Ten NBA things I like and don’t like, including Jayson Tatum’s star leap

Let’s move into the weekend with 10 NBA things:

1. Jayson Tatum is here

When was the last time this happened — a player in the middle of the season making The Leap, everyone digesting the revelation together and knowing it is real and lasting? Perhaps Kawhi Leonard toward the start of 2016-17?

Tatum always had the pieces. Those pieces rarely coalesced on the same nights — until the past five plus-weeks, starting almost to the day Tatum made the All-Star team. My pet theory is that Tatum was pressing about All-Star, and making it helped him settle into a groove.

The level of craft in his game has exploded. The individual moves were there; this nasty, left-handed, in-and-out dribble is from the first week of the season:

He has learned to string those moves together in ways that get him into the paint with more space to operate.

He starts by faking away from Daniel Theis‘ pick, wrong-footing both CJ McCollum and Hassan Whiteside. Tatum pauses to cement his advantage, kinda fakes that same in-and-out dribble as Theis rumbles into position, and finally explodes with a weaving crossover. Utter filth.

There is a staccato to Tatum’s dribble game that keeps defenders off-balance — at his mercy. (I argued last season Tatum needed more pick-and-roll reps, but Boston’s ecosystem couldn’t handle that sort of role shift. He’s running twice as many this season, per Second Spectrum data.)

Tatum has used those pre-screen fakes to open space for the other shot that has rocketed him into All-NBA territory: the pull-up 3. Tatum has hit 41% on 4.4 pull-up triples per game — 12th most in the league, and a gargantuan increase from 1.4 attempts last season. He remains a huge plus on defense. (Jaylen Brown deserves credit for often guarding power forwards, sparing the other Celtics some banging.)

This Tatum can be a top-five player in the NBA someday — maybe soon. That provides Boston a path to title contention, perhaps now and definitely later. It gives this season’s team something every contender requires: a clear hierarchy. There can be no arguments about who should have the ball late.

Tatum seized that responsibility in a way that felt organic. It’s as if the rest of the Celtics were waiting for him to take it, maybe without even realizing. Everyone agreed, in the moment, that this is how it should be.

That is basketball magic. It rarely happens so naturally.

Tatum’s next step is to advance as a passer. He has shown hints; he’s making the first read a beat earlier:

Eventually, he will manipulate defenses, and make the pass one or two steps further down the chain than they expect. He doesn’t project as a mega-assist ballhandling fulcrum, but there is no reason he can’t average five or six dimes per game at his apex. Other scoring wings with that sort of profile have proved capable of being the best players on title teams.

2. Zach LaVine‘s missing playmaking

LaVine is a trooper. He plays huge minutes every game. He says and does the right things when his coach criticizes him in the media. Chicago averages 99 points per 100 possessions when he sits — so much worse than the league’s clankiest offense that it’s embarrassing.

But it’s fair to ask what level of creative burden LaVine can handle given his status as Chicago’s best and maybe only reliable perimeter starter going forward. (It’s hard to assume anything about Otto Porter Jr.‘s future in Chicago, or anywhere, at this point.)

LaVine’s playmaking has stagnated. He knows the reads — where every teammate should be, how defenses rotate. But he can be late deciding what to do, and noticing when the defense is onto him.

LaVine is halfway to a really smart play there. He understands that Isaac Bonga, guarding the red-hot Coby White in the left corner, is responsible for crashing down on Cristiano Felicio‘s roll. LaVine stares at White, and tricks Bonga into rotating there — unlocking an easy pass to Felicio.

Rui Hachimura anticipates LaVine’s plan and jumps the passing lane. LaVine has to see that coming.

Caveat: LaVine has zero starter-quality players on the floor with him there. (Apologies to Thaddeus Young, who lost a half-step in transit from Indiana.) Chicago’s entire starting frontcourt is hurt. LaVine will do better with more talent and shooting around him.

Even so, there have been too many turnovers like this:

LaVine either misses Hachimura, or knowingly tries an impossible pass.

LaVine is averaging 4.2 assists and 3.5 turnovers per game — not good enough for a co-lead ball handler unless that guy is an uber-efficient scorer and/or special on defense.

LaVine can contribute to a good team. He is a star-level shot-maker. But evidence suggests he is overtaxed in his current role.

3. The vanishing of Kelly Olynyk

Olynyk was on the fringes of Miami’s rotation until Meyers Leonard suffered an ankle injury. He is basically a stretch center without the physicality to defend that position, though he has worked hard on staying vertical around the rim.

He has never been a good rebounder.

Coaches have zero tolerance for weak boxouts from bigs.

Bam Adebayo can defend centers, but that leaves Olynyk chasing stretchy power forwards, and he’s not really equipped to do that.

Still: There is a good player in here. Olynyk is shooting 41% from deep. He has a nifty pump-and-go game, and decent passing vision. He just hasn’t played with enough force on offense. He hesitates when he’s open, and looks unsteady off the bounce — gun-shy on passes, prone to picking up his dribble in traffic when he still has room to prod.

Hopefully, Olynyk reestablishes his confidence as a temporary starter; he has hit double figures in three of Miami’s past seven games. The Heat need him now, and Olynyk needs to show prospective suitors he has room to grow.

4. The Jazz, short on oomph and time

Identity in the NBA is ethereal and fragile — a “you know it when you see it” collective knowledge that can slip from you with the slightest disruption. The Jazz don’t have it right now. On offense, they are caught between their established motion system and a simpler version they settled on after acquiring more high-end scoring talent.

I’m skeptical that shifting Joe Ingles to the bench — as Utah did in Thursday’s loss to Boston — is the answer. Ingles has Utah’s core principles embedded in his DNA, and has struggled in a reserve role. Thursday’s no-Joe starting five has been very good in 299 minutes, but the version with Ingles and without Mike Conley has been even better in almost double the minutes. I’d try that first.

Meanwhile, Utah’s vaunted defense ranks 12th in points allowed per possession. It still yields the perfect shot profile — more midrangers than anyone. In prior seasons, opponents shot even worse than expected on that profile. That isn’t the case now.

Utah’s summer moves exchanged defense and size for offense. That was understandable. The old Jazz had hit their ceiling. But the downsides of that trade-off manifest in those opponent shooting numbers — and in Utah’s total inability to force turnovers.

The Jazz lack a certain oomph — a hard-to-define combination of size, wingspan, speed, hops. No one is scared when Utah’s defenders close out on them. Quick-twitch ball handlers get their inside shoulders past a lot of Utah’s mainstays.

That absence of oomph contributes to their biggest weakness: a weirdly porous transition defense. The Jazz turn the ball over on 15.1% of their possessions, sixth highest in the league, and they don’t have the roaring athleticism to compensate. They aren’t much better defending after live-ball rebounds.

The Sixers make for an interesting contrast. For most of the Joel EmbiidBen Simmons era, Philly has crashed the offensive glass without compromising its transition defense. That is where having huge, fast players shows up. They cover ground faster, spook shooters, jump higher at the rim. You hear them, and feel them, in a way you don’t with Utah.

Utah has to nail the little things — positioning and effort. Rudy Gobert hasn’t been the same impenetrable wall, perhaps out of some frustration over his role on offense. Reinserting Royce O’Neale into the starting five should boost their oomph factor.

The best version of Utah is a good, threatening team. They are running out of time to find it.

5. The overload lob

This is one of my favorite NBA passes:

That situation emerges a lot: A mismatch forces the defense to overload one side, with the first rotation coming off the big guy under the rim — Rondae Hollis-Jefferson above.

The obvious pass — and a very hard one — is to OG Anunoby in the weakside corner. That pass usually stays airborne long enough for the defense to lock back into position. The best case for the defense is Fred VanVleet pinging to a middleman along the arc.

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