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Tag Archives: LaMelo Ball
Part 2 of a Multi-Part Series on Point Guards; Alternately: LaMelo Ball: Between Lazy and Opportunistic
December 30, 2019Posted by on
NOTE: This piece was originally written as being inclusive of both LaMelo Ball and RJ Hampton and the opening couple paragraphs read with that intention in place. However, after slipping into the writing process and realizing I had a lot to say about Ball’s passing, shooting, and defense, I opted to keep the focus of this piece on LaMelo and change what was supposed to be a 3 or 4-part series into an open-ended “multi-part” series. Thank you for your patience as my attempts at planning and self-restraint are clearly lacking.
Beyond the novelty of two American-born basketball playing teenagers venturing thousands of miles away from home to prepare for certain induction into the NBA, exist two young men who are ascending as pro prospects, positionally ranked side-by-side, yet performing and projecting as polar opposites: LaMelo Ball, a being who sits at the center of his world, on and off the court, with teammates and cameras and narratives orbiting around him. The other, RJ Hampton, comparatively anonymous, but apparently utilitarian as a basketball player, a peacock of sorts comfortably clothed in muted grays, whites, and blacks.
For context, I have already written about Cole Anthony and still have Nico Mannion, Tyrese Haliburton, and Kira Lewis Jr.to cover in part three (and likely Tyrese Maxey, Theo Maledon, and Killian Hayes in a yet-to-be-considered part four). As tiers are a core theme of classification in the draft Twitter realms, I’d probably bucket Cole and LaMelo together and then Hampton, Mannion, and Haliburton in a second tier with Lewis Jr at the back. Hayes, Maledon and Maxey would be dispersed between tiers two and three. I mention this because the separation between these point guard prospects is tenuous at best. Specifically tenuous in the sense that I’m plagued by deep self-doubt about under-ranking the Tyreses (Haliburton and Maxey) who are barging their way up up up my list with consistency of output and effort.
Overall context aside, let’s hop in with two feet, two hands and any other appendages you want to bring along (yours or someone else’s – with consent) and differentiate our American-gone-Australia/New Zealand teenage point guards.
Ball is fascinating as a prospect. His game and ability are most similar to Mannion’s in that they each have a deep feel for the game that reveals itself primarily in their passing and vision, but also crops up in opportunistic defensive situations. What’s ironic about Ball’s feel coming through on the defensive end is that his lack-of-consistent defensive effort rivals that of MVP-year Russell Westbrook or peak-YouTube James Harden and once seen becomes near impossible to unsee. This dichotomy isn’t new for an NBA player, but in a prospect who presents as Picasso on one end (passing, creation) and a muppet baby on the other (defense), before even arriving in the NBA, it’s kind of disconcerting.
Let’s start with Melo’s offensive gifts. I think, with the right kind of eyes, you can see rainbows and starbursts shooting from his fingers on certain passes. There’s an audacity to high level passing, a feeling, a self-confidence, a willingness to risk it all (or maybe just risk one single, itsy bitsy turnover) in exchange something like selfishly orchestrated cooperation. These are the attributes of Melo and they exist in a lanky, 6-foot-5 frame with loose Jamal Crawford limbs that lack the elder Crawford’s control, yet still obey Melo’s wishes on demand.
He’s long and a legitimate point guard. While lacking plus-speed or quickness, he has surprisingly good acceleration, particularly off the defensive glass where his long strides and ball control allow him to get out and take advantage of scrambling defenses. But Melo doesn’t need the advantage of a break away to push the defense on its heels. His basketball IQ is expressed through a bottomless feel, hyper awareness (not just of teammates and defenders, but seemingly of teammate strength and preference), and improvisation that translate just as well to the half-court. Being tall and imbued of passing genes and vision makes life easier and despite having just turned 18 in August and still physically maturing, Ball is at home in his body, able to take full advantage of his size.
His size and vision/feel combination make his passing the strongest skill of any player I have in the lottery. It’s a talent that exceeds Anthony Edwards’ athleticism and pull up game, is better than Cole Anthony’s tight burst and shooting, exceeds Mannion’s passing, goes beyond James Wiseman’s rim protecting potential and Onyeka Okongwu’s skillful bullying. In an NBA that’s evolved into a chess match of floor spacing and geometry, a passer with Ball’s panoptic ability and size can bend the game in ways that he may not have been able to in the past.
Passing is the primary, the raison d’etre, but it doesn’t exist alone. We desire that the offensive skills should work in concert with one another and in Melo, this is partially the case and where we will segue from strengths into weaknesses and opportunities. For his passing to be fully weaponized, his shot and handle require fine tuning and efficiency. The handle is there already with those floppy arms and dexterous hands, the ball is an extension of the hand which is under control of the mind. In LaMelo, it works together in a simultaneously choreographed and improvised ballet: the moves, from the head and eyes to the arms and hands, to the hips and feet executing in sequences born in Chino Hills, fine tuned in Lithuania and Ohio, and finally being upgraded in Australia at the youthful age of 18. Because the handle is so strong, Ball can beat stronger defenders and force help and this ultimately creates the same type of advantage of a fast break: defense scrambling, teammates cutting and spotting up, and Melo orchestrating.
If the handle and passing are two pieces of the puzzle, the third is the shooting – inside and out, off the catch and off the move. It’s not good. In his 12 games with Illawarra, he’s shooting 37.5% from the field while hitting 25% on 80 three-point attempts and 46% on twos. For context, there are just two NBA players (Jordan Poole [24%] and Russell Westbrook [24%]) shooting this poorly with similar or greater volume and no college players. The inefficiency from deep doesn’t stop Melo from chucking as he’s attempting nearly seven threes/game. It’s too early to abandon all hope though as Melo’s shown in-season improvement from deep. He started the season 3-26 (11.5%) from deep and over his last 54 attempts, is shooting 31.4%. It’s still well-below where you’d like him to be but it shows development and adaptation. It could also show streakiness.
I don’t have any advanced shooting stats on Melo, but in viewing his NBL games, there’s a strong preference for shooting threes off the dribble with traces of the bad habits of pulling from Steph Curry range that simultaneously made him a household name and make one question that otherwise radiant basketball IQ. His shot selection is poor and self-indulgent. It’s possible he’s using the NBL as a laboratory of sorts and exploring what he is and isn’t capable of in game-speed situations, but that’s really the only explanation for some of the ill-advised deep threes he shoots and far-fetched at that. That he occasionally hits one doesn’t validate the shot. Sticking with the decision making, if he hits one shot, there’s a good chance he’s pulling up off the dribble on the next attempt. Existing in a state of heat check when you’re a 25% three-point shooter is hopefully just a sign of immaturity rather than deeply ingrained habit, but again, it calls into question his ability to combat his own on-court impulses and somewhat reduces his otherwise galvanizing playmaking.
While he’s partial towards the pull-up three, his catch-and-shoot threes tend to look quite a bit better with greater symmetry and balance, but still that funky release. This isn’t a surprise, but there are pros and cons to it: On the pro side, it shows that his mechanics aren’t broken. He has touch that translates on rim drives, the free throw line (72% in NBL), and C&S threes. The con is that he rarely gets C&S opportunities as he’s rightly a primary ball-handler. I’ll turn to friend-of-the-blog, Cameron Purn for a deeper description of his shot mechanics and some of the problems that stem from it:
Both of LaMelo’s elbows flare out wide, and his release point can sit as low his nose. His right hand sits on the side of the ball as opposed to the bottom; his left thumb is involved in the shot motion to counteract the spin from the right. His base sees variance from time to time with the right leg periodically sticking out to begin the motion; can land with both feet facing perpendicular to the rim. Amount of knee bend and lower body involvement has been inconsistent. Sometimes inserts a backwards lean involving a kick-out, which offsets his balance. Follow-through has been inconsistent. Outside shot is technically a set shot; doesn’t generate much lift
From my own viewing, the inconsistency Cameron references in Ball’s knee bend and lower body are a key source of his inefficiencies. His misses often are not close misses, but airballs and bricks that are a byproduct of his frequent imbalances and high-degree-of-difficulty shots.
But where his deep ball is an inconsistent shitshow of outcomes, he exhibits remarkable touch on his floater and finishing around the basket. The handle and threat of the pass, often set up by head and eye fakes, is such that he can frequently break down defenders and get into the paint. He’s somewhat deceptive in terms of athleticism. During the warmups of one game, he was attempting the off-the-bounce, ball-through-the-legs dunk with relative ease. This doesn’t imply functional athleticism, but in Ball’s case, he gets up quickly, if not terribly high. Combined with his in-air ball control, he’s shown ability to finish. His strength still acts as an impediment though as against NBL defenders, he can be swallowed and have his shot smothered. The inability to do small things like create space by bumping a defender off balance with a shoulder limits his overall attack.
I’m not convinced the off-the-bounce three-ball comes around and if it doesn’t, it somewhat calls to mind the treatment given to a young, three-point-averse Rajon Rondo. To be clear, Melo’s a better shooter as an 18-year-old than Rondo was even in his late 20s and so getting a Ben Simmons-type treatment isn’t going to happen. That said, there’s an efficiency low point where defenses start playing off him, daring him to take the shot and living with his infrequent makes. Is it 30% on seven attempts? 25% on five attempts? I’m not sure, but him reaching average off-the-dribble levels of three-point accuracy is far from a guarantee.
Before probing the festering sore of his defensive woes, it’s worth acknowledging that his preternatural feel for basketball reveals itself on the defensive end and inspired the subtitle: “Between Lazy & Opportunistic.” In the NBL, he’s shown a strong grasp for team and help defense, a skill that seems propelled by an ability to anticipate and react. The problem with this ability is twofold: 1) it occurs infrequently so it’s not something his team can presently depend on. Maybe he’ll anticipate and react, or, more likely, he’ll be standing stiff-legged with his hands at his sides. 2) this anticipation is a form of opportunism and requires an awareness of where the ball is that often leads to Melo losing his man. This opportunism is embodied by the ball acting as a magnet of sorts. He can force turnovers through his anticipation and quick reactions and rebounds decently for his position due to his size and ball tracking.
So while his defense isn’t a complete wash, that he shows occasions of positive impact almost acts as a source of frustration at the rarity of occurrence. His defense is awful despite any positive impact. And it’s awful in multiple facets.
Probably the most glaring weak point of his defense is his uneven effort, particularly off the ball. More often than not, Ball can be found on the defensive end standing straight-legged with his arms at his sides, not necessarily resting or conserving energy, but just standing, usually watching the ball. This position of unprepared ball fascination makes him an easy target to be backdoored and cut on. And because he’s not in a ready position, even when he does have the “oh shit” realization that he’s lost his man, he’s neither quick enough or in a defensive stance that would allow him to quickly react. This statuesque ole bullshit reminds me of Roger Dorn in Major League, the aging third baseman who’s more concerned about taking a grounder off the face than he is about making the right play. Melo doesn’t seem to have the same concerns, but the outcome is the same.
On-the-ball, he’s an easy target for screeners as his lithe frame and lack of fight allow him to be taken completely out of plays. Throughout my notes, I reference him dying on screens. On occasion, he’s shown a willingness to lock in and get through the screen, but similar to his team defense, the effort and engagement are so inconsistent as to be unreliable. His physical limitations don’t stop on screens. Against other NBL guards, older and stronger in almost every case, he’s plowed through like inanimate traffic cones or Saints defenders circa 2011 trying to wrangle Marshawn Lynch. In football terms, he’s an arm tackler easily run through by opponents, his resistance nominal at best. Similarly, the lacking strength and effort make his boxouts, when they do occur, ineffective at best. While he can rebound well with good hands and nose for the ball, he completely detaches from his man when the shot goes up, and is prone to giving up offensive boards on errant misses.
It’s fair to acknowledge his age as the key factor in his strength and even his focus, but as is the case with Anthony Edwards and his shot selection, the questions come back to habits for LaMelo. Are these habits deep enough that he can’t unlearn them or are the occasions of execution and effort indicators of presence and potential? He’ll get stronger in his upper and lower body and I think there’s an element of oversaturation with Melo that makes us think he should be further along than he actually is because we’ve all been seeing him since he was a skinny kid shooting from half court three or four years ago.
Trying to figure how LaMelo transitions and translates to the NBA is an exercise with greater uncertainty than most for me. He’s third on my big board with probably the second highest upside (behind Edwards), but it feels more dependent on circumstance than other prospects. Within his realm of possible outcomes, I see the mediocre shooting and inconsistent defense of a late-20s Rondo. The elite passing and ineffective defense of Trae Young. It’s the presence of the attributes, not the players themselves where I see similarity. I project and assume LaMelo will gain strength and fill out as he ages. Now in his third season as a 22-year-old, his brother Lonzo Ball has begun to fill out physically, but he always had a sturdier frame and tighter core than his brother. Even if his defensive effort remains poor and inconsistent, being stronger at 6-5 will make him more difficult to run through. In terms of finishing, even slight strength gain and improved core and lower body strength would significantly improve what is already a diverse attack and allow for more efficient finishing and more fouls drawn.
The mental side of the game is harder to predict. Assuming Ball is coachable (I’ve never seen or read anything suggesting otherwise), then I’d like to imagine he can improve his shot selection or just reduce the amount of heat checking and deep threes. I don’t project him as ever having sustained above average three-point shooting because the mechanics, from top to bottom, are too inconsistent and too out-of-whack. That’s not to say he can’t evolve to respectability over time a la Jason Kidd or Rondo, but even these players never quite developed any reliable off-the-bounce three and had to settle for slower, catch-and-shoot options. Ball is a better overall scorer and shooter than those players were at a similar age and while that doesn’t guarantee he’ll shoot better over time, having at least the presence of a pull-up game increases his range of outcomes.
Sticking with the mental side and coachability, I mentioned above that he’s dependent on circumstance and what I mean by that is he needs the room to fail and grow (as all NBA teenagers do). His game is fraught with bad decisions, a likely by-product of his pre-NBL days of playing three-plus years in what essentially amounted to a circus-like all-star atmosphere designed to draw attention rather than develop as a basketball player. The muscle memory and need to put on a show is still there and it will drive some coaches or GMs crazy. But there’s a fine line between optimizing towards the strengths of a savant and asking Picasso to paint inside the numbers. With the bad habits he’s developed, the learning curve from flashy passer to contributor on a winning basketball team seems like it will be longer for Melo than others, but with a significant upside. In a perfect world, he lands somewhere like New Orleans, not just because his brother is there, but because with David Griffin at the helm, there’s a sobriety of expectation and understanding of development. The clock is ticking on the Pels, but it’s not a clock resting solely on LaMelo’s shoulders. Conversely, a destination like New York, with its top-down dysfunction, uneven player development, and NBA 2K-styled roster building feels like a place where bad habits can flourish and calcify.
Between New Orleans and New York are myriad outcomes that offer a million choose-your-own-adventure outcomes for Ball. While his passing and ability to make the game easier for teammates will, with extreme certainty, translate to the NBA, the remaining skills and abilities, from his cockeyed shot to his lazy defense, are wildcards in ways that exceed the question marks of his 2020 draft class compatriots. Were he even average in other areas of his game, he’d be my top-prospect overall, without peer. But he’s not and it’s unclear if he’s willing or able to become average. That I still keep him in my top-three and that ESPN has him number-one overall in their latest mock draft (to the Knicks of all places) is testament to creative genius, to positional size, to potential, possibility, and to the inspirational power of the imagination.
January 5, 2018Posted by on
I can’t say my first intentional experience with Oklahoma’s Trae Young was as uninterruptedly studious as I would have liked. My face was thawing after shoveling snow in the frigid Iowa afternoon. My nearly-10-month-old son was bouncing, cackling at unintelligible noises I made in attempts to distract him from the teething pain that’s turned our house upside down the past couple days. In the middle of the chaos was my Samsung TV, mounted to the wall above a gas fireplace that doesn’t work, presenting Trae Young to me in all his evolutionary glory.
Young is a 6’2” point guard from Norman, Oklahoma. He just turned 19 a few months ago and has a wispy moustache and hair that makes me think he could be Persian. Or maybe Native American or Indian or Filipino. I can almost picture him astride a horse, speeding across the Norman prairies and parking lots, thinnish hair whipping in the Norman wind, on his way to a game. He’s flirting with a unibrow and while he has a slight build, his shoulders are square and look prepared to carry more muscle and mass. Conventionally speaking, he doesn’t look the part though “the part,” as embodied by Michael Jordan, Shaquille O’Neal, Tim Duncan, or LeBron James, is being rewritten by two-time-MVP and two-time-NBA Champion, Stephen Curry who happens to be the stylistic predecessor to Young.
My timeline is far from definitive, but the first time I recall seeing the trickle down of Currynomics was when LaMelo Ball, late of Vyautas Prienal-Birstonas of the Lithuanian Basketball League, became a sensation as a 15-year-old sophomore for Chino Hills High School during the 2016-17 season. He scored 92 points in one game and audaciously made a half-court shot just seconds into another game. Aside from these attention-grabbing highlights, Ball frequently took and made shots from NBA three-point range and deeper. If you strip away the outspoken divisiveness of his father, Lavar, there’s a supremely talented and skinny young basketball player in LaMelo. My first thoughts when I saw his highlights were of young kids seeing the rise of Curry, with his 30-foot jumpers and “California Cool” (H/T George Karl) approach, and misinterpreting what they saw. Ball, who pointed to his spot before canning the half-courter I mentioned, became a poster boy target of sorts for the get off my lawn crowd most notably represented by Charles Barkley. Barkley, a league MVP as a 6’4” undersized power forward, once claimed Curry was “just a great shooter.”
However far off-base Barkley’s assessment of Curry was, it stands as a representation of a perspective held by many former players, and likely present players, that Curry doesn’t belong at the table with other NBA greats. For Curry, the suspicion isn’t limited to style as I wrote about during this year’s finals, but are inclusive of race via skin color and class with him coming from a well-off, fully intact NBA family. Barkley’s comments and sentiments are coded in the sense that boxing Curry into being “just a great shooter” discount his generational skill level, advanced ball handling, finishing at the rim, his passing, his selflessness and on. By labeling him, or anyone like him, as “just a great shooter,” any threat to Barkley (or those who share his view and comprehension) is neutralized because Curry and his ilk become the “other.”
LaMelo Ball isn’t alone in seeing something in Curry that could be applied to his own game. About a month ago, I attended a high school basketball game in Des Moines, Iowa. For someone who hasn’t attended a high school game in over a decade, the experience of merely walking into the building and being swallowed by giddy teenage energy is one of adjustment. I packed into the doors of North High School with the rest of the human cattle being corralled towards concessions and the gym. If you’ve been away for a while, it’s disorienting to see a mass of teens from a 37-year-old’s eyes and see your former self moving through those crowds in complete normalcy. North’s point guard and their main attraction is a smallish 5’10”, 170lbs junior named Tyreke Locure who looks to be taller than his listed height due to a dyed bushy faux hawk – similar to LaMelo’s. He’s a mid-to-low D1 prospect who posted 56 points on 33 shots just a couple weeks after I saw him. In the game I attended, Locure and his North teammates exhibited a trigger-happy penchant for chucking deep threes. In my most Chuck-ish, I found myself criticizing the game plan until those bombs started falling – which probably says something about my commitment to a strategy. Collectively, they were quick to pass up half-court opportunities in exchange for deep, often contested, threes. Locure’s game did not appear to be defined by hash mark threes. I saw him looking for the small spaces to let fly, but within that were probing drives, dump-offs, and floaters, but the Curry influence was evident.
With North, I find myself needing to justify their liberal bombs by pointing to their success. Under their current coach, Chad Ryan, and with Locure as starting point guard in 16-17, they made the state tournament for the first time since 1991. MaxPreps currently has them ranked 7th in the state. The approach is working. And where instinct pushes me to find justification, intellect tells me question instinct. This is probably where my conventional way of thinking, some inner-Barkley, is running into my embrace of revolution, my inner-Curry/Steve Kerr.
Locure and Ball represent different points on a spectrum of who and how Curry has influenced a culture of ballplayers. Ball is probably at the most polarizing end of the spectrum. A kid whose game built on the notoriety that comes with being something of a Curry-clone – though that’s unlikely how he views himself. Maybe some of that is unfairly worded by confusing the son for the father. Locure and his North teammates, by contrast, have had the game opened by a combination of their abilities, their coaching, and (I’m mildly confident in this assumption) by Steph Curry whose influence has become omnipresent – from the California coast and the Hills of Chino to the tornado alleys of Oklahoma to the cold December gyms of Des Moines and a billion Instagram clips in between.
In April of 2017, Bleacher Report’s Howard Beck wrote a piece making a compelling case as to why the quest for the Next Michael Jordan had been on the decline over the past few years. In the story, Beck refers to the present as “Generation Steph,” and writes of high school coach and former NBA player Penny Hardaway that, “he’s had to admonish his players more than once for launching from 30 feet, like a band of mini-Steph Currys.”
Curry would be difficult enough to guard if he was, as Barkley said, “just a great shooter.” He’d be Kyle Korver or J.J. Redick – which isn’t to discount their non-shooting skills. Instead, the range and his ability to attack off the dribble, to both find the open teammate or finish around the rim at an elite level, make him, at times, the most disruptive offensive player in the NBA. In Jack McCallum’s Golden Days, he writes about Curry being a revolutionary player in that he’s doing things with range and accuracy that we haven’t seen before. In his notes about the book on his site, McCallum quoted Curry and wrote:
“Nobody talked much about long shots until three years ago,” Curry says. “When my father [Dell, a sharp-shooter who retired in 2002 after 16 seasons] was playing, heck, there wasn’t even much talk about three-pointers at all.”
Well, you pretty much started that conversation, Curry is reminded. He shrugs. “It’s not something I consciously set out to do,” Curry says. “Most of the long ones come when the defense is back-pedaling and I’m in rhythm. I don’t really think about what the exact distance is. It’s basically where I feel comfortable from.”
That is the key word—comfort. When something is new, it feels uncomfortable. Despite the fact that the three-point shot has been in the NBA since 1979, it never became a real weapon until the last decade, and even that is stretching it. Why? Coaches were never comfortable with it. We can always work it closer to the basket, went the thinking. But once Curry demonstrated that he could make the looooong ones, Steve Kerr did grow comfortable with it, and “four-pointers”–those long-range bombs that demoralize opponents to the point that they seem to be worth an extra point–became a big part of the Warriors’ offense … not to mention a big part of the NBA’s entertainment package.
McCallum makes the argument that Kevin Durant or even LeBron James are doing things we’ve seen – scoring, passing, rebounding – but doing it with evolutionary physicality. KD is seven-feet tall handling the ball like a point guard. Bron is built like Karl Malone with the athleticism of MJ and the court vision of Magic. He writes, “I doubt that 30 years ago, even 15 years ago, we could’ve envisioned such a complete player at that (KD’s) size.”
I accept McCallum’s argument that Curry is a revolutionary player. He’s been able to push out the boundaries of what’s possible on an NBA court and do it in a way that’s about as effective as we can fathom. It doesn’t mean that players can’t expand their range further as we’ve seen with Ball shooting from half court, but that, at some point, there are diminishing returns or that the long distance becomes a means in and of itself, not, as Curry says, “something I consciously set out to do.”
It’s unfair to seek out the Next Curry in every long-distance shooting teenager just like was unfair to label every dunking shooting guard as the “Next MJ.” Instead of seeking out the Next Anyone, it’s more accurate to identify the traits of iconic players in the next generation and establish a stylistic family tree of sorts. In terms of a basketball lineage, Ball and Locure are inheriting some of the stylistic genes of Curry. As kids who aren’t yet of voting age, how their futures map out are wildly variable, but in each, the fingerprints of Curry are visible.
The future of Trae Young, at just 19-years-old, is much more clearly defined. In the midst of the madness swirling around me during the Oklahoma-TCU game, what I saw was a point guard bending an entire half of the court to his own will. Young scored 39 points and had 14 assists yet, for me, he didn’t even play a great game. While there wasn’t a single TCU defender who could keep Young out of the lane, on more than one occasion, he left his feet and without a passing outlet, was forced to hopelessly fling a shot at the rim. He shot 9-23 for the game, but six of those makes were from three. Inside the paint, he was 3-7. While he struggled with interior accuracy, all those forays into the paint helped push his free throw attempts up to 18. (For the season, he’s impressively averaging more than one free throw attempt for every two field attempts.) He was able to beat his defenders into the paint with a combination of speed, quickness, the threat of the deep ball (see his shot chart below), and a purposeful handle developed well-beyond his age. (Here he is functionally pulling off the Shammgod earlier this season.)
14 assists is nice and all, but Young easily could’ve had more. He frequently found open teammates both under the hoop and along the perimeter. They made plenty, but missed some gimmes too. That they were so open is testament to Young’s playmaking and vision, his teammates shot making (and occasional shot missing), and coach Lon Kruger’s pro style deployment of personnel around the perimeter. Young frequently had release valves in the corners that he didn’t have to look for; he knew they were there. He had full court assists, no-look wrap around passes, jump passes off slaloms to the rim. More often than not, he made the right decisions. And while the 3-7 in the paint and seven turnovers look ugly, the indefatigable pressure he put on the TCU defense was more than worth the trade off to a teammate or alternative pace of attack. The game was ultra-high pressure, decided by a single point, and yet Young played the entirety of the second half and only sat two minutes all game.
The passing and driving are great, even titillating, but his range and shot release time are where the Curry comparisons become inescapable. I have no idea exactly how accurate the shot chart below is in terms of distance, but it’s accurate in the sense that the distances match up with what I witnessed. There are tracking systems that can tell us how close defenders were, but from my distracted viewing, a couple of those bombs were with defenders in his space, but unexpectant. By the time the defender realized what was happening, Young was already too deep into his motion with a release they couldn’t catch up to. Like Curry, or any deep shooter, this ability opens up mega avenues for penetration.
I don’t know if people look for the “Next” because we’re lazy or have bad habits or because we see points of reference in players. Maybe it’s the never-ending quest for immortality through progeny. Penny was the Next Magic. Eddy Curry was the Next Shaq. Harold Miner was literally Baby Jordan. The excitement I felt watching Trae Young wasn’t in seeing the Next Steph Curry, but seeing the possible evolution of what Curry has brought to basketball. I caught just a glimpse, the kind of glimpse that people turn into Loch Ness Monsters and UFOs and Yetis. Maybe it was just a tease and Young is more Jimmer than Steph. Or maybe it’s the next evolutionary step in audacious offense. I wouldn’t say I’ve seen the future, but I’ve seen Steph Curry and I’ve seen Trae Young and I’m good with that.