It's Friday -- the last one of the regular season! -- and you know what that means: We explore 10 more things from the NBA world, including nifty dimes from Joel Embiid, mastery from Luka Doncic, Jayson Tatum reaching basketball nirvana and season-ending fashion advice.
1. Joel Embiid's quick passing
Praise for Embiid's improved passing has focused on those domineering possessions in which he lords over the action -- directing cutters, triggering rotations, whipping crosscourt passes. He is dishing a career-best 4.2 dimes, and his turnover rate shrinks every season. He is a truly majestic force.
But watch for those inside-out slingshots in which the ball leaves Embiid's hands almost the instant he touches it.
One key to being a great passer -- particularly a great post passer -- is understanding when to hold the ball and suck in the defense, and when to get rid of it right away. There is no need to draw help defenders any further when they are pre-rotated toward you -- leaning into the paint, at the mercy of their own momentum.
James Harden is broken right now as a scorer, but the Harden-Embiid pick-and-roll is as dominant as advertised. It is generating heaps of easy buckets for Embiid. Before the trade, Embiid set about 41 ball screens per 100 possessions and rolled to the rim on 37% of those plays, per Second Spectrum. Alongside Harden, Embiid is setting 46 picks per 100 possessions and rolling 51% of the time.
He is shooting and drawing fouls more often on those plays. Embiid is so skilled that catching around the foul line with some airspace amounts to a layup for him.
The Philadelphia 76ers are averaging 1.17 points per possession when Embiid rolls after screening for Harden, catches the ball, and finishes the play, per Second Spectrum. That would lead all high-volume screeners.
If I'm scheming against the Harden-Embiid dance, my No. 1 priority might be preventing Embiid from catching pocket passes -- even if it means playing Harden slightly for the drive. Given how Harden has looked recently, I'd rather force him to finish over a decent contest -- especially given playoff officiating tendencies -- than concede slicing interior touches to Embiid. (Seriously: we are like one bad Harden playoff game from his play becoming a crisis, if it isn't already. The other alternative against the Harden-Embiid dance is swarming both of them, and daring Philly's shooters to beat you.)
Their pick-and-roll chemistry is probably one reason Doc Rivers occasionally rested Harden and Embiid together. The gut reaction is to object: Shouldn't Rivers stagger them? Maybe? Probably?
But resting Embiid and Harden together also maximizes their minutes together. There is a happy medium, too. I can't wait to see where Rivers ends up.
2. What the numbers see in Nikola Jokic's defense
Even as he ascended to the MVP, Jokic was caricatured as a lead-footed sieve on defense. That reputation lingers -- and not without some justification. Jokic barely jumps. If you get a shot off around the rim against him, there's a great chance it's going in. Perimeter stars can expose him in open space. (In fairness, they do that to most centers.)
Meanwhile, advanced statistics paint Jokic as one of the league's best defenders. What gives?
The truth is in the middle. Whether you detest advanced stats or dabble in them, when they all scream in unison, you should ask: What are they noticing?
Some of it is simple: Jokic swipes lots of steals, and leads all big men in deflections. He is second in defensive rebounding rate. He is the world's best at tipping rebounds to himself, and can wipe out two guys with one sturdy boxout.
But we see rebounds and steals. I suspect a lot what we might miss -- what the numbers notice -- lies here:
Draymond Green once told me that defense in flux becomes about forcing the offense to make one more decision -- one more pass. Jokic has mastered that in-between space on the pick-and-roll, covering both players without really covering either, and clouding the ball handler's thinking -- forcing him to slow down, and make a choice.
Almost paradoxically, not jumping in these situations can be a skill. It is a refusal to commit -- a method of foisting uncertainty onto ball handlers. It leverages Jokic's size in every direction. As long as he hasn't made a choice, he can choose to be anywhere (other than above the rim).
This cat-and-mouse game might become less effective against elite ball handlers. Those guys accelerate right at Jokic, confident they can score through him -- or coax him into a choice. Those moments reveal the difference between Jokic and Embiid; Embiid can still blot those shots out.
But in the regular season and against most opponents, the evidence suggests Jokic is a good defender.
3. Luka Doncic, never giving up on the lob
This might be the NBA's most superficially run-of-the-mill pass that is anything but -- and Doncic is one of only two guys (along with LeBron James) who make it even semi-regularly:
Defenses overload toward superstar ball handlers in this exact alignment a lot: The guy guarding the big near the basket slides toward the ball, and the defender in the weakside corner rotates into the lane to take away the lob. The goal is to coax the ball handler into that skip pass; the ball stays airborne long enough for the defense to reset itself.
Most ball handlers settle for that. Not Doncic. He hunts that entry pass to Dwight Powell. He uses eye fakes, extra dribbles, and pivot moves to shift the defense just enough that a corridor to Powell opens. If that second help defender is on Powell's back, Doncic zips the ball on a straight line.
If he tricks that help defender into retreating to the corner, the lob is there:
Powell and Doncic have developed a delightful pick-and-roll chemistry. Powell has always been a dangerous lob-catcher. When defenses double Doncic, he slips the ball to Powell and trusts him to make the next play in 4-on-3 situations. Powell has been spraying pinpoint passes on those short rolls. The Dallas Mavericks are in a gorgeous ball-movement groove. That thing is flying side to side.
Doncic is an absolute master -- a strong contender for first-team All-NBA and the No. 4 or 5 spot on the MVP ballot. No one wants any part of him in a seven-game series.
4. Jayson Tatum is toying with the game
Tatum has reached that nirvana where every one of his skills is peaking at once, amplifying each other in ways he might never have imagined.
Since Dec. 1, Tatum ranks as one of the league's most efficient pick-and-roll ball handlers and post-up players, per Second Spectrum. In that stretch, the Boston Celtics has poured in 1.14 points per chance when Tatum sets a ball screen -- fourth among 242 players who have set at least 100 picks over that span.
Tatum has leaned into two-man games with Derrick White and Marcus Smart -- the Celtics most often defended by opposing point guards. Switch, and he bullies that mismatch. Double, and you're unleashing Tatum's playmaking. Drop back, and Tatum rains pull-up fire. Overplay that pull-up, and Tatum dusts you off the bounce. He has answers for any scheme.
Apex players use the breadth of their skill to manipulate defenses, almost toying with them. When you are an all-consuming threat, defenses react to every move -- every cut, glance, shoulder fake. Such power.
But the best defenses don't just wait for you to dictate terms. They adjust on the fly, spring traps, blitz, zone up. The rare players at Tatum's level have the luxury of knowing they can react to whatever they see. What a comfort that must be: Throw whatever you want at me; I'll think of the answer on the spot, because I have them all.
The most meaningful leap has been in Tatum's passing. He is getting off the ball earlier when he should, confident he'll get it back if the Celtics keep swinging it. He is rifling passes to shooters when their defenders are still lurching in his direction.
When Tatum maintains his dribble, it is with purpose:
Tatum sees Daniel Gafford clogging the lane, and Ish Smith underneath the rim. Tatum could hit Daniel Theis for a trey, or swing to Payton Pritchard -- scorching for months -- in the right corner. Tatum could flick that pass anytime, but anticipates Theis' cut -- and how that cut will occupy Smith. As soon as Theis hits the foul line, the ball is gone.
That is the perfect combination of patience and urgency -- slow until the second Tatum needs to go fast.
Tatum has flashed this vision for years -- one quarter here, another five-minute segment there. It's constant now, and Tatum will be a constant first-team All-NBA contender.
Had Tatum made All-NBA last season, his max extension -- signed before last season, but kicking in for this one -- would have included an additional $32.6 million. He barely missed. He's a lock to make it this season -- the first year in that mega extension. Why shouldn't he remain eligible for that bonus? Why should criteria be backward-looking only for players entering their primes?
Every cap fix is complex, but this seems worthy ground for negotiation.
5. Utah's transition defense
The Utah Jazz are 22-23 in their past 45 games. Blame injuries if you prefer; the absences of almost every key player -- including Donovan Mitchell and Rudy Gobert -- played a big role in the Jazz sputtering. But the issues go beyond health.
Real contenders come together amid adversity. They lift each other, amp up their effort, and channel that effort in the same direction. They lean on what made them great in the first place: communication, bedrock principles, collective desire.
Transition defense can be a window into any team's connectivity. Available stats paint Utah as a mediocre transition defense team, but it has fragmented in several recent losses, including fall-from-ahead jobs against the Golden State Warriors and LA Clippers.
Golden State walked into several semi-transition 3s as the Jazz bickered over assignments. Up 15 against the Clippers, the entire Jazz team stood around after Jordan Clarkson missed a corner 3 with 7.5 seconds left in the third quarter -- acting as if the buzzer had sounded. Paul George went coast-to-coast for an and-1. Those three points became the great gateway to another meltdown.
Utah can right the ship, but time is running thin. If it fails, an earthquake might be roiling.
6. Kevin Porter Jr., sometimes too casual
The Houston Rockets could make a jump sooner than expected -- likely in the summer of 2023, when they are loaded with cap space. (They could in theory crack some this summer by waiving and stretching John Wall -- or whomever they might get for Wall via trade -- but they won't cannibalize future space.)
Jalen Green is a star. Alperen Sengun will be a legit starter soon. Jae'Sean Tate is a glue guy. Kenyon Martin Jr. is emerging. Josh Christopher and Usman Garuba have potential.
Porter -- extension-eligible this summer -- is a bit of a wild card. In lots of ways, he has had a nice season. He is up to 37% from deep, including 49% on catch-and-shoot 3s -- second among rotation players who average at least 1.5 such shots. As Green and Sengun shoulder more ballhandling, Porter should find more of those looks.
He is a nifty passer, surging to end the season. He can slow down, pin defenders on his hip, and read the defense. Porter and Green have the outlines of an explosive backcourt, and the tools to grow into solid defenders.
The next step is valuing each possession -- playing them all with calculated purpose. Porter can slip into a casual randomness, as if he is experimenting -- testing his limits.
That's fine today. When the games matter, every possession is precious. Porter is shooting just 33% on midrangers, and can get tunnel vision around the rim.
There is a winning player in here, though.
7. Tre Jones, testing the limits of the modern NBA
Puttering by the Los Angeles Lakers' roadside wreckage hasn't been the most inspiring playoff push -- four of the San Antonio Spurs' past seven wins came against the Rockets and the Portland Trail Blazers -- but you learn things even in these reserve-heavy pseudo-games.
Zach Collins is finding his way again, minus some overly ambitious takes in the post. The Spurs have something in Joshua Primo. Jones is a heady caretaker and tenacious defender who has filled in well for Dejounte Murray. One glaring weakness clouds his future: an almost total aversion to 3-pointers.
Jones is 10-of-49 from deep in two seasons. Not everyone needs to be a high-volume gunner, but it's hard to be more than a solid backup if you can't shoot 3s at all.
Sometimes there is no better shot around the bend:
Jones demurs on wide-open corner 3s too -- derailing possessions that have reached their organic end point.
Sometimes, it works out. Jones is crafty knifing his way into the lane. He is shooting 51% from floater range, and he's a slick interior passer.
Maybe Jones is following the path of his older brother, Tyus Jones, outgrowing backup status thanks to some increased aggression. The Jones brothers are first and second in assist-to-turnover ratio. Tyus Jones is the king of that stat, and for many seasons it was both a gold star and a marker of an almost aggressive anti-aggression; you won't commit turnovers if you don't take any chances, but you have to take some chances to win.
8. A lost season for Rui Hachimura
Hachimura's surface numbers look fine; his 45% mark from 3 on higher volume is super encouraging. He has cracked 20 points on solid shooting in three of the Washington Wizards' last six games. It's not really his fault he missed the competitive portion of the Wiz season due to personal reasons.
But these running-out-the-string blah-fests can feel aimless, devoid of intensity. Without real stakes, there has been a certain hollowness to Hachimura's production. He is a minus defender, addled away from the ball. He's a below-average rebounder at power forward. He rarely makes plays for others.
Hachimura takes tons of midrangers, many outside the flow:
That's a fadeaway with 11 on the shot clock and Kristaps Porzingis calling for the ball against Tatum in front of Hachimura's face. (Check out Porzingis clapping in frustration as he jogs back on defense.) Porzingis going at Tatum isn't a great option, but Hachimura hunts points when he'd be better off passing the baton.
That midranger in the right doses is a useful weapon; Hachimura has shown a nice post game against guards on switches.
But what is Hachimura's foundational skill, his identity? If this shooting sustains, perhaps he becomes a stretch power forward. Is he satisfied with that?
Hachimura is extension-eligible this offseason. The Wizards surely hoped to have learned more about his game by now.
9. Zach LaVine, between dribbles
Dennis Lindsey, the former Jazz GM, once described Manu Ginobili (deserved first-ballot Hall of Famer!) as the rare ball handler who "plays between dribbles." It was a perfect encapsulation of Ginobili's jagged jolts of motion.
LaVine isn't as creative as Ginobili, but he has some between-dribbles slipperiness to him:
As the ball hovers, LaVine half-turns, hops backward or forward, changes speeds. On some drives, he almost seems to throw the ball ahead so that he can chase it.
Umm, so, how are we feeling about LaVine's potential/inevitable max deal with the Chicago Bulls? LaVine is averaging 25 points on 47.5% shooting -- 39% on 3s, and 53% on 2s. That's a tick below his outrageous efficiency from last season, but it's damned good.
So why has LaVine left me feeling ... lukewarm? Part of it is ceding alpha status to DeMar DeRozan and the Bulls -- who still can't beat anyone good -- largely struggling when LaVine plays without DeRozan. Lonzo Ball's absence hurt. Ball finds LaVine in transition, and should generate more catch-and-shoot 3s for him. (LaVine takes 2.6 catch-and-shoot 3s per game, and 4.3 pull-ups. That ratio should be closer to even.)
There are six-minute periods every game or two when LaVine looks like the best player in the world. Then he seems to recede. He has plateaued as a playmaker, and he didn't carry over the defense he showed for Team USA. Knee issues haven't helped.
LaVine is an All-Star, but he isn't in the All-NBA conversation. It will be fascinating to see how that max deal ages. It won't be bad or super damaging, but will the Bulls feel awesome about it?
10. Jerseys over collared shirts
I am unqualified to give fashion advice, so I checked with some of my chic colleagues -- and they unanimously confirmed: the jersey-over-collared-shirt look is wretched and uber-preppy.
I am sympathetic to the broader dilemma. Jerseys are cool (though overpriced) souvenirs. The player you choose is a window into your soul: What kind of skills do you value? What personality types do you gravitate toward? When I see a Warriors fan in an Andre Iguodala jersey, I smile: That's my kind of human and hoops junkie.
And yet, for all but the super toned, it is impossible to look good sleeveless in a jersey. I once busted out that look in the house (window shades down) just to test it out, and my wife recoiled as if I were covered in vomit.
So what are you supposed to do with your jersey? Wear it over a long-sleeved T-shirt, maybe? Framing it is the best option, but that costs several hundred dollars -- running your jersey bill toward quadruple digits.
I guess the solution is the T-shirt version? That just isn't as special. Regardless, the collared shirt look is not the answer.