The 2023 NBA Draft is chock-full of talented and versatile wings with unfavorable shooting projections. Let’s take a look at some historical examples of non-shooting wings who stuck in the NBA, and see if we can generate a blueprint for finding offensive success in that archetype.
Of all the position groups in the loaded 2023 Draft, the quality and depth of toolsy wings with promising secondary skills has a case for the strongest. Looking for a world-class athlete with wing stopper upside and improving perimeter skill? Ausar Thompson is your guy. Want an even better wing athlete who intuitively approaches problems on both ends like a 5’9” point guard? His twin brother Amen fits the bill. Maybe you’re searching for a combo forward who can offer similar secondary rim protection and driving upside as the Thompsons, with added bulk to handle interior duties? Jarace Walker is perfect. And if you just want to bet on a young prospect with an outlier skill and projectable frame, Dillon Mitchell and Anthony Black offer outlines of exciting (though murky) star outcomes.
But between all of these players, one constant remains: none of them can shoot! There are certainly different degrees of bad shooters among this group, but none of them project to reach the level of shooting consistency necessary to draw hard closeouts. “If they shoot, they’ll be a steal!” is a common trope in draft coverage, and it’s easy to understand why — statements like this aren’t staking out much ground when applied to super-athletes tasked with filling out the only glaring hole in their games. Yes, Amen Thompson will be good if he shoots 35%+ from 3 on volume! Instead, “What if they don’t shoot?” is a much more nuanced and worthwhile question, and one that often goes unexplored.
The term “Non-shooting wing” just doesn’t sound right; shooting is central to the concept of the idealized offball wing. All the offensive responsibilities that are expected of offball wings today are either directly or indirectly impacted by their shooting:
A) maintaining space for creators via shooting gravity,
B) attacking advantages off the catch (often closeouts, which must be drawn in the first place, back to point A), and
C) finishing advantages — often by shooting a jumpshot.
This is no doubt an oversimplification of role, and category B on its own contains a host of different microskills and play types that suit wildly different kinds of players. Still, it bears repeating that a lack of shooting gravity on the wing completely undermines the integrity of the catch-22 that modern drive-and-kick offense is designed to create. So, how valuable is a player who bucks their own system? Is it worth the effort to fit a player who will always be a square peg into what will always be a round hole?
In these terms, non-shooting wings seem so fundamentally counter-intuitive that they can’t possibly be net positive offensive players in the NBA. And yet…over the course of NBA history, plenty have made it work! Though it certainly takes a special combination of ancillary offensive skills and defensive prowess, there’s a handful of players who’ve succeeded in this role – often similar only in key weakness, but wildly different in archetype.
So what can we take away from this special batch of outliers? That’s what this series is all about: detailing the development path, usage, and unique skills of the non-shooting wings who were able to carve out a career in the NBA, then applying that knowledge to the wings of the 2023 Draft.
*A quick disclaimer: the term “non-shooting” doesn’t leave much wiggle room, but for our purposes let’s define it as a player who isn’t a good enough shooter to draw a closeout in an NBA playoff setting. Some players we’ll cover won’t even come close to this threshold, while others will straddle it at points throughout their careers. I want to emphasize that we aren’t looking for 1:1 direct player comps to apply to the ‘23 wings; instead, I’ll aim to learn more about the different historical precedents to success as a NSW, and become familiar with the different tools and counters that these players use in order to stick in the league.
Introducing Boris
Boris Diaw’s career trajectory from lanky jumbo ball handler to stout connective big is one of the forgotten gems of recent development history. Billed as a shooting guard entering the 2003 Draft, his intersection of passing guile and positional versatility at 6’8”(7’3” wingspan!) drove his appeal as a 1st round prospect. He spent his formative years at 1st division French club Élan Béarnais, where he played an understandably modest role as a secondary creator. Even as a relatively low usage player, Diaw (#12/#13) flashed the impressive processing speed and ball skills that would go on to define his NBA career.
Although he would later garner a reputation as a limited athlete, Diaw’s leaner frame as a teenager made for some uncharacteristically loud athletic highlights. To those who are only familiar with him from his days in San Antonio, this nimble version Boris would be virtually unrecognizable. Still, it was clear from his pre-NBA tape that he didn’t possess the burst or handle to carry significant NBA creation burden as a guard. Most of his flashes of passing brilliance came when Diaw was operating off of an advantage, rather than getting downhill to generate one himself. Without these invaluable self-created paint touches, teams must find a different way to scheme players like Diaw into opportunities to facilitate against a tilted defense; this is then compounded by not being able to shoot well enough to draw hard closeouts. This problem would later become one of the driving conflicts of Diaw’s career.
After the Hawks selected Diaw 21st overall in the 2003 Draft, he struggled to get his career off the ground. Atlanta tried to use Diaw as an offball wing, used occasionally as a screener but rarely given ball handling or passing opportunities (11.4% and 15.5% USG in his 2 seasons as a Hawk). When non-shooting wings are haphazardly thrown in the corner, they siphon space away from the offense with their lack of gravity — this was the case with Diaw. He was treated like any other wing, cast aside as an afterthought and expected to mold around the Hawks’ established creators in Steven Jackson and Jason Terry.
This is a recipe for disaster when developing a player like Boris; prospects with unique flaws (15/76 from 3 as a Hawk) must be deployed intentionally with counter-measures that address their key weaknesses. Sticking Boris in the corner as a non-threat from 3 was never going to work out in Atlanta. To make non-shooting wings like Diaw work, you must find creative ways to utilize them within the flow of the offense in ways that hide their lack of shooting gravity, even on plays where they never touch the ball. This would go on to be one of the central themes of Diaw’s career arc.
Even with limited opportunities, Diaw (#32/#13) continued to flash his upside as a connective passer, especially when dicing up a bent defense:
After a rocky first 2 years in the league, Boris looked to be on a trajectory out of the NBA if something didn’t change quickly. But while the Hawks were struggling to provide a suitable developmental infrastructure for Diaw, the Phoenix Suns were revolutionizing basketball on the other side of the country.
Suns Tenure + Counters for Lack of Shooting Gravity
Diaw was traded to the Suns after his 2nd year in the league, and entered a cookie-cutter context for his set of skills. With Amar’e Stoudemire’s knee injury keeping him out of almost the entire 2005-06 season, the Suns had a gaping hole at power forward. The 6’8” Diaw, exclusively a perimeter player up to this point in his career, made an ambitious move to the 4 which opened up new paths for success and gave his development arc new life.
It’s important to remember that the duties of a power forward in 2005 are very different from the duties of a power forward in today’s game. In 2022, length, ground coverage and shooting range are no longer valuable add-ons at the position, but requirements. Gone are the days of bumbling 6’8” bruisers camping out in the dunkers spot (many 4s today are just taller wings!). In fact, If Diaw was a prospect in 2022, he likely would’ve been tagged as a power forward from the start. But in 2005, a player who had only averaged 5 rebounds/36 the season prior moving to power forward was seen as staunchly avant-garde.
So how did Diaw make it work?
Let’s revisit the questions posed earlier in the section: How can you hide a poor shooter most effectively while also leveraging their passing acumen? What are the other ways to manufacture some form of gravity for a non-shooter, other than simply giving them the ball and letting them drive 20x a game? Mike D’Antoni proposed a solution: Using Diaw as a high-volume screener, DHO operator, and touch passer.
At this junction in NBA history, Diaw was considered extremely lean for a power forward at 6’8”/215 lbs. He was a relatively poor screen setter and rebounder – his development as a perimeter-oriented player never put emphasis on improving these skills. His lack of vertical athleticism held him back as a roller, a stark contrast to Amar’e’s dynamism as a lob threat the year prior.
But the Suns didn’t have anyone better that season, and utilizing Diaw in this role was a compromise – deal with an athletically-limited primary roller, and reap the benefits of Diaw’s elite connective passing, grab-and-go offense, and secondary creation. Putting Boris in screening actions almost every possession minimized the time he spent in the corner, while also giving him opportunities to leverage his decision making and vision as a DHO operator and roller. Phoenix was throwing Diaw in teams’ faces, daring them to ignore him rolling to the rim the same way they did when he was spotted up in the corner. It was an imperfect solution to his lack of shooting gravity, but one that left Diaw a clear net positive on offense, able to stay on the floor for long stretches in a playoff series.
Even on possessions where Diaw (#3) didn’t make a flashy kickout or throw a pinpoint lob, simply giving him something to do was enough to keep him from negatively affecting the rest of the offense. While he doesn’t necessarily do anything special on this play, limiting the time Diaw spends sitting in the corner as a non-threat is vital to keeping him a tenable playoff player. These “net neutral” plays are key to making any non-shooting wing work in the half court.
Even in this particular clip, Diaw’s offensive feel manifests itself in a unique way. After handing the ball off, he initially positions himself as if the shooter intends to come off the screen to the right, before wisely flipping his hips at the last moment to seal off a lane to the left and fool the defender. Boris’ feel as a screen setter was a big asset for him in Phoenix and San Antonio.
There’s no doubt that Diaw left points on the board as a playfinisher, as his combination of poor vertical pop and timidness as a finisher made for many record scratch moments like this:
However, Boris was able to compensate for his limitations as a finisher with his flawless decision making. Diaw excelled as a short roll playmaker, routinely able to find open shooters from various angles, release points, and spots on the floor:
These reps are a good encapsulation of Diaw’s capabilities as a roller. A more explosive player might be able to finish over the help, but Boris is still able to create efficient shots for his teammates via his passing vision and roll gravity:
This unorthodox archetype of pass-first roller was one of the various parts of Diaw’s game that synergized perfectly with the Suns roster.
7SOL Suns
The 7 Seconds or Less Suns were perhaps the earliest glimpse of how the game is widely played today; in Diaw’s first season in Phoenix, the Suns led the league in pace, 3s attempted, and 3pt%, all by a wide margin. And while Steve Nash’s off-the-dribble shotmaking and pick-and-roll acumen were the foundations of the Suns offense, their group of rangy and versatile snipers on the wing provided the spacing necessary for Nash to operate. Between Raja Bell, Leandro Barbosa, and (46 games of) Tim Thomas, the Suns had 3 wings who all provided vastly different functionality on both sides of the court, but one thing was consistent: they could all shoot the cover off the ball. The trio shot above 40% from 3 in 2005-06, and combined to attempt 15.8 3s per 36 minutes in regular season action (more than 28 of the 30 NBA teams had as a whole!).
The Suns’ level of offensive spacing was unprecedented in the basketball sludge of the early aughts, and it benefitted Diaw greatly. Their style of play was tailor-made for a pass-first roller, as Diaw’s finishing struggles are a much easier pill to swallow when his distribution skills are paired with the best kickout options in the league (Phoenix shot 39.9% from 3 in 2005-06!). The trade-off from a high-flying lob threat to an elite decision making roll man is much more appealing when the latter has 3-4 accurate and willing shooters to find on any given possession.
Shawn Marion, who was a respectable shooter in his own right (33% on 3 attempts/36, which was good for 76th highest volume in the league back then!), provided a unique dimension as a world-class finisher, closeout attacker, and transition handler. He and Diaw enjoyed a rapport in the two-man game, often even hooking up for lobs off of free throw line (!) PnRs when Nash was off the floor.
Diaw commanded bench units in a variety of contexts, able to win as a driver and PnR handler against defensive lineups that were a bit easier to crack than starting units. The handling and athletic limitations that held him back from a full-time role as a ball handler were less evident in this change-of-pace creator role. His combination of length and coordination was the foundation of his appeal as an advantage creator.
Connective Passing (cont.)
Although Boris wasn’t drawing tremendous backline gravity as a roller, the presence of a large man barreling down the lane is often enough to draw some form defensive rotation, especially once Diaw is fed the ball. He’s often able to use his deep post positioning off of rolls to, once again, leverage his passing instincts against a tilted defense in an unconventional way. This idea is similar to how smaller guards can still hold functional rim pressure as downhill drivers, even if they aren’t a threat to finish over significant contests.
Diaw’s blistering processing speed also held value as a perimeter ballmover – even if Boris drew little to no defensive respect as a popper or kickout receiver, his ability to swing the ball half a beat early allowed him to consistently deliver the advantage to a player better equipped to capitalize on it (once again, synergizing perfectly with the Suns array of shooters):
Diaw fit right in with Phoenix’s pension for early clock shot attempts, as he thrived in the artificial semi-transition environment the Suns loved to create (often pushing off of opponent makes!). Defenders are much more likely to sag or help off of a non-shooter when defending a set offense methodically running their sets – less so when scrambling just to get back to their assigned defensive shell. And the possessions when Diaw was being sagged off of were usually when Phoenix’s initial push up the floor had sputtered out, and the offense had to reset (which was thankfully not too often).
Importance of Functional Big Size
Even before his drastic weight gain, Diaw was able to capably function as a 4 on both ends, largely due to his outlier length (his wingspan is 7 inches longer than his listed height!). Although he wasn’t a dominant finisher or rebounder, his frame allowed him to cover the replacement level big duties that come with playing up in the lineup. These extra 3 or 4 inches of range can be the difference between a position-locked wing and a forward with 4 flexibility, even if their power forward skill set hasn’t been realized quite yet. For bigger 3s who aren’t quite ready to guard and rebound against power forwards, their extra length creates potential for skill dev into roles that smaller wings don’t have access to.
This Diaw sequence against Dirk Nowitzki’s Mavericks perfectly illustrates the value of functional length for wings trying to play up in the lineup. In Game 1 of the 2006 Western Conference Finals, Boris put up a career-high of 34 points, including the game winning turnaround baby jumper. A chunk of his 23 2nd half points came on post-ups over the Mavericks’ guards, as coach Avery Johnson continued to switch ball screens even while Diaw feasted on Devin Harris and Jason Terry down low for easy buckets or trips to the free throw line.
Midway through the third quarter, Johnson adjusted by sending an extra defender to the ball once Diaw established position in the post. Diaw immediately countered with an adjustment of his own, riffling cross-court skip passes for open 3s once the help committed to the post-up. Although these 3s didn’t fall, Diaw’s “traditional big gravity” as a post-up player allowed him to leverage his “wing”/perimeter skillset as a passer in a unique way and generate quality looks for his team:
Diaw’s length also held immense value on the defense end. Although this is fundamentally a piece about non-shooting wings on offense, my point is moot if they can’t stay on the floor on the other end! Diaw’s wingspan helped make up for his vertical deficiencies, allowing him to be a tenable defensive 4 even without the athletic tools one would expect from an NBA big.
Spurs Tenure
Diaw’s tenure in San Antonio was a departure from his early career role as a wing. As a Spur, he leaned into a role as a stretch 4.5, with emphasis on offball movement, screen setting, low post work, and yes, outside shooting! Diaw gained 35 pounds from his 2005 breakout in Phoenix to his final season as a Spur, and this extra bulk had its fair share of trade offs: improved screen setting and post-up capability, but a marked decrease in his already-modest vertical pop. It’s no secret that Boris is a foodie, and this transition from wing to big was undoubtedly accelerated by Diaw’s joie de vivre off the court; as his career went along, his summers consisted less of intense open runs and more of french pastry crumbs.
Diaw’s career arc is an interesting case study in how different skills can manifest themselves in different ways with only a shift in body type. The brilliant connective passer from Phoenix was clearly still in there somewhere – only now he was doing his damage out of postups, and accessing advantages/high-leverage decision making opportunities via strength-based creation and shooting gravity, instead of as a short roller and DHO operator. Part of this shift in usage can be chalked up to scheme and era, as the league that Boris entered in 2003 was a far cry from the one he left in 2018. It’s especially telling that while Diaw transitioned from a wing to a big over the course of his career, his skillset evolved in the opposite direction; he wasn’t a threat from behind the arc until his early 30s. His body told him to become a big, and the landscape of the league pushed him towards expanding his range; the result was a shift from non-shooting wing to… shooting non-wing.
The name of this series is “Non shooting wings” – Spurs Diaw was neither of those things. Because of this, we won’t spend too much time discussing the minutiae of his time in San Antonio. Still, this stretch of his career throws a wrinkle into the larger argument of this piece. His career arc begs the obvious question: if the emergence of shooting gravity as a requirement rather than a feature for modern wings forced him to become a threat from 3 in order to extend his career, why should he be propped up as a blueprint for other non-shooting wings to follow, who are entering the same league environment that forced him to adapt? Applying historical examples of a seemingly extinct archetype to current-day prospects seems almost ironic in its shortsightedness. That’s the reason why I didn’t write an entry to this series for the archaic bruiser PFs that frequented the early 2000s. The difference between that archetype and Diaw’s is that we’ve seen Boris make his skillset work in an offense with contemporary principles – the 7SOL Suns prioritized the pace and spacing that rule the league today.
While the Suns certainly weren’t as progressive as today’s offenses (their 2005-06 .293 3-point attempt rate would’ve ranked dead last in the NBA last season), it’s significant that a team built on modern values made an exception for a connector like Diaw. What’s also significant is that they clearly utilized him mindfully: not just throwing him out on the court as a living hedge against their revolutionary style of 3pt-oriented offense, but instead crafting a unique role heavy in screening and DHO responsibility that limited his time as dead weight off the ball. Wings who could put up more than a few 3s a game were hard enough to find at this time — acquiring multiple who could do that and also be the connective tissue of an offense was even more difficult. So while he didn’t fulfill the first requirement, Diaw complemented Phoenix’s plethora of gunner wings by bringing traits to the table that were hard to find amongst high volume 3pt shooters at this time (connective passing, screen setting, and reliable secondary ball handling).
So if a team like Phoenix was ideal for Diaw, what contexts would be the worst for him? Although the high pick-and-roll was a staple of the Suns offense, it’s exploded in popularity around the league since 2006. Teams like the Clippers or Mavericks who run a lot of high-ball screens insulated by 3 spacers wouldn’t be the best fit for Boris, as these streamlined offenses don’t leave much room for a secondary screener like Diaw to find a role. His only option would be becoming the primary roller for these PnR-heavy teams, and while this is the solution the Suns used, it’s probably not tenable for teams who run as many PnRs as Dallas or LAC (especially without a 1B roller as dynamic as Shawn Marion). A motion-based offense like the Warriors’ system would suit his skills far better, as their system calls for wings who can set screens, make quick decisions, and attack closeouts – all things Diaw excelled at.
Boris’ Solution:
Key skills: Elite connective passing + enough scoring juice to keep defenses honest + replacement level big size and functionality to fill tertiary “big man” offensive duties
Role: high volume screener, DHO operator, and secondary ball handler
Ideal context: High pace team with lots of early offense and motion-heavy sets
So which non-shooting wings in the 2023 draft class could draw inspiration from Diaw in their NBA careers?
This piece won’t include lengthy background information on the prospects themselves, but I’ve linked their individual Swish Theory scouting reports in with the blurbs below.
Perhaps the most forward-slanted player we’ll cover in this series, Jarace Walker is the closest of the ‘23 wing prospects to Diaw’s body type. At 6’8”/240, he fulfills the physical requirements necessary to be a good screen setter (though his technique and physicality could use some work). Walker is also a much more natural fit as a roller due to his athletic profile — he’s a dynamic leaper who can get off the floor in a flash and finish through contact. In many ways, Jarace seems like a better fit for Diaw’s role in Phoenix than Diaw himself. Jarace’s ball handling skills are still emerging, but his senior year at IMG was encouraging, and he offers a similar intersection of overwhelming length (7’2” wingspan) and rare coordination for size that fueled Diaw’s off-the-dribble game. He seems like a good bet to meet the thresholds of handling, decision making, and downhill gravity necessary to function as a DHO-heavy creator like Diaw.
There isn’t much to project with Jarace here; all he needs is reasonably positive handle development and a continuation of his upward trajectory as a decision maker to slide effortlessly into Phoenix Diaw usage, albeit a less dynamic connective passer but more well-rounded playfinisher. Again, the goal here isn’t to shoehorn the prospects into a certain historical role, but Diaw’s offensive diet is too perfect for Jarace to ignore. Even if he never develops as a shooter, Jarace should be able to stay on an NBA floor between his usefulness as a big secondary initiator, roll gravity, and rebounding upside.
Amen Thompson is a much less cut-and-dry fit in Diaw’s archetype. Amen and Boris might be polar opposites in body type and athletic profile, but they churn problems on the court in a similar manner. Just like Diaw, Amen has a tendency to “over-manipulate” the defense, instead of taking the obvious shot or pass. While this habit is endearing coming from an athletically-limited player like Boris (to which the “obvious” lane might not be so easy!), it can be maddening to watch Amen attempt 3 fake passes and end up with an off-balance floater attempt on a drive where he could’ve simply finished over his defender with a head of steam if he attacked with enough gusto.
If Amen never becomes a viable shooter, it could be difficult to give him a high usage role as a half-court creator. His biggest problem would then become how to leverage his unique physical and processing gifts without utilizing him as a traditional initiator. Diaw’s role as a funky short roller could provide some inspiration here — while neither of the two fit the physical description for a dominant PnR partner, both are special enough at *something* on the court to cast aside usual thresholds. For Boris, it was his elite connective decision making paired with the Suns array of knockdown shooters. For Amen, his explosiveness in space could allow him to function as a high-volume roller, even without the typical length or strength of a typical PnR big. Especially on his rookie contract, using Amen as a short roller would be a useful offensive wrinkle to scheme him into open runways and decision making opportunities, before his handle is refined enough to consistently generate those looks against point-of-attack pressure. If he doesn’t shoot, The long term vision for Amen’s role in the half court is hazy, but mixing in possessions as a roller could be part of the solution.
Wings who narrowly missed the cut for this article (but will feature in future entries of the series!): Ausar Thompson, Dillon Mitchell, Anthony Black
What Did We Learn?
The broadest takeaway I have from my time watching Diaw is how important it is for non-shooting wings to find an alternative way to command defensive attention off the ball. For many of the prospects that I’ll cover in this series, their effectiveness on possessions where they actively contribute to the shot attempt isn’t the issue! The problem is the time they spend off the ball as a passive negative, since they can be disregarded on the perimeter. Because of this, finding a niche in the half-court that a NSW can slide into as a net neutral (or even slight negative) can be hugely impactful. Diaw did this by becoming a roller and DHO operator, even when his body type and pre-NBA play style didn’t line up with that role. I sense that each historical player we’ll cover in this series will find a unique solution of their own that allows them to spend minimal time uninvolved in possessions on the offensive end.
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