Welcome to the second installment of While You Were Scrolling. If you missed our debut column, the goal here is to bounce around the league and highlight some of the more creative and intriguing sequences that, for whatever reason, you might have missed. The very best of what NBA basketball has to offer exists somewhere between feats of randomness and a game plan that’s tailor-made to accommodate or exploit everyone involved. Well-laid plans vs. athletic ad-libbing.
Let’s open up the old notebook and have a look at both sides of the coin.
The Nuggets are the NBA’s cleverest team.
When I watch NBA games, I love being reminded that all the energy, ambition, and flair happening in front of me are unfurling on a continuum. In spite of what the per-possession statistics that define modern analysis would have you think, very little of what players do exists in a vacuum. Almost every decision is connected to something that already happened. It sounds obvious but gets overlooked (at least by me) far more than it should.
During the first quarter of their thrilling Christmas Day win—the one where Nikola Jokic had a laugh-out-loud 56-point, 15-rebound, 15-assist triple-double and set a new NBA record by scoring 18 points in overtime alone—the Denver Nuggets demonstrated this reality better than anyone else could:
The first clip above begins with a fairly routine setup: Tim Hardaway Jr. sets a back screen for Julian Strawther, causing Minnesota’s Anthony Edwards and Mike Conley to switch. Hardaway then comes up to retrieve the ball from Jokic on a handoff. With Julius Randle not wanting to leave Jokic, Edwards distracted by Strawther’s movement, and Conley trailing over the top because he knows Hardaway loves firing up that little 16-footer, the Nuggets get a wide-open layup. A couple of possessions later, in the next clip, the Nuggets go back to the same play. The Nuggets know that the Timberwolves know what they want to do. So when Ant top-locks Hardaway to prevent him from getting Jokic’s handoff again, Denver doesn’t fight it. Instead, Jokic and Hardaway absorb the response and throw a swift counterpunch, as Hardaway sneaks backdoor for a dunk. Having the highest offensive rating in the NBA is obviously impressive. But watching it in action, performed seamlessly by the sport’s preeminent hivemind, is beautiful stuff.
Michael Porter Jr. has found a home.
The Brooklyn Nets are officially a League Pass darling, and Porter is the no. 1 reason why. He’s averaging a career-high 25.7 points per game with a true shooting percentage that’s 4.9 percentage points above league average and an assist rate that’s well over double his previous best. Plus, according to BBall Index, no player has seen their true usage percentage leap higher compared to what it was last year. Right before our eyes, MPJ has transformed from an overpaid and overqualified role player to a trajectory-altering All-Star. More importantly, for the purpose of this column, he’s become a creative muse for Nets head coach Jordi Fernández amid a season that’s steadily shifting from dark to light.
MPJ is a full-time misdirection master who ranks ninth in overall gravity, and his rip screens open a portal of options for him and plant a pile of booby traps for the opposition. Depending on how he’s guarded, Porter can dive backdoor, front-cut over the top, or sprint up for a blink-and-you’re-extinct dribble-handoff 3. It’s a combination of size, movement, and top-tier shotmaking that nobody (except Lauri Markkanen) can really touch right now.
There are three plays clipped in the video below. All illustrate the strain Porter can impose on a defense without the ball. The first one, though, is a gem. I don’t know whether Egor Demin took any acting classes at BYU or whether the Nets are disorganized on purpose and are simply able to reassemble themselves in time to pull off Fernández’s ingenious twist. Either way, the Bulls are flummoxed:
Those who can efficiently score a ton without dominating the ball are rare, selfless, and priceless. There are 20 players currently averaging at least 25 points per game, and the only one who has the ball in their hands less than Porter is Markkanen. (For reference, MPJ’s on-ball percentage is 12.8 percent, and his former teammate Jamal Murray is at 36.0 percent; Porter is averaging more points per game.)
Nic Claxton is no Nikola Jokic, but having a center who can pass is a huge part of this equation. Whether he’s on the perimeter to set up a dribble handoff or survey the floor, Claxton can drag opposing centers out of the paint and let Porter eat at the rim (where he’s shooting 81 percent). “[Porter] is an underrated cutter,” Heat head coach Erik Spoelstra recently said. “We know about his shooting. We know about his size. He can shoot over virtually anybody in this league, even when you're there. But it gets his scoring going when he gets easy ones—the back cuts, the curl cuts, the movement cuts.”
After watching the Oklahoma City Thunder recently lose four games in a two-week stretch, several teams probably feel reinvigorated about their chances at a meaningfully deep playoff run. If I were one of their GMs, I would strongly consider making a weighty offer for Porter. And if I were Sean Marks, I’d be in zero rush to move on from a 27-year-old who can accentuate my young core and fit beside the more established and talented pieces we bring in over the summer. If somebody comes along and decides to make the Mikal Bridges offer look like child’s play, so be it. But until then, there’s no reason to settle just so the Nets can move up a few spots in the lottery.
Get Jimmy Butler the damn ball.
Butler’s numbers are once again at an All-NBA level. He’s averaging 20-5-5 at an incredibly efficient rate, getting to the free throw line, and hardly ever turning the ball over. Butler ranks third in win shares per 48 minutes, and the two players ahead of him are Nikola Jokic and Shai Gilgeous-Alexander. But when the Warriors backslide against seemingly inferior competition, it feels like Butler can/should do more—a running theme throughout his Hall of Fame career. We’re talking about a brilliant, unselfish star who doesn’t let box score statistics dictate his decision-making. Unfortunately, that mentality has been at odds with lineups that need him to be more aggressive. Some of that passivity is on him. And some of it’s on his teammates. Case in point:
At the beginning of this clip, De’Anthony Melton sees Butler call for the ball but decides to swing it back up to Quinten Post instead. During the next stoppage, Butler politely lets his teammate know that he would very much appreciate being passed the ball, should a similar situation occur sooner rather than later. The vibes are not exactly immaculate in Golden State right now. It’s a small, old, underachieving team. But moments like this one can be positive. Butler is frustrated, not checked out. (You hear that, Draymond?) That’s a meaningful difference. If the Warriors don’t string together more wins, though, it’s worth wondering how long his level of engagement will last.
Remember when Mikal Bridges almost won DPOY?
After a game earlier this season, Bam Adebayo wondered whether his Miami Heat ran a single play. Traditional choreography was replaced, entirely, by 48 minutes of all-gas, no-brakes improvisation. The league was on its heels. Fast-forward several weeks, and the Heat’s underbelly has been laid bare. They are still very fast and pretty random, but it turns out that no structure is not a good thing. You need some balance. Whenever possible, Miami sprinkles in sets that typically catch its opponents off guard. That’s what makes this reaction by the New York Knicks so impressive:
Miami’s idea was to run Norm Powell through an “elevators” screen set by Andrew Wiggins and Kel’el Ware. Once Powell raced through those two teammates, his defender, Tyler Kolek, would crash into their large bodies and free Powell up for an open 3. Bridges had other plans, though. In an instant, he sniffed Miami’s intentions out with a brilliant read, shot the gap, deflected the pass, and forced a 35-footer. The Knicks have personnel-related flaws on defense, and they need to clean up some stuff in transition. But this play was a good reminder of why trading for Bridges was an essential decision. (He’s been phenomenal on both ends all year and currently boasts the highest assist rate of his career!) When he plays this well, the Knicks look like the Eastern Conference’s prohibitive favorites.
I watch the Sacramento Kings so you don’t have to.
Before the season started, Doug Christie sat down with ESPN’s Tim Legler for a broad discussion about his upcoming first full season as the Kings’ head coach. At one point, Legler asks Christie about the areas of growth he wants to see from his team this year. “Not areas,” Christie clarifies. “Area. Defense. You know me. I’m defense. I want to punch people in the mouth.”
Instead, the poor souls who’ve subjected themselves to more than a handful of Kings games this season have watched a team that likes to sock itself in the face. The Kings are 7-23, rank 28th in defensive rating, and are allowing about four more points per 100 possessions than they did last year. They’re steamrolled at the rim, vulnerable on the glass, and due for regression from the corners. It’s a disastrous development, spearheaded by an inexplicable roster and some schemes that are seemingly designed to smear grease on an uphill climb. The Kings switch screens quite a bit, which by itself is fine. But even when they give the offense a blatant mismatch, support rarely comes. There’s no double-team, early rotation, stunt, or dig. The result, often, is malpractice:
I understand wanting to turn Jokic into a scorer, but asking Russell Westbrook or Nique Clifford to defend him on an island is a guaranteed failure. Watch the Kings, and you won’t give them the benefit of the doubt. Possessions like these are scattered throughout every game. Where is the help? Why aren’t any Kings even pretending the sport is five-on-five? How does Christie justify doing this over and over and over again with the same results? The effort is atrocious, sure. But what they’re being asked to execute wouldn’t make sense even if Sacramento didn’t have the worst collection of perimeter defenders in the league. It’s almost like Christie is playing a game of chicken with his players, or trying to punish them. I don’t get it, but I am here for the carnage.
Victor Wembanyama’s flexibility knows no bounds.
One of the countless cool things about Wemby is his offensive versatility. He can post up on the block, run an inverted pick-and-roll, pop after setting a screen, or isolate at the nail. All are functional answers to whatever strategy the defense wants to try. My favorite, though, is when he’s off the ball, inducing panic 25 feet from the rim. It’s not the best path against every matchup, but when the opposing coach decides to stick a rim-protecting center on him, the Spurs can put Wemby in the corner and have him run off a stagger screen. Sometimes it’s to generate an open look or force a switch. And sometimes it’s to occupy one side of the court and draw half of the other team’s attention:
Wembanyama belongs in a bad dream: a 7-foot-4 Lovecraftian monster who can occasionally moonlight as Klay Thompson. The Spurs aren’t even running the play above to get Wemby a 3. They’re doing it because they want to get Mitchell Robinson out of the paint so Stephon Castle can take Jordan Clarkson off the dribble and not worry about any rim protectors. Shout-out to OG Anunoby, though. Guarding Devin Vassell in the strongside corner, he recognizes the threat in real time and stops Castle’s initial right-hand drive. And double shout-out to Castle for seeing Anunoby, going behind his back, and finishing with a reverse on the other side of the rim.
Darius Garland is back?
How can you tell Garland is fully back? The numbers help. Over his past eight games, he’s averaging 21 points and 7.6 assists, and his 2-point percentage is up significantly compared to his first eight games. But far more telling signs are revealed on the floor. How is he moving without the ball? Where does he set the panic meter for opposing defenses? In Saturday night’s loss against the Houston Rockets, Garland finished with 12 points and was a steaming minus-32. I don’t really care about any of that, though. The performance was actually a cause for optimism about his health and how he can help turn a seemingly hopeless situation around.
The first play that caught my eye came on defense. The Cavaliers go zone in the second quarter and are compromised when Evan Mobley bites on Dorian Finney-Smith’s pump fake. When the ball gets swung to Steven Adams down in the post, Amen Thompson dives into the paint, drawing De’Andre Hunter off a red-hot Kevin Durant on the opposite wing. Then Garland makes an excellent read and deflects Adams’s skip pass:
Garland’s reaction might not look like Kawhi Leonard in his prime, but he’s not making this kind of effort on defense with a bothersome toe. Even with the layer of desperation here, knowing that KD is the pass’s intended recipient and would be off-balance if it got there, Garland is confident enough in his body’s ability to make a play on the ball.
The next example came a couple of minutes later, when the Rockets blitzed Garland near half court instead of switching Reed Sheppard onto him. This is logical enough. Sheppard isn’t the greatest on-ball defender, and the Rockets clearly don’t want to live with the result of whatever happens when Garland gets him on an island:
The fascinating gambit here, though, is that Houston is willing to put two on Garland despite Sam Merrill being the screener who could pop out for an open look. Merrill is not a normal outside threat. He is a five-alarm fire. According to Sportradar, there are 38 players who’ve attempted at least 70 movement 3s this season. Merrill leads them all with 47.2 percent made. What does it say about Garland that Ime Udoka is willing to risk leaving that guy open? A lot!
Only one NBA duo matters.
Are the New Orleans Pelicans a disaster? Sort of. Do Zion Williamson and Derik Queen demand undivided attention whenever they’re on the court at the same time? Absolutely. The range of long-term outcomes feels pretty wide—these two could either be the foundation of an unbelievable New Orleans reclamation project or never play together again—but considering these guys are two similarly sized, singular “bigs” who can’t shoot and thrive with the ball in their hands, it’s kind of amazing that New Orleans’s offensive rating is 1.7 points above the league average when they share the floor.
Zion is easy to understand. He’s breathtakingly powerful and coordinated and struts around the floor knowing no individual defender can touch him. He knows he wants to get to the rim. They know he wants to get to the rim. We know he wants to get to the rim. And still, reliably, Williamson gets to the rim. Queen, on the other hand, saunters through every play intending to mislead whoever’s guarding him. It’s a stupendously awkward, mesmerizing hustle. Nothing about them insinuates the possibility of a positive coexistence, but there’s enough talent, vision, and opposites-attract symmetry to make it work. Snippets like this help explain why:
With Zion pushing the ball on a secondary break, Queen sets a pick below the free throw line on Jay Huff, a.k.a. his own man. Gortat screens are unconventional by nature, but watching Queen and Zion hook up on this one made me wonder what a basketball team coached by David Lynch would’ve looked like.
