It's time for our first 10 Things of the season -- and mercifully a Los Angeles Lakers-free edition! This one stars the league's most watchable player; a starry team off to a mediocre start; some intriguing young guys; and the end, finally, of a basketball scourge.
1. The subtle magic of Ja Morant
It's official, if it wasn't already: Morant is the league's most telegenic player, a must-watch show. The last player to inspire this particular visceral, tingling glee -- a guy you build your schedule around because you can't bear the thought of missing something you've never seen -- was the emergent, incandescent, unprecedented Stephen Curry of 2014 to 2016.
Morant's watchability applies on defense too; he has staked his claim as the new king of the chase-down block, and any Memphis Grizzlies steal might lead to some Morant-centric highlight.
The mix of force, speed, and aerial dynamism is stunning. Most point guards toss alley-oops. Morant finishes even wayward lobs, stretching, catching, and cramming one-handed. On his best chase-downs -- the ones where he squashes the ball against the glass with both hands -- he appears to still be flying upward, legs dangling below him, upon impact. You can imagine him soaring into the upper deck to admire the view and chug a beer, and then sprinting down.
Morant spins magic amid the mundane. He's 13-of-23 on 3s, and as more defenders chase him over screens -- instead of ducking under -- the breadth of his pick-and-roll game opens up. Morant has a deep bag of crafty moves, and the rare ability to shift between extremes on the speedometer:
That is an absolutely filthy left-handed in-and-out dribble followed by a one-handed lefty gather. JaVale McGee may as well not be there.
One minute later:
Holy hell. What even is that? Morant busts out that identical lefty in-and-out, knowing McGee -- having just drowned in its wake -- might overreact that way. When McGee leans left, Morant plants hard on his left foot, comes to an almost total stop, and slides backward and to his right for a floater. Morant is in the thick of the paint, but look how much space he has in all directions!
Slowing down like that keeps all four teammates in play as options, and Morant's ability to involve everyone -- to empower them -- is perhaps his greatest gift as a leader and foundational star.
Morant is puppeteering right now the way only true superstars can. He is at the forefront of the MVP race.
2. Jordan Clarkson dishin' for the adaptable Utah Jazz
The League Pass Rankings algorithm -- a secretive document of unknown origins -- severely misjudged the entertainment value of the 4-1 Jazz.
The algorithm saw disparate parts -- all shoot-first combo guards and power forwards -- whose fit was almost immaterial. They were appendages to trades -- salary required to get Utah what it really wanted: sweet, sweet draft picks. They would play together only until the Jazz could trade them for more picks. How could a coherent identity bloom in such circumstances?
It's still early. Opponents won't overlook the Jazz now. The "nobody believed in us!" pluck peters out. Opponents have hit just 30% on 3s; that will jump. (Utah has also allowed the most shots at the rim, and doesn't have much shot-blocking aside from the gargantuan Walker Kessler.) Lauri Markkanen did not become a superstar overnight.
But Utah's rollicking start is a reminder of how adaptable players can be -- with Clarkson as a prime example. As sixth man, Clarkson embraced the role of shoot-first, shoot-always bench gunner. Joe Ingles once told me Clarkson urged Ingles to pass him the ball with the shot clock dwindling; if Ingles didn't want low-percentage grenade shots, Clarkson would gladly take them.
As a starter and sometimes lead ball handler, Clarkson has engaged facilitator mode. He's dishing 6 dimes per 36 minutes, double his career average. He is playing as if he feels a greater responsibility to his team.
Clarkson has never displayed such vision and artistry. Maybe it was always there, lying dormant. Maybe Clarkson is more focused on it.
Utah is slicing defenses apart on these wing pick-and-rolls, often with Kelly Olynyk screening. Clarkson is slowing down, pinning defenders on his hip, and manipulating the defense. He dangles the ball on a pass fake like a waiter holding a serving tray. With Jonas Valanciunas crouched, Clarkson rises for a floater. Valanciunas leaps -- abandoning Kessler. Clarkson plops the easy drop-off.
A team that looked like a nonsensical mishmash on paper has assisted on 68% of its buckets -- third overall. The Jazz are solid on both ends -- 8th in scoring margin. Their defensive fundamentals -- rebounding, foul rate, turnovers -- are good. I'm skeptical they maintain this, but there are interesting signs afoot.
3. Jalen Green's feel
The Houston Rockets burst with frenetic energy. That exuberance can explode in all directions at once -- producing dizzying end-to-end sequences that morph from ragged to spectacular and back again.
When their young stars go one-on-one, they might roast some veteran with such ease, you wonder how youth ever loses. One audacious possession later, you'll remember why: In its bravado and eagerness to claim its place, youth sometimes forgets the limits of individual brilliance. The glimpses of Houston's young stars combining their talents -- amplifying each other -- offer tantalizing sustenance.
Green can do pretty much whatever he wants on offense. At times, he and Kevin Porter Jr. default to ultra-difficult isolation play. (It's also on Stephen Silas to install more of a system.)
But stuff like this holds promise:
For a 20-year-old scorer, Green has unusual feel for cutting. Alperen Sengun unlocks more high-post offense, and I wish the Rockets would start Sengun now -- and see how Sengun, Green, and Porter mesh in something like an equal opportunity offense. The defense would wilt, though Porter has made strides on and off the ball. It's going to be bad regardless.
Green's instincts as a cutter are why I'm holding out hope for his passing and defense. If he sees the floor well enough to do one, he can hone the other two. He tries on defense, and has the length and speed to be at least average. He is prone to miscommunication and smacking into picks, but that's to be expected at this point.
Green telegraphs some passes and misses others -- again, expected.
The Rockets are sneakily well-positioned. Green is a star in the making. Sengun and Jabari Smith Jr. are potential plus starters. I have been a Porter skeptic, but he's busting into this conversation. Jae'Sean Tate is the no-frills role guy every good team needs. Tari Eason should become (at worst) a better version of that; he's a good multi-positional defender now. There are several other intriguing prospects here. Even Usman Garuba has shown flashes as a switchable stopper.
The Rockets also have cap space; free agency appeal; extra first-rounders galore; and a chance at another high pick in a draft you may have heard something about.
4. Isaac Okoro and Cleveland's simmering issue
Starting Caris LeVert alongside the Darius Garland/Donovan Mitchell backcourt was a resounding vote of no-confidence in Okoro -- the No. 5 pick in 2020. (It's easy to say now, but imagine if the Cavs had reached for Devin Vassell -- the 11th pick -- instead? Vassell is averaging 20 points and shooting 40% on almost 9 triples per game.)
LeVert's a nice player, and he's leaning into more of a distributor role. But he's a so-so shooter and a below-average defender -- not the Cavs' ideal third wing. He'd work best as their sixth man. They know this. It wouldn't surprise me if they tried starting Dean Wade or Cedi Osman when Garland returns.
But, yikes, does Okoro look tentative. He's attempted 12 shots in 70 minutes, a usage rate that makes Caleb Martin look like prime Antoine Walker. Okoro is hesitant on all but the most wide-open corner 3s. Defenses ignore him. That's old news.
Okoro almost looks afraid to dribble at times in the half court -- which is strange, because he's an end-to-end marauder in transition.
Most perimeter players come alive when their defenders gamble for steals and miss -- exposing a runway. Okoro appears almost confused at the possibility of dribbling unimpeded. At least he cuts hard.
Okoro catches the ball open with the defense scrambling, but fails to widen the Cavs' advantage. He doesn't shoot or dribble. He passes the baton only after holding it just long enough for the defense to recover.
It's early. Okoro has had some aggressive (by his standards) stretches over his first two seasons. Evan Mobley might end up being Cleveland's answer to the "Who guards Jayson Tatum and Jaylen Brown types?" question, but Cleveland still needs a fifth player on the floor in closing time.
5. When finesse bigs get physical
Where has this Nikola Vucevic been?
Vucevic's pick-and-pop game opens the floor for DeMar DeRozan and Zach LaVine. His ability to spot up allows Chicago to use other players -- Patrick Williams, several of their guards -- as screeners in unconventional pick-and-rolls.
In the post, Vucevic eludes defenders with pivoty footwork and quick fakery. He also eludes contact; Vucevic averages two free throws for his career -- paltry for a big man. As with most bigs, more 3s has meant fewer offensive boards.
The short-handed Bulls have had to get grimier to stay afloat, and Vucevic has done his part with nastier work in the paint. He's averaging 4.8 free throws this season and grabbing offensive boards at a career-best rate. Half those offensive rebounds came in mashing the Boston Celtics Monday, but Vucevic has been more dialed in down low all season -- and ultra-efficient on post chances, per Second Spectrum. We'll see if it lasts. Chicago hasn't defended well with Vucevic in the middle.
Meanwhile, bookmark this baseline dunk from Larry Nance Jr.:
Nance appears to have his hops back. He'll play a lot alongside Zion Williamson, and some opponents -- including the Brooklyn Nets above -- will stick centers on Williamson, leaving smaller forwards checking Nance. Nance has to hurt those guys with occasional duck-ins, offensive boards, and other old-school brutality. (Nance and Williamson are developing a delightful interior passing chemistry.) He'll also have to make enough open 3s.
6. Our long crusade against take fouls is over
It only took proof of concept over years in both the G League and Europe; 4,782 angry columns and podcast rants; and approximately 50 righteous monologues from Jeff Van Gundy: the transition take foul is on its way out, to be missed only by (maybe) Kyle Lowry, Chris Paul, and every member of the Jazz from 2014 to 2022.
I don't much care that the increased penalty for these acts of cowardice -- one free throw plus possession -- will result in an uptick of hacks disguised as plays on the ball. If you can cloak your intentions well enough to fool referees, you are at some level making a semi-realistic basketball play. Those plays may be more dangerous than the old friendly clothesline-hugs, but players are careful. The benefits -- more fast breaks, fewer stoppages, more of what is known as "basketball"-- outweigh the risks.
Every game features at least one instance of a player reaching for the take foul, only to remember, Wait, I can't do that anymore! I have to run and play basketball! As with Garland below, you can pinpoint the millisecond when the would-be hacker realizes his predicament:
Enjoy your banishment to the netherworld of terrible ideas, stupid take foul. All the coaches and players who utilized you -- smirking at their faux hoops IQ -- will one day join you in sports Hades.
Long live basketball!
7. Detroit's path to staggering fun
This is mostly entertainment-related criticism, though it's easy to make a basketball case the Detroit Pistons should more rigidly stagger Cade Cunningham and Jaden Ivey -- and that starts with Killian Hayes shooting 5-of-30 so far.
Opponents have obliterated the Pistons by 25 points per 100 possessions with both Cunningham and Ivey on the bench, per Cleaning The Glass. The offense falls into a sinkhole without anyone to bend the defense. They're losing the Cunningham-Ivey minutes too, but the margin is normal and their offense hums at an above-average rate.
Maximizing their shared minutes -- and shared rest -- might help Cunningham and Ivey develop chemistry. It eases the burden on both; Ivey is a rookie, and Cunningham (with the exception of the first half Wednesday against the Atlanta Hawks) has not played yet with the same domineering force he showed over the second half of last season. That'll come.
Ivey is fearless. He's jacking 3s at a decent rate, and plunging into the paint. Considering his lightning speed, Ivey is ahead of the curve changing pace in traffic -- slowing down, and slipping interior passes.
Game by game, Dwane Casey gets closer to a full stagger setup. That's probably the right call, and for sure increases Detroit's Fun Efficiency Rating.
Casey faces thorny rotation choices once Alec Burks and Marvin Bagley III return. Bagley may start, which would slide Bojan Bogdanovic to the bench -- bumping someone (Hamidou Diallo?) from the rotation. Burks probably nudges out Cory Joseph; Hayes just turned 21, and the Pistons will give him chance after chance to justify their picking him No. 7 in 2020.
8. Daniel Gafford, caught in-between
Gafford is a solid backup, and one of the league's most prolific shot-blockers. He slams back shots with such violence, it is legitimately demoralizing. The downside: Gafford's pursuit of highlight rejections compromises the defensive glass. He chases some shots he has little chance of reaching, and ends up in no-man's land -- an in-between zone in which Gafford doesn't impact the shot or box out. You have to do one.
Gafford girds himself to leap at DeMar DeRozan's floater, but realizes pre-jump he's late. By then, Andre Drummond has carved out inside position. Gafford is flat-footed, with no chance to pivot into the scrum.
Gafford might be one of those pogo-stick types who is an elite offensive rebounder but subpar on the other end. The wizards (sorry) at Second Spectrum measure how likely it is for any player to snag a rebound based on their positioning when a shot goes up -- and which players exceed or fall short of expected rebounding rates. Out of almost 400 players who had at least 500 defensive rebounding chances last season, only three underperformed expectations by a larger margin than Gafford.
Two were the Lopez twins -- Brook and Robin. The Lopezes are box-out fiends. They don't get many rebounds themselves, but they wipe out multiple offensive players -- freeing teammates to inhale boards. Their teams rebound better when they play.
Gafford's teams hemorrhage offensive boards. On some nights -- including Tuesday against the Pistons -- Gafford finds the right balance, and hits people.
It seems a small thing, but the Wizards don't have much margin for error. Their starters -- including Kristaps Porzingis -- are carrying their weight, but the bench has struggled even amid Washington's hot start.
9. Drivin' Josh Hart
Hart has long been a one-man avalanche in transition. He might go 1-on-4 against Wilt Chamberlain, Bill Russell, Rudy Gobert, and Ben Wallace -- and somehow score. But as the best player still standing on last season's tanktastic March and April Portland Trail Blazers, Hart stretched himself as a ball handler in the half court too -- with solid results.
For the full season, New Orleans and Portland combined to score about 1.16 points when Hart shot out of a drive or passed to a teammate who fired -- 17th among 273 players who recorded at least 100 drives, per Second Spectrum.
Hart isn't driving now as often as he was last spring, but he's still well above his career averages. He has found his water level as a jack-of-all-trades for the 4-1 Blazers.
If Hart has even a slight size advantage, he can chisel through defenders with burrowing shoulders and churning spins:
Once Hart gets slight inside position, Kevin Huerter is toast.
Hart waits for Jerami Grant to flip the angle of his screen, and smush Huerter. That forces an emergency switch of Harrison Barnes onto Hart. Barnes is a little bigger than Hart; Hart does not care. The unplanned switch leaves about 10 feet of space between Hart and Barnes. Hart gobbles that up, gets Barnes turned around, and plows through him.
The new-look Blazers are fast, versatile, and tough around Damian Lillard. That's Hart -- a shooting guard with a defensive rebounding rate that would make some centers jealous.
10. The Nets' bad start
Five games is almost nothing, but what's worrisome about the Nets' 1-4 start -- against a strong schedule, to be fair -- is that they've been bad in precisely the ways you feared in downside scenarios. Ben Simmons shoots mostly when he catches the ball under the basket and has no choice. He's 4-of-10 from the line. He has 28 points in five games.
Simmons has been decent in transition, but even there he's sometimes pitching ahead too early to a teammate who doesn't have a great attack angle -- when Simmons himself has acres of open space down the middle.
The Nets are minus-42 in Simmons' 155 minutes. Lineups featuring Simmons and another non-shooting big -- Nic Claxton or Day'Ron Sharpe -- have been a jumbled disaster on offense. While Claxton screens up high, Simmons spectates from the baseline dead zone between the paint and the corner -- too far from the rim to be a threat on drop-offs or putbacks. Brooklyn plays 4-on-5 around him:
Any Simmons pick-and-roll is purely decorative; defenders ignore them until Simmons skulks to the baseline.
In their last two games, the Nets have minimized the Simmons-Claxton/Sharpe pairings and leaned more toward ultra-small lineups with Simmons at center -- including the group that may end up their best five: Kyrie Irving, Joe Harris, Royce O'Neale (playing really well!), Kevin Durant, and Simmons. But can those groups defend and rebound well enough? The Nets are dead last in defensive rebounding early. You can't win allowing opponents to vacuum up almost 40% of their misses.
Any of the bit players Nash might use to tighten up those lineups -- David Duke Jr., Edmond Sumner, Yuta Watanabe -- will compromise the shooting.
It's not all on Simmons. Steve Nash and the coaching staff have to put him in position to succeed -- using Simmons way more as a screener for Irving and Durant, and as a post facilitator. (They got good inside-out looks playing out of the post against the Bucks.) Simmons has to be willing to play that less-heralded role, and shoot when the situation dictates.
The Nets have looked better in their last two games, and the schedule eases now. We all knew it would take the Nets and Simmons time. The beefed-up East does not afford much of it. T.J. Warren and Seth Curry will help, but it's not clear how they mitigate any of Brooklyn's larger structural challenges. How much time does Nash have? How much losing will Durant tolerate before we hear trade request rumblings again?