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This is the third and final part of a three part series that previews the upcoming UConn basketball season. If you missed part one, click here: http://the-boneyard.com/threads/201...daniel-hamilton-king-of-the-chessboard.79199/. If you missed part two, click here: http://the-boneyard.com/threads/201...f-the-nations-most-imposing-frontcourt.81698/
“Fit” is possibly the most overlooked component of team building, in basketball more so than any other sport. The way coaches – and that encompasses coaches in the suits as well as the floor generals who bark out signals during critical possessions – divide those precious acres of terrain among their personnel is often revealing of the roles each player is supposed to perform within the larger apparatus of motion that occupies even the most isolative offensive sets.
And so, as it relates to last year’s UConn offense, one word that encapsulates their shortcomings better than any other is redundancy. The Huskies featured no shortage of slashers who could receive a kick-out from one of their teammates, shot fake, and then blow by an over-zealous defender on the close-out. Unfortunately, college defenses are sophisticated to the extent that most any offense that doesn’t feature multiple reliable standstill shooters is doomed to mediocrity, and last season, only Ryan Boatright qualified as such.
The question, then, becomes how the Huskies will fair without their leader and three point stallion, who drilled 41% of his threes a year ago on a healthy six attempts per game.
Offensively speaking, Sterling Gibbs – the graduate transfer from Seton Hall – figures to replicate Boatright’s production, both statistically and holistically, from the word go. But while the former can be confirmed by a quick look at his basketball-reference page, what part three of this preview hopes to accentuate is the manner by which those varying skillsets have been assembled by the Husky coaching staff, and how the respective strengths of each player enable their teammates to play to their strengths in a similar capacity.
The first liberty any competent offensive attack must punish defenses for taking was covered extensively in part one of this series, and in Daniel Hamilton, the Huskies possess the sort of chess piece that allows them to realize the essence of their sets. Certainly, all the rehearsed motion that is perfected to an art form in the facilities that the common fan is restricted access to is a means to an end, and though the Huskies figure to boast multiple players who can create a shot for themselves and others, Hamilton signals the most natural materialization of all these blackboard scribbles.
But as we sit here on the brink of the 2015-16 season, I’d like to propose the retirement of the phrase “two-man game.” Screen and rolls or pick and pops may only feature the physical presence of two players within fixated windows of time and space, but in totality, these two man games are far more representative of five-man jigsaw puzzles where the interrelated parts must act in unison to maximize the intrinsic value of each individual constituent.
If that sounds long-winded, I apologize. I do not write the way I do to fool people into thinking I am smart (ok, fine, you got me) but rather, because I don’t know how to parse the interchanging scale of personnel without first contextualizing the specific roles they will be asked to play that will, at least in theory, enhance the efficiency of the entire operation.
For the first time in Ollie’s brief tenure as head coach, it is his team beyond reproach. Not only are these all his recruits (unless you count Omar and Phil as Calhoun’s guys, which is tough to do given he never coached them), but the beginning of the 2015-16 season also signals the final chapter of a four year project that has culminated in the assimilation of all of Ollie’s players into their radicalized new climates on both sides of the ball. Now, make no mistake, Calhoun’s pick-and-roll offenses rated ahead of the curve, and it’s very likely that the two years Ollie served under Calhoun as an assistant forged the foundation of the offensive and defensive systems that are now being implemented in Storrs in a full-time basis.
Ollie, though – and the staff that flanks him, which includes Glen Miller, Karl Hobbs, Ricky Moore, and Kevin Freeman – has accelerated this process to turbo speed to the extent that his team plays chess to the opposition’s checkers much of the time.
Last season - even amidst frustrating spells of inefficiency - marked the necessary infant stages of an elaborate pick-and-roll offense predicated not just on impeccable spacing, swift ball movement, and incessant screening, but also on the premise that each individual player possessed a unique skillset that caused no overlap among teammates.
The alignment of a standard pick-and-roll is important to consider, and, until the spatial contents of the floor are comprehended in their entirety, it is impossible to understand how specific, discrete skills that are unique to a particular player can be either emboldened or defused depending on the competency level of their teammates in performing equally vital, yet often unrelated tasks.
The logistics of a high pick-and-roll are very much contingent on the extent to which the offensive personnel occupies the help side defense. As such, one specific skill – and one that is frequently representative of nothing but pure, God-given talent – that has come to be emphasized and cherished as the newest market inefficiency at all levels of basketball happens to be one that Amida Brimah personifies better than any player in the Nation: the rim-run.
https://youtu.be/6SbT7kTJdiI?t=203
The above clip is as demonstrative as any other in regards to how Brimah is able to aid a two man game – in this case, a pick-and-pop between Boatright and Daniels – simply by virtue of possessing a catch radius that dwarfs that of a normal human being.
Daniels’ – whose screen here, if you could call it that, serves as a decoy more than anything else – is not so much self-creating on this play as much as he is a recipient of brilliant scheming and flawless execution. There is so much going on here that attempting to condense it to an abbreviated symbol of basketball eloquence likely deprives it of the unremitting, season-long nurturing of footwork and synchronization it demanded, but nonetheless, the freeze frame is emblematic both of Boatright’s creativity as a passer and Brimah’s immense value as a rim-runner.
Like a whirl-pool, Brimah’s dive to the rim sucks the triangular vortex of bodies away from Daniels and towards Boatright, the ball-handler. This brief transaction of energy would prove to be all the room Daniels would need, as he attacks the slow-footed Dustin Hogue and explodes to the rim before Melvin Ejim, who should have been more aggressive in helping on Daniels’ drive, can arrive to put out the fire.
None of this action yields an immediate rift in structure so much as it decreases the defenses margin for error. In an era where virtually every coach is attempting to implement layer-based overload systems, teams that can surround rim-running menaces like Brimah with capable perimeter shooters and creative passers pose the biggest threat to disarming these shameless paint-packers of their volatility.
And that is precisely why recruiting is such an art form. Diversity is every bit as important as specialism, which is why Tyson Chandler – an immensely productive offensive player irrespective of his limitations – cannot sustain competency offensively if flanked by DeAndre Jordan, Serge Ibaka, Kyle Korver, and Andre Drummond. Despite each of the five players boasting skillsets that qualify them as uniquely valuable offensive chess pieces, the overlap in ability is extreme to the extent that they could not function collectively.
This, again, seems (or is) obvious. Yeah, hey, no kidding, you shouldn’t play three centers at the same time. But analyzing basketball at a graduate level entails extrapolating these pearls of conventional basketball wisdom into logical, concrete guideposts that merit application in various forms that spawn all levels of play.
The existence of abstract language in this piece is only to parse the similarly abstruse spatial alignments of the floor in any given set, particularly ones that tend to naturally select shooters, like Kevin Ollie’s NBA offense (this is why Terrence Samuel is now at Penn State). Pick-and-roll offenses demand shooters if for no other reason than that they allocate precious acres of real estate to those who must administer the primal interactions between defender and ball-handler.
One of the primary functions of a high ball screen is to force a defender into a difficult close-out on the reversal. In this sense, the high ball screen is frequently a means to an end, and as such, Kevin Ollie – and really, any coach who teaches this offense for long enough - typically implores his players to view the ball screen as a precursor to an even more nuanced variation of drive-and-kick basketball, a system analogous to casting a worm in rapid succession until you get a bite. The San Antonio Spurs are better at this than any basketball team on the planet. At some point, enough torque can unravel any defense.
And it is that statement of truth, and the ability of each player to master the corresponding skill that their distinct duty demands, that has signaled the onset of Rodney Purvis’ breakout season.
There are three types of players: those who are great independent of variables of which they cannot control, those who are liabilities regardless of the roles they are asked to play, and those who can either excel or flounder based on things like roster composition, coach disposition, and role tenor. Purvis, despite exhibiting flaws a year ago that nothing beyond a re-calibration of basketball instincts can eradicate, falls squarely into the third camp, a camp that consists of players whose fate can be made or broken by the precarious line that separates diversity and redundancy.
In being paired with Sterling Gibbs, Purvis now represents half of a backcourt made in basketball heaven. Gibbs – who ranked first in the Big East last year in Effective Field Goal Percentage – demands attention on ball screens that few, if any other players in the country warrant due to the volume with which he hoists threes as much as the precision with which he hits them.
This is the third and final part of a three part series that previews the upcoming UConn basketball season. If you missed part one, click here: http://the-boneyard.com/threads/201...daniel-hamilton-king-of-the-chessboard.79199/. If you missed part two, click here: http://the-boneyard.com/threads/201...f-the-nations-most-imposing-frontcourt.81698/
“Fit” is possibly the most overlooked component of team building, in basketball more so than any other sport. The way coaches – and that encompasses coaches in the suits as well as the floor generals who bark out signals during critical possessions – divide those precious acres of terrain among their personnel is often revealing of the roles each player is supposed to perform within the larger apparatus of motion that occupies even the most isolative offensive sets.
And so, as it relates to last year’s UConn offense, one word that encapsulates their shortcomings better than any other is redundancy. The Huskies featured no shortage of slashers who could receive a kick-out from one of their teammates, shot fake, and then blow by an over-zealous defender on the close-out. Unfortunately, college defenses are sophisticated to the extent that most any offense that doesn’t feature multiple reliable standstill shooters is doomed to mediocrity, and last season, only Ryan Boatright qualified as such.
The question, then, becomes how the Huskies will fair without their leader and three point stallion, who drilled 41% of his threes a year ago on a healthy six attempts per game.
Offensively speaking, Sterling Gibbs – the graduate transfer from Seton Hall – figures to replicate Boatright’s production, both statistically and holistically, from the word go. But while the former can be confirmed by a quick look at his basketball-reference page, what part three of this preview hopes to accentuate is the manner by which those varying skillsets have been assembled by the Husky coaching staff, and how the respective strengths of each player enable their teammates to play to their strengths in a similar capacity.
The first liberty any competent offensive attack must punish defenses for taking was covered extensively in part one of this series, and in Daniel Hamilton, the Huskies possess the sort of chess piece that allows them to realize the essence of their sets. Certainly, all the rehearsed motion that is perfected to an art form in the facilities that the common fan is restricted access to is a means to an end, and though the Huskies figure to boast multiple players who can create a shot for themselves and others, Hamilton signals the most natural materialization of all these blackboard scribbles.
But as we sit here on the brink of the 2015-16 season, I’d like to propose the retirement of the phrase “two-man game.” Screen and rolls or pick and pops may only feature the physical presence of two players within fixated windows of time and space, but in totality, these two man games are far more representative of five-man jigsaw puzzles where the interrelated parts must act in unison to maximize the intrinsic value of each individual constituent.
If that sounds long-winded, I apologize. I do not write the way I do to fool people into thinking I am smart (ok, fine, you got me) but rather, because I don’t know how to parse the interchanging scale of personnel without first contextualizing the specific roles they will be asked to play that will, at least in theory, enhance the efficiency of the entire operation.
For the first time in Ollie’s brief tenure as head coach, it is his team beyond reproach. Not only are these all his recruits (unless you count Omar and Phil as Calhoun’s guys, which is tough to do given he never coached them), but the beginning of the 2015-16 season also signals the final chapter of a four year project that has culminated in the assimilation of all of Ollie’s players into their radicalized new climates on both sides of the ball. Now, make no mistake, Calhoun’s pick-and-roll offenses rated ahead of the curve, and it’s very likely that the two years Ollie served under Calhoun as an assistant forged the foundation of the offensive and defensive systems that are now being implemented in Storrs in a full-time basis.
Ollie, though – and the staff that flanks him, which includes Glen Miller, Karl Hobbs, Ricky Moore, and Kevin Freeman – has accelerated this process to turbo speed to the extent that his team plays chess to the opposition’s checkers much of the time.
Last season - even amidst frustrating spells of inefficiency - marked the necessary infant stages of an elaborate pick-and-roll offense predicated not just on impeccable spacing, swift ball movement, and incessant screening, but also on the premise that each individual player possessed a unique skillset that caused no overlap among teammates.
The alignment of a standard pick-and-roll is important to consider, and, until the spatial contents of the floor are comprehended in their entirety, it is impossible to understand how specific, discrete skills that are unique to a particular player can be either emboldened or defused depending on the competency level of their teammates in performing equally vital, yet often unrelated tasks.
The logistics of a high pick-and-roll are very much contingent on the extent to which the offensive personnel occupies the help side defense. As such, one specific skill – and one that is frequently representative of nothing but pure, God-given talent – that has come to be emphasized and cherished as the newest market inefficiency at all levels of basketball happens to be one that Amida Brimah personifies better than any player in the Nation: the rim-run.
https://youtu.be/6SbT7kTJdiI?t=203
The above clip is as demonstrative as any other in regards to how Brimah is able to aid a two man game – in this case, a pick-and-pop between Boatright and Daniels – simply by virtue of possessing a catch radius that dwarfs that of a normal human being.
Daniels’ – whose screen here, if you could call it that, serves as a decoy more than anything else – is not so much self-creating on this play as much as he is a recipient of brilliant scheming and flawless execution. There is so much going on here that attempting to condense it to an abbreviated symbol of basketball eloquence likely deprives it of the unremitting, season-long nurturing of footwork and synchronization it demanded, but nonetheless, the freeze frame is emblematic both of Boatright’s creativity as a passer and Brimah’s immense value as a rim-runner.
Like a whirl-pool, Brimah’s dive to the rim sucks the triangular vortex of bodies away from Daniels and towards Boatright, the ball-handler. This brief transaction of energy would prove to be all the room Daniels would need, as he attacks the slow-footed Dustin Hogue and explodes to the rim before Melvin Ejim, who should have been more aggressive in helping on Daniels’ drive, can arrive to put out the fire.
None of this action yields an immediate rift in structure so much as it decreases the defenses margin for error. In an era where virtually every coach is attempting to implement layer-based overload systems, teams that can surround rim-running menaces like Brimah with capable perimeter shooters and creative passers pose the biggest threat to disarming these shameless paint-packers of their volatility.
And that is precisely why recruiting is such an art form. Diversity is every bit as important as specialism, which is why Tyson Chandler – an immensely productive offensive player irrespective of his limitations – cannot sustain competency offensively if flanked by DeAndre Jordan, Serge Ibaka, Kyle Korver, and Andre Drummond. Despite each of the five players boasting skillsets that qualify them as uniquely valuable offensive chess pieces, the overlap in ability is extreme to the extent that they could not function collectively.
This, again, seems (or is) obvious. Yeah, hey, no kidding, you shouldn’t play three centers at the same time. But analyzing basketball at a graduate level entails extrapolating these pearls of conventional basketball wisdom into logical, concrete guideposts that merit application in various forms that spawn all levels of play.
The existence of abstract language in this piece is only to parse the similarly abstruse spatial alignments of the floor in any given set, particularly ones that tend to naturally select shooters, like Kevin Ollie’s NBA offense (this is why Terrence Samuel is now at Penn State). Pick-and-roll offenses demand shooters if for no other reason than that they allocate precious acres of real estate to those who must administer the primal interactions between defender and ball-handler.
One of the primary functions of a high ball screen is to force a defender into a difficult close-out on the reversal. In this sense, the high ball screen is frequently a means to an end, and as such, Kevin Ollie – and really, any coach who teaches this offense for long enough - typically implores his players to view the ball screen as a precursor to an even more nuanced variation of drive-and-kick basketball, a system analogous to casting a worm in rapid succession until you get a bite. The San Antonio Spurs are better at this than any basketball team on the planet. At some point, enough torque can unravel any defense.
And it is that statement of truth, and the ability of each player to master the corresponding skill that their distinct duty demands, that has signaled the onset of Rodney Purvis’ breakout season.
There are three types of players: those who are great independent of variables of which they cannot control, those who are liabilities regardless of the roles they are asked to play, and those who can either excel or flounder based on things like roster composition, coach disposition, and role tenor. Purvis, despite exhibiting flaws a year ago that nothing beyond a re-calibration of basketball instincts can eradicate, falls squarely into the third camp, a camp that consists of players whose fate can be made or broken by the precarious line that separates diversity and redundancy.
In being paired with Sterling Gibbs, Purvis now represents half of a backcourt made in basketball heaven. Gibbs – who ranked first in the Big East last year in Effective Field Goal Percentage – demands attention on ball screens that few, if any other players in the country warrant due to the volume with which he hoists threes as much as the precision with which he hits them.
