In our last 10 Things before the trade deadline, we highlight the strange defending champions, star guards in Oklahoma City and Charlotte, North Carolina, a rising backup in New York and more.
1. Waiting on the Golden State Warriors
There haven't been many teams more baffling after 50-plus games than these defending champions. So much information suggests a run is coming -- the kind of eight-out-of-10 blaze that roars: Oh, we're here. We never left.
The ball has been popping since the Warriors installed their Poole Party small-ball group as their starting five. Their old starting five -- with Kevon Looney in Jordan Poole's place -- still has the second-fattest scoring margin of all five-man lineups.
They appear to have conquered their inability to function when Stephen Curry rests. They are plus-1.1 per 100 possessions when Draymond Green plays without Curry, per Cleaning the Glass. The trio of Poole, Donte DiVincenzo, and Jonathan Kuminga is plus-5.6 per 100 possessions without Curry. Anthony Lamb has given Golden State a dependable nine-man rotation before they dip into Moses Moody, Ty Jerome, Andre Iguodala or James Wiseman.
And yet, they keep running in place. They gag away games in graceless, almost absurd fashion -- including their fall-from-ahead job against the Minnesota Timberwolves on Wednesday. Two weeks ago, they couldn't get over the hump against the Chicago Bulls -- surrendering 132 points -- and rebounded by (barely) pulling away from the Washington Wizards.
None of their wins are convincing. Where are the blowouts? The Warriors are 16th in offensive efficiency and 16th in defense. Their total scoring margin is minus-18. They are, almost perfectly, average.
Some of their breakdowns suggest a champion yawning through the doldrums: their "Yakety Sax" blooper turnovers, the miscommunications on defense. The Warriors know they have an extra gear. Turnovers have always been in their DNA. But even in prior "wake me in the playoffs" campaigns, Golden State played clean defense.
Maybe Green slugging Poole has some hangover effect, though no one within the team seems to really believe that. Andrew Wiggins is still getting his legs back under him after missing a month. Maybe it's something harder to spot?
Golden State has the No. 4 effective field goal percentage on offense, behind only the Brooklyn Nets, Denver Nuggets, and Sacramento Kings -- the league's first, second and sixth-ranked offenses. It should have an elite offense. It doesn't.
The Warriors are 29th in turnover rate, last in free throws and 22nd in offensive rebounding. They are almost entirely dependent on making their first shot on any given possession. They had a similar statistical profile in their past two seasons before Kevin Durant's arrival, but not quite so extreme. They were never in the basement in free throw rate. They were around average in turnovers -- and slightly better than average in their 73-win season. They were smothering on defense.
Even setting aside defense, the structure isn't holding the same on offense. The margin for error playing this way -- banking it all on making your one and only shot every damned time -- is slim to begin with. A minor slippage in talent could tilt it out of balance.
I have believed all season there is a run coming. I still believe it. Maybe a trade could help. The numbers are bullish, though less so every day. Time runs thin.
2. The Miami Heat cut
The Heat didn't invent this cut, but they use it more than anyone:
Tyler Herro and Bam Adebayo run their two-man game with only Jimmy Butler on the weak side. That puts Butler's man -- Gordon Hayward -- in a precarious position. It's his job to crash inside on Adebayo, but doing so risks leaving Butler open.
Butler doesn't chill in the corner, though. Instead, he makes what has become his and the Heat's signature cut: He slides across the baseline, into Herro's driving lane. With Hayward fixated on Adebayo, it effectively becomes a backdoor cut, setting Butler up for one of his pivoty floaters.
Butler and Caleb Martin are the Heat's resident experts at this. This cut works just as well with two players on the weak side -- one in the corner, and one on the wing; it drags one defender further into the middle, leaving more space for shooters.
A lot of Miami's core lineups feature three average or worse 3-point shooters. Spacing is cluttered. The Heat have to manipulate slivers with cuts, screens, and passes, prying narrow corridors. They pass and move through those corridors until they widen enough for someone to shoot. They make music in the clutter.
The Heat win with defense. They're up to No. 5 in points allowed per possession despite hot opponent jump-shooting that has persisted all season. They are No. 1 in forcing turnovers but don't foul much -- a hard balance to strike. They're No. 4 in defensive rebounding. The fundamentals are rock solid.
Keep an eye on their offense. They're an ugly 27th overall, but they have poured in 116 points per 100 possessions with both Butler and Adebayo on the floor -- equivalent to the No. 5 team offense. Both guys thrive in tight spaces. The Heat are 18-10 since early December, barely holding off the New York Knicks for the coveted No. 6 spot but also only two games in the loss column behind the Cleveland Cavaliers for No. 5.
Martin has turned into a nice stopgap in the wake of P.J. Tucker's departure. In preseason, the Heat envisioned the quintet of Kyle Lowry, Herro, Victor Oladipo, Butler, and Adebayo as one potential closing lineup; that group has logged just 48 minutes. (They have used that same group with other players -- Gabe Vincent, Martin -- in Lowry's place.)
Miami doesn't have the upside of the East's top three, but it will pose an upset threat -- assuming it avoids the play-in.
3. The decisiveness of the new Mikal Bridges
Since Jan. 1 with Devin Booker and Chris Paul mostly out, Bridges has run about 18.5 pick-and-rolls per 100 possessions -- nine times (nine times!) his miniscule career rate, per Second Spectrum tracking.
Phoenix has scored about 1.23 points per possession in that stretch on any trip featuring a Bridges pick-and-roll -- a mark that would rank about 15th among rotation ball handlers. Bridges' assists have jumped, and his turnovers have stayed low. In his past 16 games, Bridges is averaging 20 points and five assists.
He has been decisive attacking space and kicking to shooters:
Bridges has a knack for threading long-distance bounce passes through traffic. He is a confident entry passer:
Phoenix has won six of eight to save its season after a brutal 2-12 stretch in which half the team was injured. This hot streak started two games before Paul's return. (Booker is still out.)
It is not an indictment of Bridges that he needed some critical mass of talent around him to translate his increased ballhandling into wins. It's almost the opposite. No one expects Bridges to be a No. 1-ish option. Bridges managing this well on moderate volume in this context is a fantastic indicator that he's ready to do more. There is a huge middle ground between spot-up guy and No. 1 ball handler. Elite teams usually have lots of guys who live in that middle ground.
The Suns have all the makings of a trade-deadline wild card: new incoming governor, all their picks, a mercurial young center on a max contract, a proven winning infrastructure, a middling record and a big age gap between their two best players. There is always a trade that catches everyone off guard. Phoenix is one of several candidates to make it.
4. Tyrese Maxey's defense
Maxey will never be a stopper, but there's no reason he can't be average guarding ball handlers. He's turbo-fast, smart and agile enough to slither around picks. He has a 6-6 wingspan.
He's just not there. You can understand Doc Rivers' decision to bring Maxey off the bench and cut the minutes Maxey shares the floor with James Harden. The Sixers still play them together, including in promising three-guard combinations with De'Anthony Melton; they'll need the Harden-Maxey groups to survive on defense to get where they want to go (and haven't been since Allen Iverson's prime).
Maxey smashes into too many picks, falling out of the play and forcing crisis rotations from teammates -- elongated slides that open holes everywhere. Smart ball handlers juke Maxey with ball and shoulder fakes as they approach screens:
He's not as intuitive as you'd expect with the game in motion:
Yuta Watanabe is not Maxey's man here, but Maxey should probably improvise a switch as Watanabe jogs by.
Maxey has to get better, fast, and whether he does is one of the most important subplots of the stretch run.
5. When LaMelo Ball moves it early
It's hard to read anything into Ball's season. He has missed half of it. The Hornets are in shambles -- and in trade talks about almost all their veterans, per league sources.
But Ball's game has felt 15% off balance -- too much score-first freelancing. Ball is one of only five players jacking at least 11 3s per 36 minutes. The others are Stephen Curry, Klay Thompson, Damian Lillard, and Malik Beasley -- three immortals, and one bench gunner.
He is the only player with a usage rate above 30% averaging fewer than four free throw attempts per 36 minutes. Only 22% of his shots have come at the rim -- a career low. (Some of that might be due to ankle issues.)
Again: this is a 21-year-old star on a bad team. Ball sees things few do, and he's tall enough at 6-7 to actualize those visions.
That's why I perk up at passes like this:
That side-armed laser is out of Ball's hands before he even hits the 3-point arc. There is no dribble circus, no wasted motion. A pass released that early can catch help defenders leaning toward the paint -- and away from shooters. The key help defender here -- Max Strus -- has to plant, pivot and rush back to P.J. Washington. Defenders in that bind are often late, or sprinting so furiously that any ball handler can pump-and-go by them.
The next good Charlotte team -- whenever that emerges -- should have Ball slinging more of this gold.
6. The (mostly) good and (rarely) bad of Shai Gilgeous-Alexander's midranger
Gilgeous-Alexander's midranger has become one of the game's elite one-on-one weapons. He doesn't need a screen to get it off. At 6-6, he can shoot over most point guards. He nudges bigger defenders off balance with a bottomless array of fakes and staccato dribbles.
About half of Gilgeous-Alexander's shots this season have come from the midrange, by far a career high. He's shooting 49% from floater range and 44% on long 2s -- tidy numbers. Only Luka Doncic averages more isolations per 100 possessions than Gilgeous-Alexander -- 19.8 to 17.7, according to Second Spectrum. The Oklahoma City Thunder have scored 1.15 points per possession out of those isolations -- an elite number.
But over the past two weeks, Gilgeous-Alexander's infatuation with this shot has reached a level where you at least have to monitor it. Over Oklahoma City's past eight games, 58% of Gilgeous-Alexander's shots have come from the midrange -- a spike that puts him near DeMar DeRozan frequency. His isolations have jumped from 17 per 100 possessions to almost 23.
Remarkably, Gilgeous-Alexander has maintained his efficiency; he's hit 49% of midrangers in those eight games. He's getting to the rim at a good rate. But there have been more tough shots early in the clock, against stifling defense:
None of this is a problem. You just wonder: Hasn't the Thunder's supporting cast earned a little more trust? Could Gilgeous-Alexander perhaps take more 3s -- including off the catch, after giving the ball up and getting it back? There is always some tipping point where one guy is doing too much.
Regardless: Gilgeous-Alexander is a no-brainer All-Star (I voted him a starter) and All-NBA candidate.
7. A cool and simple Boston Celtics set
You shouldn't over-choreograph offense, but I love when the Celtics start possessions in this alignment -- especially when Robert Williams III is resting:
Boston is at its best when it combines fast movement with mismatch hunting. This alignment guarantees the right blend. Boston's two stars begin at the elbows, with Malcolm Brogdon up top. Al Horford and Grant Williams are spread to the corners, taking the biggest defenders far from the rim.
Boston's three perimeter players can choose among screening actions pairing Brogdon with one of Jayson Tatum and Jaylen Brown, forcing the Knicks to pick between bad options: Switch the much shorter Jalen Brunson onto one of those stars, or kick into rotations that could leave shooters open.
Tatum and Brown can also dart to the corners and toggle into two-man games with Williams and Horford, foisting different unpleasant choices onto the Knicks: Do you want to switch one of your bigger, slower defenders onto one of Boston's All-Stars?
When Boston loses the plot on offense, scripting a possession to open in this structure can right it.
This same arrangement still works with one non-shooter -- Williams III, the only non-shooter in Boston's rotation. He's a skilled passer from the elbows. Stick him there, and dance.
Boston is very hard to guard with five shooters, but its offense has been just as good with Williams III. Its defense has been even stingier. Boston allows very little at the basket with Williams III lurking. Most of those opponent rim attacks become 3-pointers -- and, pointedly, non-corner 3s, per Cleaning The Glass.
Boston allows the fewest corner 3s in the league and the second-fewest shots in the restricted area. After a slow start, it is No. 5 in points allowed per possession. Boston has two identities -- one with Williams III, the other with five shooters -- and it functions as a two-way powerhouse in both.
8. Immanuel Quickley, in the flow, rounding out the Knicks
Quickley since Dec. 20: 17 points, 3.6 assists, 4 rebounds and 49% shooting -- including 39% from deep, correcting a long-range slump that seemed to worry everyone but Quickley. The Knicks are plus-6 per 100 possessions with Quickley on the floor and minus-4 when he rests; for three seasons, they have won Quickley's minutes.
He has turned into a sixth starter who shape-shifts between roles. On units with only one or two starters, Quickley orchestrates more. In starter-heavy groups, Quickley flits around as an opportunistic spot-up scorer -- pushing the pace, jacking catch-and-shoot 3s, knifing into the paint for floaters and kickouts when defenders run him off the arc. Versions of New York's starting five with Quickley in place of Quentin Grimes or RJ Barrett have big positive scoring margins. Tom Thibodeau has played Quickley over Barrett some in crunch time.
Quickley brings a jolt of randomness to New York's slower, risk-averse half-court offense. No matter how good your one-on-one players are -- and Julius Randle and Jalen Brunson are really good -- you can't beat the best defenses if they know what's coming every time.
That's a sophisticated play in the flow. Quickley catches Derrick White and Williams III in a moment of confusion, and rises to shoot. But Quickley has backup plans. As White, panicked, leaps toward him, Quickley pings the ball to Barrett and jets into a give-and-go with White still airborne. Quickley knows his options before even catching Barrett's return pass: Isaiah Hartenstein under the rim, Obi Toppin on the wing. He takes what the defense gives.
Quickley's defense, long-armed and buzzy, is a constant. He is one of the league's best rebounding guards.
Quickley was a hot name on the trade market early in the season. Did New York want to pay Quickley's contract extension? It's clear now: If the Knicks want to win, they need Quickley -- or equivalent talent.
9. Walker Kessler understands his job
Boy, it must sting Minnesota to see how good Kessler is already. It forked over so much draft capital for Rudy Gobert, Kessler's inclusion barely made it into the analysis of that mega-trade.
Kessler has earned the Utah Jazz starting center job with steady play on both ends. There is a certain calm to Kessler's game that is unusual for rim-running, shot-blocking young bigs. He is never chasing anything -- never flying out of control, or breaking from Utah's scheme.
Kessler is fourth in offensive rebounding rate, but he rarely imperils Utah's transition defense by lunging for boards he has no chance at. A lot of his offensive rebounds arise organically from Kessler setting monster screens and rolling hard. Those cuts put Kessler in ideal rebounding position. He's gigantic, with sticky hands:
The same nimble control powers his precocious defense.
That looks like a 10-year veteran. Kessler sees Malik Beasley navigate that first screen unscathed, so he hangs back. He anticipates the next play -- and notices that Paul Reed smashes Talen Horton-Tucker with that pin-down for Georges Niang. Kessler steps up and slides to his left to cut off Niang. But he's not over-aggressive. He doesn't shift too far. He knows the pocket pass to Reed might be there, and he's primed to pivot back.
Kessler isn't worried about blocking shots. He goes straight up, satisfied with blotting out Reed's vision and forcing a miss. (He blocked it anyway.) Opponents are shooting 52.1% at the rim with Kessler nearby. Among 53 players who defend at least four such shots per game, only four -- Jaren Jackson Jr., Nicolas Claxton, Draymond Green and Daniel Gafford -- are allowing a lower percentage.
The long-term project is Kessler rounding out his on-ball offensive game to be viable in heavy postseason minutes. But the raw materials of a really good center are here.
10. Malaki Branham's floater
You're forgiven for ignoring the San Antonio Spurs. Their most important long-term player (at least until the lottery) -- Devin Vassell -- is injured. Most of their veterans beyond Keldon Johnson are trade bait.
But you've missed a couple of interesting things. It has been a rollicking six weeks for Jeremy Sochan, morphing into a buoyant jack-of-all trades -- even honing a jagged, physical one-on-one-game against size mismatches.
As for Branham, I have no clue what he is. That's fine; he's 19. His numbers are underwhelming. He has looked uncomfortable running the offense, rickety getting the ball beyond midcourt. But he walked into the league with a mature, varied midrange game, and perhaps he can build out a workable role from there.
Branham flicks lots of floaters from lots of angles, and he has hit half of them. He launches longer push shots from the elbows after bobbing behind multiple screens -- a counter for defenses ducking picks against him:
He has a soft touch on floaters from the edges of the paint, including beauties that hit high on the glass and drip down. Branham is 6-5, and can burrow his way to contested one-on-one floaters against smaller defenders.
Branham has flashed straight-line explosiveness attacking closeouts, but he'll need to shoot better from deep to unlock that skill in spot-up situations. He has the tools to be a solid defender.