In this week's 10 things, we highlight trends at the top of the East, two MVP favorites, a true-blue superstar in Oklahoma City, a rising top pick and much more.
1. When Giannis Antetokounmpo and the Milwaukee Bucks get it moving -- early
The Indiana Pacers somehow blew out Milwaukee on Thursday, but the most important general trend lines are pointing up. The Bucks are in a virtual tie for fifth in points per possession since Feb. 1. Their half-court offense ranks No. 4 in that stretch, per Cleaning The Glass.
We know Milwaukee's defense is impenetrable around the basket; it's probably the league's best defense at full throttle, though the Cleveland Cavaliers have a case. We know the Bucks are huge, and mean, and that they will bully everyone in the paint and on the glass. Their half-court offense has been their only real uncertainty for a half-decade now. When it works, they win.
For most of this season, it sputtered. The easy take was to wait for Khris Middleton, the Bucks' most important ball handler. Middleton is still not all the way back -- he doesn't seem to rise quite as high on his jumper yet -- but he's getting there. In his absence, Jrue Holiday assumed more ballhandling duty -- and reached a new, vicious confidence level with his step-back 3.
Things are clicking now, and it shows in Milwaukee's passing. Antetokounmpo has been getting rid of the ball earlier, snapping kickouts when help rotations are still coming:
It's fine in doses for superstars to hold the ball, wait for double- and triple-teams to swarm, and then pass. But wait that long, and defenses begin the second wave of rotations; they meet the next player on the catch.
Dishing it early can generate cleaner looks. You need a mix. Antetokounmpo flicking passes like that shows trust in his teammates -- always a good sign.
The entire ecosystem looks livelier:
Jae Crowder misses, but that's a fantastic cut and touch pass from Antetokounmpo.
Crowder gives the Bucks access to more lineup types, big and small. Bobby Portis is healthy. Joe Ingles and Jevon Carter add new ingredients. Middleton is starting again.
The Bucks are two games up in the loss column for the No. 1 seed in the East, and look like title favorites.
2. When Joel Embiid goes fast in the post
This is Embiid's best offensive season, and he too has been speedier in some key contexts.
Embiid's migration to the nail changed his career. He can hurt you in more ways, from more places. He is no longer overdependent on post-ups and wing isolations -- thorny pathways to scoring against defenses overloading every corridor.
Embiid is averaging 10 post touches per 100 possessions, easily a career low and down from 16 in the two seasons before James Harden's arrival, per Second Spectrum. Not coincidentally, Embiid is operating at peak efficiency levels on the block.
He is less deliberate -- affording defenses less time to load up. If defenses sag away from his entry passer -- and if that guy is a good shooter -- Embiid might touch the ball right back, before the opponent can trigger its next sequence of rotations:
He is hunting points with the same bang-bang ferocity, spinning into moves almost instantly:
Even if defenders guess right, the suddenness nudges them off balance -- forcing them to hack Embiid.
Embiid is, as ever, a foul-drawing machine. His turnover rate on post-ups is way down, per Second Spectrum -- a direct manifestation of the clarity in his vision.
The Sixers have scored a mammoth 1.25 points per possession on trips featuring an Embiid post touch, per Second Spectrum.
Philly is up to No. 3 in points per possession, and it scores at a top-10 rate when Embiid plays without Harden. I've been saying it since July: The Sixers have everything they need to make a title run.
3. Keep an eye on the Boston Celtics' streaky offense
The mighty Celtics, Las Vegas favorites to win the title since losing last season's Finals, are 13-10 in their past 23 games -- wobbling just as the other preeminent East powers seem to be locking into place.
The Celtics are 17th in points per possession over those 23 games. After scorching the league over the first two months of the season, their offense has been sapped of some verve. The return of Robert Williams III will help. Boston's inability to pressure the rim has reached borderline crisis levels. Their free throw rate over that 23-game stretch would rank 29th for the season. Williams' slashing cuts and verticality give Boston an entirely different identity; flipping between that look and five-out alignments with Al Horford at center ensures neither setup grows stale.
But Williams alone isn't enough. The Celtics need to find the right blend of random flow and calculation. There is magic in that zone between improvisation and purpose. It is hard to find, and harder to stay in, and it has eluded Boston for weeks.
At times, the Celtics' passing and cutting stall out. Sometimes, they aim that motion in the wrong places. They attack the toughest matchups, let weak defenders off the hook, look past ideal pick-and-roll combinations staring them in the face. Such haziness almost undid them in last year's conference finals against an overmatched Miami Heat team; they could not overcome it against the champion Warriors.
You can see Joe Mazzulla trying to right them out of timeouts, scripting sets in which Jayson Tatum and Jaylen Brown interact -- through screens, handoffs, cuts -- with undersized defenders. The Celtics are wary of over-choreographing things. They want this fast, versatile, smart team to play with freedom.
It just has to come underneath a larger strategic umbrella. If Boston doesn't get back to that sweet spot, it won't come out of the East again.
4. Jabari Smith Jr. isn't a bust -- not even close
On any night, some small moment can change the way you think about a player. Be wary. You might imbue that moment with too much importance. It could cloud your judgment. But you remember it, and come back to it.
For me, that moment with Smith came during the Houston Rockets' massive Nov. 25 comeback over the Atlanta Hawks. In the third quarter, the Hawks pulled away behind a barrage of 3-pointers. They decided to humiliate the Rockets. They talked trash, posed and preened. When Dejounte Murray dished to Trae Young for a triple midway through the third, he turned his back to the rim and began celebrating with Young's shot still in midair. When it dropped, putting Atlanta up 90-74, Young crouched on the sidelines, spread his arms to mimic Murray's airplane pose, high-fived Murray, and strutted back on defense.
Suddenly, there was a scuffle -- double technicals. One Rocket had had enough, and gotten in Murray's face: You're not going to embarrass us. It was Smith. I loved it. He showed fight. He didn't care that he was an untested teenaged rookie, anointing himself Houston's enforcer and standing up to an All-Star.
Smith played the entire fourth quarter, finishing with 21 points as the Rockets rallied to win.
For most of the next two months, Smith struggled within the Rockets' clogged, over-dribbly offense. At power forward next to Houston's armada of centers, he could rarely work as primary screen-setter -- meaning he did not get the pick-and-pop looks draftniks had envisioned. Houston's young guards were not exactly experts finding Smith on kickouts. He clanked most of the looks he got, pressed at times, and seemed to vanish over entire quarters. Meanwhile, Paolo Banchero announced himself a future star.
But there were glimpses. Smith battled on defense, always, using quick feet to toggle between bigs and wings. By early January, Smith was flashing a more confident off-the-bounce game -- both as the ball handler in unconventional big-big pick-and-rolls, and attacking closeouts. He busted out a snazzy lefty hesitation dribble:
The flashes grew more frequent each week.
That is a long-armed, 6-10 giant gliding into a Chris Paul-style snaking elbow jumper.
Smith nails the slick quarterback keeper, dips his shoulder into Myles Turner, and lays the ball in around one of the league's preeminent shot-blockers. Smith has even catapulted into some explosive rake-and-takes.
With Alperen Sengun out against Boston on Monday, Smith shifted to small-ball center -- and lit up the Celtics for 24 points on 9-of-11 shooting, all while guarding Jayson Tatum for stretches.
There is much more work. Smith is shooting 31% on 3s and 48% on 2s. He has 83 assists and 93 turnovers. How adept can he become creating his own shot? Can he develop a post game against mismatches?
But the work is the exciting part.
5. The other parts of Shai Gilgeous-Alexander's superstar breakout
Gilgeous-Alexander bursting into superstardom has been one of the most important developments of the season -- providing the Oklahoma City Thunder a clearer road map back to 50 wins (and beyond). Gilgeous-Alexander was already on an All-Star trajectory, but averaging 31 points on 51% shooting as the No. 1 option on an ultra-young team -- that is something else altogether. It is rare to see such volume and efficiency in these circumstances. It should land Gilgeous-Alexander on an All-NBA team.
There is a new air of calm dominion atop Gilgeous-Alexander's slithery, herky-jerky guile. He doesn't have to contort to the rim on every crunch-time possession (though he could). Gilgeous-Alexander has turned his midrange jumper into an artful, inexorable weapon -- lending him fierce control over the game.
Gilgeous-Alexander doesn't need a screen or a mismatch. At 6-6, he can shoot over almost any point guard and lots of wings. Against defenders who match his height, Gilgeous-Alexander changes pace -- step-backs, side-steps, shoulder fakes -- to open space. He is ungraspable.
Gilgeous-Alexander has ascended without short-changing defense. He has the physical tools and mental dexterity to be a very good multipositional defender. He did not look out of his depth as a rookie in the postseason chasing the Splash Brothers through the Golden State Warriors' moving mazes of picks and cuts.
There are five rotation players averaging at least one block and one steal this season: four big men (Joel Embiid, Jaren Jackson Jr., Jakob Poeltl, and Anthony Davis) and Gilgeous-Alexander -- at 1.7 steals and one block.
He's not breaking scheme to hunt highlights. Gilgeous-Alexander is becoming scary good at the really rude thing of pickpocketing his own man from right in front of the poor sucker's face:
YOINK!
He's tall enough to block his own guy's shot, and can be a real deterrent as a help defender:
What a season -- with playoff hopes still alive.
6. The non-scoring parts of James Wiseman's game
Wiseman is averaging 13 points on 54% shooting for the Detroit Pistons and inhaling rebounds -- and he's still far away from contributing to winning basketball. It was obvious long ago -- and not surprising, given Wiseman barely played in college and entered the NBA during a pandemic -- he would not master the subtleties in time for Stephen Curry, Klay Thompson, and Draymond Green. The Warriors had to trade Wiseman for anyone who was ready, now, and the best they could do -- in their view -- was an injured backup.
Wiseman has twice as many turnovers as assists for his career. With more responsibility in Detroit, Wiseman's decision-making has deteriorated: He has nine assists and 24 turnovers in 13 games.
The entire arena is screaming about Marvin Bagley III standing alone under the rim before Wiseman realizes he is there. By then, it's nearly too late -- and Wiseman's pass is juuuusst a bit outside.
Two quarters later:
You have to anticipate that rotation.
The lack of feel is more damaging on defense. Wiseman drops so far back on the pick-and-roll as to be almost underneath the rim -- conceding layups and easy floaters. He leaps at fakes, and at shots he has no chance to block -- leaving the glass unattended. When he meets ball handlers higher up, he often takes wonky angles.
I have always been a lukewarm Wiseman defender. The raw talent is in there. The lack of experience -- compounded by injuries -- derailed him. He had no chance learning the NBA's most sophisticated read-and-react offense. The Pistons are in full-on tank mode -- not a representative NBA environment.
Wiseman threw some crisp passes Thursday night against the Denver Nuggets, and looked lighter on his feet on defense. Progress.
7. Klay Thompson's ... passing?
Thompson's season turned in mid-November, when he stopped forcing it and rediscovered he could always get his organically within the Warriors' beautiful game offense.
Thompson will never rack up assists. He is a finisher at heart -- often the Warriors' fourth ball handler, bobbing and weaving around screens as Curry and Green orchestrate. But anyone who draws as much attention as Thompson -- a roving five-alarm fire, always -- can spring teammates, and the quality of Thompson's passes has been higher for the past three-plus months.
There has been a lot more of this:
Thompson has a shot there, but he knows Ivica Zubac might lurch toward him if he hesitates or even picks up his bounce -- unlocking a dunk for Kevon Looney.
The Warriors never want to discourage Thompson's shoot-first instincts. That's his job. But he's at his best when he keeps all possibilities open.
Early in the season, Thompson jacks that catch-and-shoot 3 or pulls up for an 18-footer. He prods instead. The first pass -- the one the defense expects -- is to Jonathan Kuminga in the paint. Thompson spots Luguentz Dort rotating there, and senses a chance to skip the middleman -- Kuminga -- and create a wide-open triple for Jordan Poole.
Never skirt past what Thompson has accomplished in the past two seasons. He suffered two devastating leg injuries, and is now as good as ever on offense.
Thompson's next task: figuring out how a team seeded No. 5 or worse can win the title without winning a road game. If anyone can do it, it's Klay!
8. Herbert Jones anxiety
Jones walked into the league as an All-Defensive talent. Hell, his arms almost count as an extra sixth defender. On offense, he's creative off the bounce -- with an elongated, side-stepping style and canny vision.
Those skills will never really get to sing if defenses ignore Jones on the perimeter. You can't pump-and-go by defenders if they never bother jogging toward you.
Jones hit 34% from deep last season, just below league average, and launched with confidence in some high-stakes games. It was semi-encouraging.
Jones is down to 29.3% this season at the same middling volume. On average, the closest defender is almost 9 feet from Jones when he launches a triple -- the seventh highest such distance among all rotation players, per Second Spectrum. Opponents hide weak defenders on him.
Jones can skulk for cuts and offensive rebounds -- he's had some productive games in the past two weeks -- but the overall spacing crunch is suffocating.
When injuries vaporized the Pelicans' big man rotation recently, Jones came to life as a small-ball center -- screening and diving with shooters around him. That's not a viable long-term look. Jones could play that role on offense alongside a stretchy, shot-blocking center -- a Myles Turner/Brook Lopez type -- but those are hard to find. How does Zion Williamson fit into that vision?
Jones should spend more time in the dunker spot, and could thrive there in small-ball lineups with Williamson at center. (Williamson has played 114 games in four seasons. Can the Pelicans base roster decisions around him anymore?)
If Jones doesn't refine his jumper, he could be a taller Tony Allen -- a game-changing defender rendered unplayable in the deep postseason. Jones is already 24, so he's not a young prospect. Hopefully the tide shifts soon.
9. Kyle Anderson, floater god
The Minnesota Timberwolves would be done without the shape-shifting Slow-Mo -- the starter likely to be demoted when Karl-Anthony Towns returns. Anderson defends across every position; he can stay in front of quicker ball handlers -- or bother their shots from behind if they scoot past him -- and covers tons of space in rotations. With Anderson, Jaden McDaniels, and Anthony Edwards, the Wolves are much better equipped than the Utah Jazz were to maintain defensive integrity when opponents go five-out -- and drag Rudy Gobert to the perimeter.
Anderson has done enough on offense for Minnesota to survive Towns' absence; the Wolves have scored at a league-average rate with Gobert and Anderson on the floor, and that's good enough given their elite defense in those minutes.
Anderson is a classic connector. If some random cut, screen, or touch pass jolts Minnesota from stasis into an easy shot, there's a good chance Anderson was the main character. He is Minnesota's zone-buster, flashing to the middle and spraying passes.
He has done more this season finishing possessions, both as scorer and passer:
About 43% of Anderson's attempts have come from floater range -- the highest share among all rotation players, per Cleaning The Glass. He has drained a remarkable 51% of those shots.
Gobert and Anderson are at their best in the paint. Spacing is cluttered. The Wolves need to be adaptable to scrounge points, and most of that burden has fallen onto Anderson. He's setting more ball screens -- allowing Gobert to hang in the dunker spot -- and manufacturing points.
Anderson is also averaging 4.5 assists, easily a career high, and has hit 35-of-81 (43%) on 3s.
The quartet of Anthony Edwards, Anderson, McDaniels, and Gobert has been dominant -- with either Mike Conley or D'Angelo Russell rounding out lineups. The Wolves can't afford much slippage reintegrating Towns.
10. The take foul prohibition is working so well -- you barely remember them
The highest praise you can give the NBA's (long overdue) move to try to eradicate transition take fouls is that the memory of their grotesque existence is fading. Early in the season, I'd experience a jolt of nausea at sequences like this:
Last season (and for the 10 before it), the defender in Kyle Anderson's position was 100% wrapping up Royce O'Neale. You can almost see Anderson wind up before remembering the new beefed-up penalties. In October and November, I'd have involuntarily begun rolling my eyes upon Anderson's lunging approach: Here we go. Another stoppage. How clever. /Barf
Now I luxuriate in the uninterrupted flow -- ball handlers screaming down the floor, plotting finishes and checking their rearview mirrors, desperate defenders sizing up chase-down blocks. Only afterward -- if at all -- do I register the novelty: Oh yeah! We might not have gotten that goodness last year!
Hooray for common sense and basketball!