers, don’t suddenly lose their athletic ability when defending their basket. For all their flaws on that end of the floor, each can rack up deflections, using that same skillset that allows them to be such prolific off-the-dribble shooters on offense.

Nikola Jokić is cut from the same cloth, but has turned it up a notch. The notion that he is a negative defender is long gone. Are we surprised that his singular feel for the game is now apparent on both ends of the court?

Draymond Green just had to learn the hard way. Here, Big Honey punks Green in a vaunted 2-on-1 opportunity, feigning at his drive before breaking up the lob, forcing a turnover:

The Warriors had won that possession. A high ball-screen for Curry in early offense created the roll opportunity Denver had been trying to eliminate all night: Green storming downhill unimpeded, with a lob threat in the dunker spot. We’ve seen this movie on an infinite loop, but Jokić changed the ending.

Denver forced Golden State’s hand. Not only is Jokić now nimble enough to run aggressive schemes on the perimeter, but he has defenders like Aaron Gordon and Kentavious Caldwell-Pope to fill the gaps. Let him roam around the basket, and the mistakes Golden State forces don’t amount to much. Slip your little off-ball screens, sure, and slip right into the hands of Nikola Jokić:

The defining sequence of the game — and perhaps this new era of Western Conference supremacy — came with eight minutes left in the fourth quarter. The Nuggets led by five points, and each coach had subbed their big guns back in for the stretch run. Curry and Green checked in, as did Jokić and Caldwell-Pope.

As Golden State got into the meat of their out-of-timeout play, Curry floated off a flare screen from Trayce Jackson-Davis. Green watched Caldwell-Pope get caught on said screen, and passed it to a soon-to-be wide-open Curry.

Only, Jokić broke the rules. Green knew Jokić was too smart to get beat on the slip from Jackson-Davis, but didn’t consider the obviousness of that line of thinking. So the two-time MVP picked off Green’s pass and headed the other way to run a 2-on-1 fast-break against the greatest defender of his generation. The roles had been reversed, and the two basketball savants locked into a three-second chess match.

It was over before it started:

The Denver Nuggets still have it. Their defense is much like their offense, led by Nikola Jokić and capable of exploding for game-breaking stretches.

And of course, they’ll still dunk on you.

The post How the Denver Nugget Defense Dominates appeared first on Swish Theory.

Still, no handshake is complete without a wink. Your project could cut the line. Maybe the prognosticators were wrong. Maybe all he needs is a summer of professional weight-lifting and nutrition plans to flash potential and production at 19 years old. You never know.

Well, we found out pretty quickly with Scoot Henderson. He is nearly a lock to finish his rookie season dead-last in the NBA in eFG% and TS%, among qualified players. The Portland Trail Blazers go from bad to awful — getting outscored by just under 11 points per 100 — when Scoot takes the court. His early play was littered with missed shots and turnovers that just didn’t look right, quickly quieting the noise around the #3 overall pick:

The winking eye has faded, and what remains are the harsh realities of life as an NBA point guard who just turned 20. Disappointed? Perhaps. But should we be worried?

Jumper Watch

To answer that, we first have to talk about the jumper, his biggest pre-draft question mark. Scoot settled into his rookie year All-Star break shooting 31% from deep and somewhere between 33% and 34% on mid-range attempts. No matter where you get your statistics, the numbers tell a story of a broken shot.

Hold off, though, on declaring doomsday. It depends which of Scoot’s Jekyll-and-Hyde jumpers we’re talking about. If it’s the all-too common version where his energy transfer is corrupted by an exaggerated knee-bend, then yes. It’s broken:

After exerting so much energy to just get off the ground, — damn-near doing a squat — Scoot has little left for, you know, the actual shot attempt. It’s a symptom of poor lower-body organization, and it can manifest in other ways; he has one foot on red and one foot on green here:

The optimist’s case is quite easy to make: When Scoot gives himself a chance, he can shoot the rock. When his lower body complies, you expect the league’s least efficient scorer to knock it down. Even on a pound-dribble, side-step three:

Of course, slightly more power is required for deeper shots, but in general: The closer Scoot’s load-up looks to this, the better.

That’s the diagnosis on one of the worst jump-shooters in the NBA, but what’s the prognosis? Well, considering the raw numbers, it’s quite positive. The optimist has evidence of Scoot confidently step into sound pull-up threes when defenders duck under screens.

After a 2-of-21 start from deep in his first first five games, an ankle injury sidelined the young guard. Since his subsequent absence, Scoot is shooting a respectable 34% from deep. Overall, Scoot is making an eye-opening 35.2% of his threes off-the-dribble, but an also eye-opening 26.9% of his catch-and-shoot attempts. He is far more comfortable walking into pull-ups with the ball in hand, planning those steps to make sure nothing goes awry. This looks pretty good!

Anecdotally, his mechanics feel more consistent in recent weeks, though we still haven’t seen a percentage-boosting hot streak. I can’t, uh, spit on your head and tell you it’s raining by declaring that one of the NBA’s worst jump-shooters is actually a sniper, but there are signs of life.

Scoot will have ample opportunity — whether on or off the ball — to catch that heater. As you can see, defenders don’t show him a ton of respect beyond the arc.

The Magic is There

Or maybe it’s a form of respect. See, Scoot still displays the talent that Portland ultimately swung on. No matter how much space a defender puts between himself and Henderson, a minor slip-up still means Scoot is gone. Lu Dort learned this lesson the hard way, twice beat by a Scoot special: a ball-screen rejection:

The young man had us worried to start the year. Not about his athleticism or even ball-handling skills, but his advantage-perception. Scoot looked like a victim of overtraining. He had come from the shadowy G League Ignite and had every move in the bag. But in the fall, it looked like those moves were drilled into his muscle memory by high-level trainers and coaches, practiced on cones and chairs. Applying them against live bodies proved difficult.

The results were often ugly, like the offensive foul that led off this article, occasionally innocuous. Take this pseudo-Smitty that goes nowhere:

Did Scoot think Isaac Okoro was still on his hip, or that Evan Mobley was going to lunge at him? That would have been a nasty counter, if so, but Scoot reached in his bag for a solution that didn’t apply.

In the new year, that’s happened less frequently. Here, Dillon Brooks and Jock Landale think conservative ball-screen coverage is a piece of cake until they get hit with an evil, downhill tween/in-n-out combo:

Scoot’s shooting remains a concern, even for optimists. There’s talent to work with, and it does feel as if the lower-body organization has improved over the year. But until Scoot starts truly making more shots, those are words of affirmation rather than evidence points.

However, his driving has improved over his first half-season. He’s often more explosive than his matchup, but now he’s busting out appropriate, high-level dribble sequences to get by defenders. Throw in a consistent jump-shot (or, sigh, a real DeAndre Ayton screen) and this skill pops even more. But if there’s one worry that’s been quelled, it’s Scoot bringing the offensive goods at the point-of-attack. He’s gonna live in the paint; it’s not the first layer of defense that bothers him.

The Launch Pad

It’s the second and third. Ever the swing skill for young guards, Scoot picks the ball up too early on most his drives. His handle, impressive and aggressive in space, freezes up in the presence of even light help defense, and his shots at the rim are often unreasonably difficult.

When Scoot gets to the launch-pad, about ten or 12 feet from the basket, that’s it. He’s picking the dribble up and taking off, whether it’s off one foot or two. Even for a flammable, long-armed athlete like him, it’s too much:

Scoot is now taking 38% of his shots at the rim, per Cleaning the Glass. That’s a Ja Morant figure; he’s living around the cylinder. But he is only making 46% of these attempts, firmly in basement-territory. It doesn’t add up until you turn on the tape. Weak digs, stunts, defenders on hips, and big bodies in front of him abort his dribble. This one isn’t egregious, but the 6’2″ draft jewel should be able to dribble low through this nonchalant Jokić dig:

Aside from depressing his finishing numbers, Scoot’s launch-pad tendencies have blinded him from the weak-side. He views the second defender he inevitably attracts as a challenge, a big body to finish over, rather than a sign that someone is open on the other side of the floor:

Sure, these potential kick-outs aren’t glaringly obvious, and all are fairly late-developing plays. But through 43 games, Scoot hasn’t made many of these last-second decisions, or rather, adjustments on his drives. He’s set on taking a floater or layup once he picks the ball up, and thus, his decision-making window is real tight. There is currently little read-and-react to his game inside 15-feet.

Listen. Scoot is getting into that lane and drawing help defense, the ultimate point-guard building block. And yes, this seems like a correctable habit. But isn’t it mildly concerning that seeing multiple defenders doesn’t trigger passing instincts like, ‘Hey, I just left Jae Crowder in the dust, and I’m looking at Giannis Antetokounmpo preparing to meet me at the rim. Someone must be open!’

That’s why this play, from an early February game against the Denver Nuggets, put a big smile on my face. Scoot progresses to the fourth pick-and-roll read (shot -> roll -> corner skip -> slot), reading not just the low-man, but the second weak-side defender as well.

We can work on the passing accuracy later.

Scoot Henderson hasn’t proven he can’t do anything. Sure, he’s struggled to shoot the ball, but not because he doesn’t have the requisite touch. When he takes his jumper, it falls. What rookie doesn’t struggle with consistency and discipline?

And indeed, the show-stopping skill has arrived as promised. Albeit in bits and pieces, but still, pretty damn big bits and pieces. There were bumps in the road and there will be more, but even disrespectful defenders have a tough time keeping Scoot in front. He works around ball-screens — even those set by Ayton — like a veteran, mixing in patience with the signature explosion and handle that make the whole experience worth it.

Here’s a boring conclusion: Scoot Henderson is mostly just living the life of a young NBA point guard. His defense is nothing to write home about, fairly competitive on the ball but sleepy off of it. He’ll laze into an upright stance, preceding a late rotation or a non-threatening closeout. So, rookie stuff.

Still, this is a lot of rookie stuff for such a touted point-guard prospect, no matter how young he is. Do we have to recalibrate our expectations for Scoot after going #3 overall threw them out of wack, or should we be worried? There are not just undeniable positives from his first four months in the league, but growth too. Is it appropriate to pounce on them, or is it grasping for straws, being too lenient on a player who has struggled mightily in his rookie season?

For now, worry is a bridge too far. But a healthy mix of concern and intrigue? Nervous excitement? That sounds more like it.

The post The Scoot Report: Checking in on the NBA’s Premier Point Guard Prospect appeared first on Swish Theory.

This is not one of those articles. The basketball world just saw Trayce Jackson-Davis follow up a strong outing against the Portland Trail Blazers with 29 minutes of shot-blocking, rebounding, rim-running excellence against the Boston Celtics on national television. So did his teammates and coaching staff; in postgame, Steve Kerr stated Jackson-Davis will be a consistent part of his rotation going forward, while Klay Thompson gave the rookie a new nickname:

Forget finding a role, Trayce Jackson-Davis just found one in front of the whole country.

So, I’m not exactly breaking news here. But in fairness, we tried to tell you. Our Charlie Cummings had this to say the day after the Dubs selected TJD late in the second round: “A clear path to a rotation spot, great value, and an experienced winning player on a cheap multi-year deal. What else could you want from the 57th pick?”

What was that clear path to a rotation spot Charlie identified so accurately? It started with Jackson-Davis being, by far, the most athletic Golden State big, the strongest interior presence on both ends of the court. Unlike the increasingly limited Kevon Looney and the perimeter-oriented Dario Šarić, TJD is a fearsome rim-runner, the first one the Warriors have employed in some time.

Not only is he an alley-oop partner for Chris Paul off the bench, but he’s already a consistent beneficiary of Steph Curry and Klay Thompson drawing two defenders (they tend to do that):

TJD is 6’9″ with a 7’1″ wingspan, can finish with either hand and has good but not extraterrestrial leaping ability. So, he’s not prime Dwight Howard, but he’s a legitimate threat. That’s more than enough when playing with the Splash Brothers.

See, we’re not totally past simple, positional math. Trayce plays the 5, so he’s guarded by the opposing 5, in this case Al Horford. When Trayce screens for Klay Thompson here, Horford jumps at the all-time great shooter, who hits his lefty big on a roll to the basket. The only thing that stands between the Warriors rookie and two points not a center, but Derrick White, one of the great rim-protecting guards the NBA has seen, but still just 6’4″. Jackson-Davis finishes right over the top:

TJD makes it look easy — and for him, it might be — but his fellow bigs aren’t able to take full advantage of the looks the Splash Bros create. Better yet, the lefty’s ability to finish at the rim may be the jelly to Golden State’s peanut butter, but the sandwich comes with a side.

On the very next possession, the Warriors flow into an identical action. Jackson-Davis hands it off to Thompson, who hits his rook right back on the roll. Derrick White is prepared though, and meets TJD with the proper respect, but it hardly matters because Jackson-Davis is already hitting a cutter for an easy layup:

This comes as no surprise, as the Indiana University product was dropping dimes consistently in Bloomington:

TJD’s lack of playing time to start the season infuriated many Warriors fans, and it’s easy to see why. The 23-year-old hasn’t exactly added many new skills, and his existing ones have translated predictably. In the words of excellent Warriors writer Joe Viray: “He’s a fundamentally sound screener who can make things immediately difficult for defenders at the point of attack; he’s nimble and mobile enough to force defenders to have to make quick decisions; his athleticism and above-the-rim capabilities make him a credible finishing threat.”

All of that was certainly on the pre-draft scouting report — and hey, it’s why the Warriors picked him — as Viray continues: “On a team that currently goes to the rim at the lowest rate among 30 teams…Jackson-Davis is an infusion of new possibilities the Warriors have yet to explore this season.”

TJD doesn’t have to be perfect to create the rim pressure the Dubs have been missing this season. And he’s not. He’s still learning how to time his rolls to the rim; on this one, a potential lob is erased because Jackson-Davis is simply too slow getting out of his screen and then doesn’t sprint to the rim…

…but his mere existence on the court makes up for the occasional rookie mistake. Jackson-Davis loves to sprint the floor in transition, and is tough for his matchups to keep up with. That creates a cascading effect here, where Horford lags behind the youngster, forcing Jayson Tatum to respect a rim-running threat. Thus, Tatum is poorly positioned to recover to Jonathan Kuminga, who catches the ball with an immediate advantage to drive to the rim (where he smokes a finger-roll):

This is TJD’s appeal, an ability to create pressure on the rim both in traditional settings, like your standard pick-and-roll, or in chaos: Golden State’s movement offense or transition. Hopefully, we see some more of this too:

The best part of that play? Jackson-Davis was slightly late in rotating over to the rim; Brown hit the paint before he did. Yet, “late for the help, early for the poster” did not apply here. Rim protectors are afforded leeway when they possess the athletic gifts Jackson-Davis does — a well-positioned rim protector who can’t jump is little more than an oversized traffic cone. Once again, TJD doesn’t have to be the perfect rookie to impact this Warriors roster; he just has to be himself.

Thanks to his fluidity at 6’9″, Jackson-Davis hasn’t just shown potential as a help-side rim protector, but when playing drop defense as well. His hips are much quicker, his feet much more nimble than his counterparts in Šarić and Looney, and thus, he can play closer to the level of the screen while giving up little on the back-end. He is not Brook Lopez, whose size and strength repel drivers from the rim and erase offensive-rebounding opportunities, nor is he Draymond Green, whose anticipation and hands allow him to play between two attackers seamlessly.

Yet, over the last two games, Jackson-Davis has made it clear he’s not going to bleed points as the last line of defense for the Dubs. Here, he meets deadly pull-up shooter Anfernee Simons outside the paint but is unmoved by Simons’ crossover, forcing the explosive guard to take a sweeping lefty hook, which DeAndre Ayton ultimately puts back:

This play results in another bucket, but the process and movement skills are undeniable. TJD meets Jayson Tatum at the arc, who throws an in-n-out at the young big. Jackson-Davis closes then opens his hips instantly to stick with Tatum, who burrows into his chest. Jackson-Davis remains straight up through the contact, not fouling and forcing a tough floater that bangs in off the backboard:

The rookie beats one of the NBA’s best drivers to the spot, avoids fouling, and contests a tough floater that really had little business falling. Jackson-Davis has put a lot of positives on tape in his last two games, seemingly earning him a spot in the rotation after 47 minutes of play resulted in 24 points, 21 boards, and four blocks on 11-16 shooting. Yet, that defensive rep on an MVP candidate might be the most telling play he made. This dude is going to be just fine.

The case for TJD the NBA Draft prospect was not hard to make. He could move, he could pass, he could score around the rim, and he displayed those qualities in spades during four seasons at Indiana. Unfortunately, the case against him was obvious as well, and 29 NBA teams bought it, some of them twice: 6’9″, couldn’t shoot, and four seasons at Indiana.

Yet, it’s that first batch of qualities that’s shining through in The Bay. Jackson-Davis is 6’9″, perhaps undersized for a big, but he’s a bouncy, active 6’9″ with long arms, ambidextrous finishing touch, and fearlessness as a shot-blocker. And hey, it doesn’t matter if you can’t shoot when your shots are dunks and layups.

Trayce Jackson-Davis fits like a glove on the Golden State Warriors. But that’s not news, is it?

The post Finding a Role: Trayce Jackson-Davis appeared first on Swish Theory.

Jalen Johnson was Atlanta’s second-leading scorer with 18 points, two of which came on this transition dunk around Embiid:

So yeah. Ordinary stuff.

Now in his third season, this is what Jalen Johnson does. Thrust into Atlanta’s starting lineup not by way of injury or space-clearing trade, but simply because he’s played too well to keep off the court, Johnson is averaging 15 points and eight rebounds in 30 minutes a night. And as you might expect from an über-athletic, 21-year-old wing, many of his buckets come in transition.

Readers, you think Trae Young likes playing with this guy?

Whether as a ball-handler or lane-filler, Johnson is a threat to finish any transition opportunity with a bang. His insertion into the starting lineup gives both Young and Dejounte Murray a partner in crime when pushing the pace, and Atlanta’s two lead guards have grown more and more daring when feeding Johnson on the run. Why wouldn’t they?

The ex-Blue Devil is a tremendously malleable athlete. He doesn’t mind jumping off one foot or two, trying to go through contact or around it, with a runway or off a standstill, or finishing with the off-hand. Johnson simply takes the most efficient route to the rim, often above it. He is a career 76% finisher inside the restricted area, per Basketball Reference, and while that career has only spanned ~1500 minutes, a number that will double by the end of this season, did you see what I just said? Seventy-six percent!

Take a transition dunk like this:

Murray leads most other players too far with that pass, but not Johnson. He lunges from the 3-point arc to the first hash mark in one step, then dunks the ball on his next. The freakiest part may be how easy he makes it looks.

Here’s an entirely different type of finish, but one that’s just as impressive. It comes in a half-court setting, where Johnson picks up an o-board, then hop-steps into a floater. In the process, the young wing pinballs off two defenders, first on the hop-step, then on the finish. Yet, neither bit of contact throws him off balance, as he finishes what should probably be an and-one:

Much of this, though, is not new. Sure, Johnson is more comfortable and stronger on the court in his third season, but being a deadly finisher at the rim has always been the foundation of his appeal, particularly as a teammate of Trae Young. This season, however, he’s filling in the rest of his game with some predictable skills, and others that may catch the uninitiated by surprise.

For the former, I’m talking about long-range shooting, of course. It’s early, but Johnson is hitting 44.1% of his threes, up from just 29% last season. I’d bet the farm he won’t finish the year in the 40s, but he does look much more comfortable as a shooter, willing to let them go even off slight movement:

Playing next to two high-usage guards in Young and Murray leaves little choice for Johnson; he’s gotta take (and make enough of) his open looks. And while there’s still some hiccups for the 2021 first-round pick in this regard — his courage is often determined by the result of his previous attempt — it’s so much easier to give Johnson 36 minutes of tick when he’s letting it fly like this.

Now that defenders have to respect the Hawks’ youngest starter, it gives Johnson the opportunity to attack closeouts and get to his bread-and-butter, served at the rim. A tale as old as time:

However the quality that’s always surprised, the quality that stirred grinning curiosity among draft prognosticators is Johnson’s passing. As a high-flying prospect, he was known for, well, what you’d expect. Dunk after dunk, with flashes of advanced shot-making and footwork inside the arc. But those who watched closely, even prior to his days at Duke, were delighted by dimes like this:

That’s continued during his burst onto the scene this season. Johnson’s passing follows the same fun formula as his finishing. Need to throw a routine bounce-pass? Fine. Need to cradle the ball off a live dribble and throw a laser across the baseline with the left? Sure:

Johnson’s passing ability has translated into the half-court as well, and we’re seeing glimpses of a connective passing style that is eminently desirable next to more ball-dominant players:

Johnson has the physical ability to make any pass, with the court-vision and understanding of defensive weak points to see them too. I’m especially intrigued by his capabilities as a roll-man. We know he can catch lobs when diving to the basket, and if he’s on the short-roll, the help defense can’t be late to the party unless they want to end up on a poster. That’ll lead to 2-on-1 situations like the below, which Johnson’s already shown a penchant for exploiting:

Whether on the perimeter or as a roll-man, patterns will become clear. There are only so many ways for a defense to guard a high pick-and-roll, and only so many ways for Johnson to see it from the corners. At just two assists a game, his passing output hasn’t matched the flashes, but the 21-year-old brings an undeniable connective juice to Atlanta’s starting lineup.

We’ll close with Johnson’s vastly improved defense, probably the reason — along with a greater willingness to shoot the three-ball — Hawks Head Coach Quin Snyder felt comfortable yanking Saddiq Bey from the starting lineup for him. The 6’8″ wing has shown two high-level skills on that end: sliding his feet, and tracking the ball. Here he is bodying up to Tyrese Maxey, completely unmoved by a series of head-fakes before swatting the ball out-of-bounds:

Johnson will still swipe at the ball on the perimeter, a habit that he’s wisely cut down on this season, but it’s almost always of his own accord. In other words, all the head-fakes and hesitations in the world won’t convince him to reach. He picks and chooses his spots, so fake-heavy isolations like Maxey’s above rarely shift Johnson. He’s guarding positions 1-4, and not in the half-ass way where the 1s aren’t shifty and the 4s are like, Dorian Finney-Smith (who’s playing great ball by the way)!

You see the agility above, and here’s the strength. Johnson bodies up to Julius Randle, is unmoved by a physical post-up, then forces the lefty into a tough, well-contested fadeaway:

Johnson’s three blocks against the Sixers brought his block-rate to 1.9%, an elite mark for non-centers that’s also in line with his career averages. Throw in strong rebounding at his position, and there’s no glaring weakness in Johnson’s D, certainly not one that would keep him off the floor.

Subpar screen navigation may hamper his ability to stick to the Tyrese Maxeys of the world for extended stretches of game-time, but that’s a small blip on the progress of his Year Three. When the Hawks faced the Oklahoma City Thunder, Quin Snyder entrusted Johnson with the Shai Gilgeous-Alexander matchup when Dejounte Murray sat. Six-eight 21-year-olds that can reasonably slide their feet with SGA on one night, then provide rebounding and shot-blocking value on another don’t come in bunches.

Johnson is not a perfect defender at this juncture — a pedestrian 2.2 deflections / 36 minutes is unbecoming of a player with his physical tools — he’s a bit static as a help defender on the perimeter. Like many young players, Johnson often seems consciously focused on tracking the ball and his man, determined not to lose either, rather than playing instinctual, athletic defense. Ball-handlers should be terrified of a Jalen Johnson stunt or dig, not breezing past whatever these are:

This is not a fatal flaw, of course, and certainly something that should improve. Johnson also has to curtail his turnovers on the offensive end, currently at two a game., rarely the result of wayward passes but often indecision on the perimeter (e.g. traveling on the catch, getting ripped when over-dribbling.) These current worries don’t detract from Johnson’s potential; hell, they aren’t even diminishing his current production.

Jalen Johnson is far from a finished product. He’s prone to getting stuck on a screen and coughing up the rock. But at 6’8″, he runs the floor like a deer, and can contort his body into any position needed to dunk the ball, fire a pass, stick to his man, or block a shot. He’s even shooting the three this season.

Still just 21 years old, Johnson’s ceiling is far from defined, and it’s easy to get starry-eyed trying to find it. But we shouldn’t ignore what the third-year man is doing right now. In a ten-point loss against Philly, Johnson was a +3 while scoring 18 points, grabbing ten boards, blocking three shots, and dishing two assists. He didn’t turn the ball over either.

A dozen games into the season, that’s now par for the course for Johnson, and it’s why Quin Snyder had no choice but to insert him into the starting lineup as one of Atlanta’s clear-cut five best players. On some nights, he’s better than that.

Jalen Johnson is finding a role for the Atlanta Hawks, and it’s easy to see why.

The post Finding a Role: Jalen Johnson appeared first on Swish Theory.

The eyes of the basketball world are trained on the Finals. Obviously. And we all have the same 48 minutes of game-tape to analyze and over-analyze. So, unique observations, at this point in the season, are few and far between – with that said, here are a couple of Game Two tidbits I found to be both interesting and key to a Heat victory.

Zone Defense

Ah yes, the infamous Miami zone vs. Denver’s unstoppable offense. Whether you believe zone defense at the NBA-level is an affront to professional sports or not, this was a matchup hyped up by the nerdiest among us. The Heat have played the most zone defense in the NBA in both this regular season and post-season. Zone is part of their Dark Magic, concocted in Pat Riley’s sunken living room.

Denver meanwhile…well, I’ll just borrow the words from CBS Sports writer Jack Maloney: “In the regular season, [the Nuggets] were second in the league in zone offense, scoring 1.156 points per possession, and in the playoffs that mark has jumped to a stunning 1.385 points per possession.”

This is less of a mystery, of course. The Nuggets are led by a lab-designed zone-buster, a 7-foot-tall wizard with soft hands, sharp vision, and a lethal mid-range jump-shot. Step one: Put that guy in the middle of your zone offense. Step Two: Profit! This, prior to the series, was much of the discussion around Miami’s zone defense and how Denver might counter it: “Well, they have Nikola Jokic, so, yeah.”

While excellent analysis, that misses one thing: The Heat do not play your run-of-the-mill zone. When you hear “zone defense” in the NBA, you imagine a red-faced head coach so perturbed by his team’s effort that he says “[expletive] this, just play some 2-3. You guys remember that from high school, right?” Well, that is not Erik Spoelstra and the Heat.

Spo’s squad change their zone, seemingly, from possession to possession, but a principle often prevails. Deny dribble penetration in the middle without sacrificing corner threes. How? Have your weak-side guards flock to the ball-side, no matter where they are. An obvious but difficult challenge, one that places heavy onus on the wings of the operation. Here’s a possession from the first half of Game Two, one that ends with an Aaron Gordon three:

That’s an outcome that the Heat will surely take. Rather than have Jamal Murray fire up a corner 3-pointer, a below average shooter in Gordon is taking one, lightly contested. That play exhibits the general structure the Heat rely on when going zone in these playoffs, specifically vs. Denver’s bench units.

But in the fourth quarter, they trotted out a zone agains Nikola Jokic & co., and boy did it make my brain hurt. Well, me and the Nuggets:

Gabe Vincent does a hell of a job fronting Jokic in the first clip, which was the tenet of Miami’s zone concepts in the fourth quarter. On a subsequent possession, Denver decides to let Jokic handle it up top, a much easier path to getting the ball in his hands. Welp, that results in Vincent applying extreme ball pressure and forcing a (questionable) charge.

What even is that zone? I’m damn near tempted to call it the world’s strangest-looking box-and-one, though in reality it’s more of a 2-1-2 where the ‘1’ is interchangeable. Just take a look at this possession, where Caleb Martin and Vincent switch the Jokic assignment mid-possession:

Zone defense, once you get past the high school level, is polarizing. And I get the argument; it feels almost cheap to remove the sanctity of guarding your man and taking pride in shutting him down from defense. “That ain’t basketball at its purest,” the detractors shout. But even the haters have to admit it’s a beautiful thing to watch the Heat maintain their core principles no matter what kind of funky zone they’re throwing out there.

Here, the Nuggets get creative with it, and screen for Jokic after he catches it off an inbounds, but the Heat snuff it out:

If any other team had the otherworldly gall to play zone against Nikola Jokic and the Nuggets, then their center certainly would’ve stepped up on that creative ball-screen from Denver. But Bam Adebayo and the Heat scoff at the notion. Why, so Jokic and Gordon can essentially run their famous inverted pick-and-roll? Or so Jokic can hit a devious back-cutter as the rim protector vacates the area? Nope. Erik Spoelstra’s guards are going to prevent dribble penetration – even when Jokic is on the floor, whether that means fronting him or not – and his wings are going to handle their business (although Kyle Lowry’s job here is admittedly made easier by Jimmy Butler’s recovery.)

I’ll say it. It’s a treat to watch the Miami Heat play zone defense, even on the biggest stage. Especially against one of the most fearsome zone-busters this game has ever known.

One more thing, really quick. As important as Miami’s zone defense was (a huge reason the Nuggets’ offense hovered around a pedestrian 111 offensive rating with Jokic on the court), their outside shooting was far more crucial. 49% from deep on 35 attempts? On the road? Especially when, per Cleaning the Glass, a minuscule 14% of their shots came inside the restricted area, meaning they were entirely reliant on jump-shooting? As boring as this may sound, there cannot be an explanation for Miami’s victory that doesn’t start with, “They shot the hell out of the rock.”

There are a few reasons why that happened, other than the pure shot-making talent 8-seeds are now dripping with. I tweeted a cut-up of all their 3-point attempts…

…and surmised, among other things, that the Heat successfully targeted Michael Porter Jr and Jamal Murray. You can draw your own conclusions, but it’s clear that Miami challenged those two to talk through countless screening actions and make long closeouts. Neither one did either task successfully. Aside from Bruce Brown, perhaps, the whole Denver squad was sloppy rotating and closing out to shooters. There’s a reason Jeff Green and Head Coach Mike Malone each ripped their team’s effort in postgame pressers.

But, to give the Heat some credit here, I thought they forced sloppy closeouts and missed rotations by paying careful attention to their spacing. Miami’s shooters consistently spaced multiple feet beyond the arc, and it caused problems for the Nuggets. Roll the tape:

Spacing farther away from the line not only creates longer closeouts for defenders, many of which various Nuggets botched repeatedly in their Game Two defeat. It also creates more opportunities for shooters to move without the ball – I don’t mean sprinting around screens like Steph Curry, the most commonly recognized form of off-ball-movement.

Rather, I’m talking about the art of subtly relocating, an art that Miami’s role players have perfected: Just look at Max Strus in that first clip. Relocating along the perimeter is about reading two players at once, and instinctually moving to a spot that makes the defender’s job harder but the passer’s job easier. Stus & co. did a great job of that in Game Two, and it was the cherry on top of a…Poop Sundae for Denver’s defenders. When the Nuggets weren’t busy closing out to shooters recklessly and jumping at every ball-fake, they were losing their assignments before then, unaware of perimeter relocations.

Yes, the Miami Heat shot the lights out, and that is the reason they were able to tie the series against the rightfully favored Nuggets. But don’t lose sight of the fact that Erik Spoelstra’s squad did all the little things right, executing their offensive and defensive game-plan on Sunday night. Whether they were setting up 3-point bombs or falling back into zone defense, the Heat certainly sweat the small stuff in Game Two. And it was beautiful to watch.

The post Heat in the Zone: How Miami Locked in to Take Game 2 appeared first on Swish Theory.

Taking AD off of Jokic is also the rare tactic that straddles the line between effective and overly simplistic. There are clear benefits to allowing Davis, a Hall-of-Fame rim protector, to, well, protect the rim. For stretches, it has absolutely worked in this series, keeping Davis out of foul trouble and stymieing Denver’s spacing. Combine that with its aforementioned obviousness, and you’re gonna get fans pleading for Darvin Ham to make the adjustment, then patting themselves on the back when he does. But not in the way that such fans (or even writers like myself) may plead for Steph Curry to run 50 pick-and-rolls a game, then celebrating when he runs a successful one. There are limits to reason.

So, you have an inherently noticeable tactic that the Lakers deployed towards the end of Game One and frequently went to in Game Two, occasionally to positive results. It’s easy to see why deploying AD as a roamer has been the story of the series so far; it’s easy to see why Michael Malone has made some quips about it too. But there’s something even more plain, even more significant happening on the court, perhaps the reason the team up 2-0 in the series has won those two games: The Lakers are not scoring against Nikola Jokic in the pick-and-roll.

Worse yet, the Lakers haven’t set themselves up to crash the offensive glass either, especially in Game Two. This hasn’t been a typical defensive series from Denver in regards to defending the PnR, with Jokic playing at the level. Instead, he’s largely bee playing drop, with aggressive, almost disrespectful gap help from his supporting Nuggs:

Some tactical analysis goes out the window here. Jamal Murray, Bruce Brown, and Kentavious Caldwell-Pope’s screen navigation thus far? Good! Lakers wings and guard shooting thus far? Bad! For the series, Los Angeles is shooting just over 30% on above-the-break 3-pointers, a mark they couldn’t even clear on Thursday night.

Denver employing this strategy to great success in Game 2 did more than just discourage L.A.’s guards from getting downhill, as they saw a see of blue when peering into the paint. The were able to keep Jokic nestled under the glass, ready to battle AD, which contributed to the Lakers rebounding just 11.1% of their misses. For context, that was L.A.’s second-lowest ORB% of the whole season, which has comprised 96 total games.

There were some glimpses of faulty gap help from various Nuggets, highlighting how imperative their early help is. Just as much as it is a physical battle, forcing the Lakers to drive through a crowd, it is a mental one too: Discourage them from trying altogether. Here, Murray is late to get to the nail, and LeBron revs it up for the easiest two he’s seen all series:

The simplest answer for L.A. would be to make some damn shots. #Analysis. But really, how else are you supposed to stop defenders cheating off you from just one pass away? Another answer would be to space closer to the arc, ‘stampeding’ on the catch, which is to say catching the swing pass already in motion towards the basket. In the first set of clips, LBJ is spacing about five feet behind the line with no hope of creating the downhill pressure a high ball-screen hopes to initiate. Look to see that as an early focus for the Lakers in Game Three.

Their immediate fixes to the heavy gap help Denver displayed in Game Two was to run fully spread-PnR from the top of the key, with a potential third spacer in the dunker spot. For a split second, this seemed to be a solution. Jokic reverted back to trapping the ball-handler, and Anthony Davis, now playing 4-on-3, got an And-1 bucket over the resultant help defense:

That panacea didn’t last long, however. Just as the Nuggets had disrespected the L.A.’s shooters, they continued to play Jokic in drop coverage, daring Davis to hit the shots off the short roll that turned Jokic into an MVP (first clip), or daring LeBron to, at age 38 on one foot, get all the way downhill, now having to navigate an extra defender parked near the dunker sport (second clip):

To me, this is the story for the (potentially short) remainder of this series. Hachimura guarding Jokic is cute and all, but the Serbian supernova is figuring out that he just has to shoot over Rui, and with each passing game, his surrounding Nuggets will figure out their spots on the floor. Even if they don’t, though, it won’t matter if Los Angeles’ half court offensive rating is around 90.

Attacking the two-time MVP in the pick-and-roll was supposed to be his kryptonite, Denver’s kryptonite. Even with Jokic’s gradual defensive improvements in his career, he was thought to be best suited playing at the level of the screen, trapping or aggressively hedging against ball-handlers. How, then, could Denver survive by scrambling all the time, often defending four players with three frantic dudes? And how valuable is defensive rebounding if you start every play 25 feet from the basket?

Well, in this Western Conference Finals, none of that appears to be an issue for the Nuggets. In Game Two, Mike Malone comfortably dropped his superstar back in the paint, watched him gobble up 17 rebounds, watched his guards fight viciously over screens, and enjoyed brick after brick from the Lakers. It’s up to the purple and gold to figure out how to attack what was supposed to be the exploitable weakness of the Wester Conference’s best team. They haven’t yet. And if they don’t, this may be a shorter series than we were all hoping for.

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Yes, AD’s defense was the takeaway from Game One, to film-watchers, to casuals, even to nationally televised talking heads. (Even while, by the way, scoring 30 points.) Accumulating four highlight-level blocks will do that. But all that well-deserved praise for Davis’ defense may still not be enough –  the degree to which he warped the floor vs. the Dubs cannot be overstated. Lakers’ defenders were practically escorting various Warriors to the paint, knowing they had AD behind them. And I don’t just mean, say, icing ball screens and funneling ball-handlers away from the middle of the court. Look at D’Angelo Russell allowing Steph Curry a whole side of the floor on Davis’ final, game-saving block:

This is what the Warriors are contending with, likely the main thrust for the remainder of this series. How the hell can they pull AD away from the paint, or work for shots that aren’t under the threat of being sent into the third row?

They’re going to have to get creative, particularly because they can’t truly run a five-out offense, or at least one with five spacers on the floor. It’s not just that Davis can disregard Draymond Green and/or Kevon Looney in help, although he certainly can to great effect – just look at the above block. Of perhaps greater import is Davis sagging off those two when they have the ball at the top of the key, looking to initiate offense. Of course, many have done the same, but AD’s special blend of length and mobility turn things up a notch:

As seen above, Lakers defenders aggressively top-locked various Warriors in Game One without fear of getting back-cut to the rim. Even while “guarding” the ball, Davis is waiting for cutters in the lane. Dribble-handoffs, then, simply aren’t an option, and it’s not like challenging AD in the mid-range or at the rim is a preferable alternative. But, even when the Dubs did get into handoffs or pick-and-rolls, Davis wasn’t sagging back in the paint, but rather playing much closer to the level:

To that end, the Lakers, Dennis Schroder and Jarred Vanderbilt in particular, did an excellent job of getting over screens in Game One, as seen above. It also helps that Davis doesn’t have to worry about the screener rolling to the rim and catching a lob because, well, is there a Warrior that can do that?

This all made it an absolute treat to watch Steve Kerr figure out how to produce quality shots in the midst of Davis’ singularity. Sound on:

So, while AD did stroll into the Chase Center and threw a haymaker, the Warriors did figure out how to land some counterpunches. Kerr went away from Green-Looney lineups as the game progressed, which will likely continue as the series wears on, stretching out the court and allowing Golden State to play faster. That came to fruition in the 14-0 run they went on toward the end of the fourth quarter, nearly snatching a win from the jaws of defeat. The Dubs, as they always are, are coming.

This brings me to the LeBron James question. As the Warriors gradually space the floor and make Davis just a little uncomfortable on defense, stretching him out as much as they can, LBJ’s secondary rim protection becomes even more vital. The last time L.A. made it this far in the postseason, it was The Bubble, and LeBron played at an All-Defense level alongside AD’s generational level. It propelled the 2020 Lakers to all-time-great-playoff-defense status. How much of that juice can The King conjure up this time around?

In Game One, there were fantastic signs, plays that flashed back to The Bubble, where Davis would construct the fort and Bron would detail it:

There were also plays where LeBron would revert to regular season mode, getting back-cut or, more importantly, failing to make a backline rotation when the Warriors successfully pulled Davis out of the paint:

Anthony Davis is going to shoulder an enormous defensive load in this series, there’s no two ways about it. And, if Game One was any indication, he’ll do it phenomenally. Steve Kerr and Golden State will adjust, however; they’ll scheme up ways to mess with Davis, whether avoiding him entirely or sneaking behind him to get to the rim. This is where the defense of LeBron James comes into the equation. It feels silly to question him, but it also feels silly to dismiss the notion that, particularly on one good foot, he won’t be able to be the secondary rim protector that the Lakers need, the force that has made their defense so dominant in the past.

Yes, a Game One is often a feel-out, and Tuesday night’s Lakers-Warriors contest was no different. But it taught us a lot about how the rest of this hugely anticipated series is going to go, what and who to look out for. Thursday night should be a blast.

The post Anthony Davis Is Undeniable, but the Lakers Will Need More appeared first on Swish Theory.

There has not since been a men’s college basketball team as electrifying as their 2016-17 Wildcats, also featuring Bam Adebayo. Thanks to Fox and Monk sprinting the ball up the floor on every possession, UK played at a breakneck pace that thrust some classic battles upon us. Lonzo Ball went into Rupp Arena, amidst all the Ball v. Fox hype of the 2017 NBA draft cycle, and shushed the crowd in a 97-92 UCLA win. Three months later, Fox hung 39 on his head to knock UCLA out of the NCAA Tournament. There was also the time Monk dropped 47(!) on UNC in a 103-100(!!) win in late December. Yet, three months later, Luke Maye got it back in blood, hitting his famous buzzer beater to send Kentucky home in an Elite 8 all-timer.

Fox sat in the locker room after that loss, hugging Adebayo and sobbing during an interview. That intimate moment, where Fox continually repeats how much he loves his guys, is one of the more touching moments college basketball has produced, for me, and emblematic of what made that Kentucky team so magnetic. Monk punched air and screamed after every big play, whether by him or a teammate. Fox, whose competitiveness was a tad more reserved, showing up in ways like guarding Ball full-court in their matchups, would only join Monk in outward celebration during their most euphoric moments. The many that argued that college basketball was losing its soul in a one-and-done era nearing the creation of NIL clearly weren’t watching Fox and Monk at Kentucky.

The reunion of De’Aaron Fox and Malik Monk in Sacramento isn’t just one of this postseason’s best storylines because it feels nice, though. They’re hooping. The same two hair-raising athletes that arrived in Kentucky when Kevin Durant arrived in Golden State are now looking to drive a stake through the heart of a basketball dynasty. You grow up fast.

The league’s best regular season offense has an ORTG of only 111.9 over their first four games against the Warriors, just a 40th percentile mark. However, when Fox and Monk share the court, that number balloons to 121.7 without much defensive slippage. (Monk in particular has some ridiculous on/off splits, SAC’s offense has been 18 points/100 better with him. 18!)  Overall, Fox/Monk lineups have played just fewer than half of this series’ possessions, but are out-scoring the Dubs by nearly nine points/100. 

Some of this is due to the non-Monk Kings, particularly Kevin Huerter and Harrison Barnes, missing just about every 3-pointer they take. But Monk’s only shooting a mediocre 35% from deep against the Dubs himself. In a beautiful, full-circle moment, the questions Fox and Monk have answered from their Kentucky days has turned them into a dynamic, complementary backcourt, one that Sacramento is depending on.

Monk has always been an explosive athlete with outside shooting touch, the question for him was if he could turn those skills into halfcourt creation reps. The perennial demand of his archetype: Can he slow down and incorporate some craft into his game? The answer, clearly, is yes.

The fun part about Monk’s growth as a creator is not that he’s overhauled his offensive game, rather the opposite. By playing with varied pace and then refining the details of that pace – screen usage as a guard, eye manipulation, etc. – Monk allows his athleticism and touch to shine, and now we’re wowed again.

The screen usage, specifically, is popping vs. Golden State. At this rate, there may not be a more feared screen rejector in the league by the start of next season. Monk has seemingly rejected as many ball-screens as he’s actually, you know, used in this series, but the results have been fantastic.

Fantastic…and fun! Cross-spin, pound-cross, killer cross, Monk is cooking the only way he knows how. Yet, as those clips evidence, Golden State can’t throw their best perimeter defender on the court, whoever that may be at the time, on him. Why? Well, that guy has to worry about De’Aaron Fox.

Fox always did and still does face questions as an outside shooter, and therefore, an off-ball player. But his 32% mark from deep on the year belies the quality of shooter he’s really turned into. Forget the Game 2 dagger to give the Kings a late, insurmountable 107-101 after being 1-9 from deep up to that point. How about standing up to a vintage Steph Curry bomb with a catch-and-shoot off of, of course, a Monk drive-and-kick:

Fox and Monk are now largely interchangeable, or at least capable, as offensive creators and spacers. Late in the first quarter of Game 4, Andrew Wiggins was guarding Fox, forcing Moses Moody to knuckle up and stay in front of Monk. He, somewhat predictably, could not avoid the inevitability of Monk successfully rejecting a screen. Meanwhile, on the weak side, Fox slyly lifted from the corner to the wing, creating a more open but more functionally difficult pass for Monk to make off of his drive. He made it anyway:

Fox and Monk have each done the work to make this backcourt work once again, this time in an NBA setting, six years later, without even knowing it. This is, after all, Monk’s first season in SacTown, and each of their first playoff appearances. Not only have they covered the holes in their games, but they’ve covered each other too, allowing for more classic Fox and Monk magic.

With the ex-Wildcats, the Kings can push the ball up court with either one, just like we saw at Kentucky. Having two speedy ball-handlers on the court, rather than just one release valve, makes a world of difference for Sacramento.

• Transition points/100, total: 106.6
• Transition points/100 (Fox/Monk minutes): 126.7

In transition, the fellas play the classics. Here, Fox sprints the ball up court, even after the Kings have to take the ball out of the net. No problem. He collapses the defense severely on his jaunt toward the paint, and the Warriors are out of whack immediately in the possession, to the point where nobody notices Monk relocating along the perimeter. Well, nobody besides Fox:

This isn’t (just) small sample size theatrics, or a case of streaky shooting from Monk. He and his point-guard-for-life have developed into such a cohesive backcourt that they are not only working on an NBA floor, a thought that would’ve brought a tear to my eye six years ago, but they might be Sacramento’s best answer for the defending champions. Of course, things aren’t all rosy in the City of Trees. Fox, in a monumental Game 5, plans on playing through an avulsion fracture in his dominant index finger. Monk, for all his chaotic brilliance in this series to date, dipped into some poor, old habits late in Game 4 by being a little overzealous early in the shot-clock and kamikaze-ing Kings possessions. Head Coach Mike Brown alluded to it in his post-game presser after Game 4, saying his guys were “driving into two, sometimes three guys, in transition and begging for a call, and we can’t continue to do that.”

Regardless, what Fox and Monk are doing in Sacramento must be appreciated, even if their season may be as little as two days away from over. Their Kentucky days, which will live on in highlights and quick winks to the real NBA fans for knowing they existed, were so much more than just that. Their Sacramento days are becoming the perfect epilogue to that era. As basketball players, their improvements have made this pairing possible once again; their current synergy is deeper than it was, improved in the ways that every 19-year-old hopes to improve in by the time they’re 25. They can no longer be pigeon-holed, limited to specific functions; their relationship is fuller, more complex and meaningful because of it. Kings basketball has been dripping in that incalculable ‘something special’ all season long, and for it, they owe a big thank you to De’Aaron Fox and Malik Monk. As basketball fans, so do we.

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