Thursday, April 14, 2016
Playoff Predictions
The Warriors are going to win the championship. Because they're easily the best team ever. I give the Spurs 25% chance of beating them, which seems way too high, but Greg Popovich is my spirit animal, so I always give them too much credit.
The Philadelphia Experiment
Now that the 76ers 2015-16 season is over and their GM Sam Hinkie resigned with a 13-page letter, I thought it would be a good time to write a few words on why Hinkie's Process didn't work.
I don't think anyone would disagree with the fundamentals of Hinkie's plan for the 76ers. It's almost common knowledge that one of the worst things you can do as an NBA franchise is be middle-class. Sure, it's nice to say you made the playoffs eight of the last nine seasons, but when you're consistently getting the seventh or eighth seed, it destroys your basketball product. How so?
The lowest seed to win a championship in the NBA was the sixth seeded Houston Rockets in 1994-95, and they were defending their championship from the year before. So they knew how to win, and are the giant exception to the rule. Usually the winner of the Finals comes from the top three seeds in either conference.
When you're constantly making the playoffs as such a low seed, you're constantly picking in the late teens and early twenties in the draft. There's probably a chance you'll stumble into a quality player there, if you scout well, but there are rarely any franchise players picked that low in the draft. In fact, it's rare to find any superstar picked outside of the top five. You'd have to be insanely lucky to get a player that can change the direction of your team so late in the draft.
When you add in the fact that established NBA superstars rarely change teams (and even when they do it's to only a few markets), it's easy to see that fielding a mediocre team year after year eventually lands you in basketball purgatory. Yeah, you're good enough to make the playoffs, but you'll never be good enough to win.
So Hinkie's plan (and the 76ers ownership's, too, don't forget) was to bottom out and get high draft picks, hoping one of them would be that elusive superstar that every franchise wants. And bottom out they did. The Sixers record the last three years was 47-199. That's an average of 15.6 wins per season. That's bottoming out with gusto.
But it was the plan. The Sixers wanted to get high draft picks and collect assets so that they could either stumble onto a superstar or two through the draft, or trade for one with the high-value assets (draft picks and young players) they owned. Losing helped them do this. Not only did they collect those assets through their losing, they also participated in several trades that help them obtain picks or young players with team-friendly contracts.
Everyone agrees this is a sound strategy. So what went wrong?
First, the Sixers had bad luck. They didn't get Karl-Anthony Towns or D'Angelo Russell. They missed out on Andrew Wiggins and Jabari Parker. Sometimes the lottery balls just don't bounce your way and the great players are taken before it's your turn.
Second, Philadelphia missed on their own picks. They traded for rookie forward Nerlens Noel, whose ceiling is poor man's Tyson Chandler but more than likely is just going to be a decent rotation player. They drafted Michael Carter-Williams, who was rookie of the year, then promptly traded him to the Bucks for assets. The next year, they drafted center Joel Embiid and forward Dario Saric, neither of whom has played a minute in the NBA. Then, last year, the Sixers drafted forward Jahlil Okafor.
If you're keeping track, that's four front court players drafted in a league where the team with the best record every plays a 6'7" forward at center. I don't understand this part of the Process, because even in a traditional sense all four of those guys can't play together. Maybe Hinkie's plan involved a team with only one guard. I don't know. But so far, those picks have not worked out well for them.
Third, they failed to sign veteran players to help develop their young team. Hinkie's plan called for young players with team-friendly contracts. That meant veterans weren't needed. Veteran players are for teams trying to win. The Sixers wanted assets, not victories. This makes sense in theory. But realistically, those young players need older guys to teach them how to play, how to live the NBA lifestyle, and how to be professional. The Sixers haven't had those guys the last three years. In fact, they've done their best to make sure none of them were around, because the most important thing was assets until you get your superstars. This led to a losing culture and a team with bad habits. Coaches can do their job to the best of their ability, but they need veterans to pass on their message. Philadelphia didn't have strong, veteran voices to teach young players how to win and thrive in the NBA.
In the end, I don't think the problem in Philly was with Hinkie's plan. It was the execution of the plan. He wasn't trying to lose on purpose or game the system. He had a strategy that he developed based on the landscape of the NBA. It just didn't work. Part of it was his fault and part of it was just the luck that comes along with sports sometimes. I'm interested to see where he ends up, and where the Sixers go from here.
I don't think anyone would disagree with the fundamentals of Hinkie's plan for the 76ers. It's almost common knowledge that one of the worst things you can do as an NBA franchise is be middle-class. Sure, it's nice to say you made the playoffs eight of the last nine seasons, but when you're consistently getting the seventh or eighth seed, it destroys your basketball product. How so?
The lowest seed to win a championship in the NBA was the sixth seeded Houston Rockets in 1994-95, and they were defending their championship from the year before. So they knew how to win, and are the giant exception to the rule. Usually the winner of the Finals comes from the top three seeds in either conference.
When you're constantly making the playoffs as such a low seed, you're constantly picking in the late teens and early twenties in the draft. There's probably a chance you'll stumble into a quality player there, if you scout well, but there are rarely any franchise players picked that low in the draft. In fact, it's rare to find any superstar picked outside of the top five. You'd have to be insanely lucky to get a player that can change the direction of your team so late in the draft.
When you add in the fact that established NBA superstars rarely change teams (and even when they do it's to only a few markets), it's easy to see that fielding a mediocre team year after year eventually lands you in basketball purgatory. Yeah, you're good enough to make the playoffs, but you'll never be good enough to win.
So Hinkie's plan (and the 76ers ownership's, too, don't forget) was to bottom out and get high draft picks, hoping one of them would be that elusive superstar that every franchise wants. And bottom out they did. The Sixers record the last three years was 47-199. That's an average of 15.6 wins per season. That's bottoming out with gusto.
But it was the plan. The Sixers wanted to get high draft picks and collect assets so that they could either stumble onto a superstar or two through the draft, or trade for one with the high-value assets (draft picks and young players) they owned. Losing helped them do this. Not only did they collect those assets through their losing, they also participated in several trades that help them obtain picks or young players with team-friendly contracts.
Everyone agrees this is a sound strategy. So what went wrong?
First, the Sixers had bad luck. They didn't get Karl-Anthony Towns or D'Angelo Russell. They missed out on Andrew Wiggins and Jabari Parker. Sometimes the lottery balls just don't bounce your way and the great players are taken before it's your turn.
Second, Philadelphia missed on their own picks. They traded for rookie forward Nerlens Noel, whose ceiling is poor man's Tyson Chandler but more than likely is just going to be a decent rotation player. They drafted Michael Carter-Williams, who was rookie of the year, then promptly traded him to the Bucks for assets. The next year, they drafted center Joel Embiid and forward Dario Saric, neither of whom has played a minute in the NBA. Then, last year, the Sixers drafted forward Jahlil Okafor.
If you're keeping track, that's four front court players drafted in a league where the team with the best record every plays a 6'7" forward at center. I don't understand this part of the Process, because even in a traditional sense all four of those guys can't play together. Maybe Hinkie's plan involved a team with only one guard. I don't know. But so far, those picks have not worked out well for them.
Third, they failed to sign veteran players to help develop their young team. Hinkie's plan called for young players with team-friendly contracts. That meant veterans weren't needed. Veteran players are for teams trying to win. The Sixers wanted assets, not victories. This makes sense in theory. But realistically, those young players need older guys to teach them how to play, how to live the NBA lifestyle, and how to be professional. The Sixers haven't had those guys the last three years. In fact, they've done their best to make sure none of them were around, because the most important thing was assets until you get your superstars. This led to a losing culture and a team with bad habits. Coaches can do their job to the best of their ability, but they need veterans to pass on their message. Philadelphia didn't have strong, veteran voices to teach young players how to win and thrive in the NBA.
In the end, I don't think the problem in Philly was with Hinkie's plan. It was the execution of the plan. He wasn't trying to lose on purpose or game the system. He had a strategy that he developed based on the landscape of the NBA. It just didn't work. Part of it was his fault and part of it was just the luck that comes along with sports sometimes. I'm interested to see where he ends up, and where the Sixers go from here.
Monday, April 11, 2016
On Jason Kidd
I don't remember much basketball from the nineties, so my first memory of Jason Kidd is when he was leading the New Jersey Nets to back to back Finals appearances in the early part of this century. And mostly what I picture in my mind is him feeding Vince Carter alley oops and kickouts to Kerry Kittles and Keith Van Horn for wide open threes. I missed his first stint with the Mavericks and his time with the Suns.
I looked up his highlights on Youtube, though, and once I got past the bleached hair, I found a more athletic Jason Kidd than I remembered. But that isn't what caught my attention.
The main thing that stands out from when you watch Kidd in his early years and then in his prime in New Jersey is his relentless penetration of the paint. Whether by driving or pinpoint passes, Kidd got into the teeth of the defense, constantly pushing the ball closer and closer to the rim. Everyone remembers the no-look passes, but I think him racing the ball up the court and somehow making sure the ball got to the hoop was more impressive.
This was the time when everyone called him Ason Kidd, because he had no J. And they were right. Kidd couldn't shoot. But that makes what he did even more impressive. Despite the fact that opponents were sagging back, daring him to shoot, he was still use his athleticism and size to get to the hole. Kidd was a wizard when it came to attacking the paint, and that should be his defining legacy of the nineties.
We also shouldn't forget, however, that he shot about six hundred three pointers his first two seasons, despite hovering around only thirty percent from downtown. He shouldn't have been shooting that much. But hey, his hair was the color of mustard and there was no internet at the time, so we'll leave it alone.
Then came his time in New Jersey. This was peak Jason Kidd. He ran the break perfectly, He made guys like Richard Jefferson, Kerry Kittles, and Keith Van Horn look really good. Those guys made a lot of money because of Kidd.
His shooting improved, but barely. Mostly he got his point by doing what he did in Dallas and Phoenix--getting the ball into the paint by any means necessary. He got the Nets to the Finals two years in a row, and did it with a roster that is underwhelming when you look back at it. Don't get me wrong, those guys I mentioned above were good. But Kidd made them special, and they never got back to that level again once they weren't on his team.
What followed were some fun years with Vince Carter once he arrived from Toronto. But the Nets were never a serious contender, and after a few years, Kidd wanted out to chase a ring.
When the Dallas Mavericks acquired Kidd, I thought the trade was a wash. Dallas gave up some young assets, most notably Devin Harris, But Kidd could get the ball to Dirk Nowitzki in good positions and run a team efficiently. I didn't think Kidd would put the Mavericks over the top by himself, but he was a good piece to have.
Rick Carlisle and Kidd clashed at first. Carlisle is controlling on offense and hard on point guards. But eventually he learned to trust Kidd to run the offense, which was a smart move. Nowitzki is especially dangerous in transition, most notably on trailing three's.
Two things developed in Kidd's game in Dallas that made him a key piece to the Mav's championship run in 2011. First, he began shooting spot-up three's with accuracy. He could camp out at the wing or top of the arc and wait for a kick out off a drive or a double-team on Nowitzki. Teams couldn't ignore him and it caused defenses to stretch.
Second, Kidd began to leverage his strength to defend larger players, allowing the Mavs to switch more often. One of the images that stands out in my mind during the Finals that year was Kidd defending LeBron James and doing it well.
It was really fun to watch the transformation of Kidd from a run-and-gun point guard who made his living on the break to a deadly catch-and-shoot point guard who could defend any position one through four.
It didn't surprise me that Kidd went into coaching, not even when he was made a head coach in his first year of retirement. That chapter of his career has yet to be written, but if he approaches it with the versatility of his playing days, he'll do just fine.
I looked up his highlights on Youtube, though, and once I got past the bleached hair, I found a more athletic Jason Kidd than I remembered. But that isn't what caught my attention.
The main thing that stands out from when you watch Kidd in his early years and then in his prime in New Jersey is his relentless penetration of the paint. Whether by driving or pinpoint passes, Kidd got into the teeth of the defense, constantly pushing the ball closer and closer to the rim. Everyone remembers the no-look passes, but I think him racing the ball up the court and somehow making sure the ball got to the hoop was more impressive.
This was the time when everyone called him Ason Kidd, because he had no J. And they were right. Kidd couldn't shoot. But that makes what he did even more impressive. Despite the fact that opponents were sagging back, daring him to shoot, he was still use his athleticism and size to get to the hole. Kidd was a wizard when it came to attacking the paint, and that should be his defining legacy of the nineties.
We also shouldn't forget, however, that he shot about six hundred three pointers his first two seasons, despite hovering around only thirty percent from downtown. He shouldn't have been shooting that much. But hey, his hair was the color of mustard and there was no internet at the time, so we'll leave it alone.
Then came his time in New Jersey. This was peak Jason Kidd. He ran the break perfectly, He made guys like Richard Jefferson, Kerry Kittles, and Keith Van Horn look really good. Those guys made a lot of money because of Kidd.
His shooting improved, but barely. Mostly he got his point by doing what he did in Dallas and Phoenix--getting the ball into the paint by any means necessary. He got the Nets to the Finals two years in a row, and did it with a roster that is underwhelming when you look back at it. Don't get me wrong, those guys I mentioned above were good. But Kidd made them special, and they never got back to that level again once they weren't on his team.
What followed were some fun years with Vince Carter once he arrived from Toronto. But the Nets were never a serious contender, and after a few years, Kidd wanted out to chase a ring.
When the Dallas Mavericks acquired Kidd, I thought the trade was a wash. Dallas gave up some young assets, most notably Devin Harris, But Kidd could get the ball to Dirk Nowitzki in good positions and run a team efficiently. I didn't think Kidd would put the Mavericks over the top by himself, but he was a good piece to have.
Rick Carlisle and Kidd clashed at first. Carlisle is controlling on offense and hard on point guards. But eventually he learned to trust Kidd to run the offense, which was a smart move. Nowitzki is especially dangerous in transition, most notably on trailing three's.
Two things developed in Kidd's game in Dallas that made him a key piece to the Mav's championship run in 2011. First, he began shooting spot-up three's with accuracy. He could camp out at the wing or top of the arc and wait for a kick out off a drive or a double-team on Nowitzki. Teams couldn't ignore him and it caused defenses to stretch.
Second, Kidd began to leverage his strength to defend larger players, allowing the Mavs to switch more often. One of the images that stands out in my mind during the Finals that year was Kidd defending LeBron James and doing it well.
It was really fun to watch the transformation of Kidd from a run-and-gun point guard who made his living on the break to a deadly catch-and-shoot point guard who could defend any position one through four.
It didn't surprise me that Kidd went into coaching, not even when he was made a head coach in his first year of retirement. That chapter of his career has yet to be written, but if he approaches it with the versatility of his playing days, he'll do just fine.
Wednesday, February 17, 2016
All-Star Game
That wasn't the greatest All-Star weekend in NBA history, but it was one of the best in recent years. The celebrity game was a little weak, but the Rising Stars game was good. Karl-Anthony Towns winning the Skills Challenge was a little unexpected. The Steph Curry-Klay Thompson duel was fun to watch, and I'm not surprised that Thompson won. He had a serious look in his eye the whole time. He's been thinking about it for a while. I'm surprised JJ Reddick didn't do better.
Then there was the dunk contest. It wasn't better than MJ vs Dominique, or Vince Carter in 2000, but that was a show. Zach Lavine and Aaron Gordon made up for their lack of star power with heavy doses of creativity and athleticism. I think Lavine had an advantage because of winning the dunk contest last year.
The actual All-Star game was a little dry, but still entertaining. There were some fun plays, and Kobe Bryant played well for his last time. I enjoyed watching Russell Westbrook, because he goes so hard no matter the situation. It would have been fun to see the West get to 200, or for the game to be a little bit closer, but hey, you can't have everything.
The only complaint I have was the absence of Vince Carter. Whether it was his choice or lack of effort on the NBA's part, we didn't get enough of Vince. That was a mistake on someone's part. And Sting was a poor halftime show choice.
That's all guys.
Then there was the dunk contest. It wasn't better than MJ vs Dominique, or Vince Carter in 2000, but that was a show. Zach Lavine and Aaron Gordon made up for their lack of star power with heavy doses of creativity and athleticism. I think Lavine had an advantage because of winning the dunk contest last year.
The actual All-Star game was a little dry, but still entertaining. There were some fun plays, and Kobe Bryant played well for his last time. I enjoyed watching Russell Westbrook, because he goes so hard no matter the situation. It would have been fun to see the West get to 200, or for the game to be a little bit closer, but hey, you can't have everything.
The only complaint I have was the absence of Vince Carter. Whether it was his choice or lack of effort on the NBA's part, we didn't get enough of Vince. That was a mistake on someone's part. And Sting was a poor halftime show choice.
That's all guys.
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