The Rotation: James Harden breaks through

The NBA playoffs are here. The games are tighter, the lights are brighter, and the narratives are getting thick. It can be a lot to keep up with but don’t worry we’re here to help. Throughout the NBA postseason, FanSided will be gathering together some of the most talented writers from our network for a daily recap of our favorite stories from the night before.

Welcome to the Rotation.

TFW your team just doesn’t have it

Ian Levy | @HickoryHigh | FanSided

Rooting for a sports team is a strange blend of universal, regional, and intensely personal experiences. There are some things that fans of the Toronto Raptors and Indiana Pacers both understand deeply, in the very fiber of their being. There are other aspects of investing emotionally in those teams that outsiders would find unbelievably foreign. The thing is, when you’re on the inside, it’s hard to tell the difference.

From where I sit, games like Indiana’s 101-85 Game 3 loss to the Raptors are fundamental to the schema of those who root for the Pacers. For as long as I’ve followed Indiana, these kinds of performances have cropped up with frustrating regularly. They are the games where, for no obviously discernible reason, completing the most basic of basketball plays suddenly become a herculean task. The Pacers lost Game 3, badly, not because they were out-talented or out-worked from an effort perspective. They lost because no one could make a shot. Because simple entry passes were poked away. Because spacing was disjointed and everyone seemed to have a hard time hitting their marks on offense. Because box-outs weren’t sustained and every mishandled ball became a transition layup in the other direction. It was a subtle but thorough unraveling.

Paul George’s talent  is something new that Indiana fans are still reconciling with but the standard for the Pacers has long been a talent deficit against a good portion of the NBA, particularly those teams they face in the playoffs. Wins come from execution, synergy, communication, guts, heart, and other vagueries. When Indiana can’t pull those things together it gets ugly in a hurry, an intensely frustrating ugliness. How come we’re only throwing cross-court passes to the other team tonight? Any particularly reason we capped our defensive rotations at one per possession tonight? On all other nights we run effective sets, on this night we only make turnovers — why is this night different from all other nights?

As much as I associate these nights with the Indiana Pacers, I have a sneaking suspicion that fans of other teams have also experienced these games and may also think them a unique part of their fan community’s psyche. Perhaps while I was burning incense in my Paul George shrine after Game 1, Raptors fans were asking themselves the same difficult questions. Why can’t we pull it together in the playoffs? Why can’t we play as well as we do during the regular season? Why am I so unreasonably angry with Terrence Ross?

Some nights, your team just doesn’t have it.

Superhuman Paul George or bust

Brad Rowland | @BTRowland | FanSided

Superstars are always important in the world of the NBA, and that is especially true when the postseason arrives. In the case of Paul George and the Indiana Pacers in the 2016 playoffs, that has been taken to new heights.

It’s not your fault, Paul.

Indiana’s shocking 100-90 road victory over the Toronto Raptors in Game 1 was buoyed by a wildly effective offensive performance, led by George. The Pacers scored 1.16 points per possession in the series opener, and the multi-talented George poured in 33 points on 22 shot attempts, including a brisk 4-of-5 from beyond the three-point arc.

At the time, the buzz surrounding the performance centered on the “here we go again” mantra with regard to the Raptors, but there was at least a faint rumblings concerning what Indiana had done offensively. After all, this was George dominating the game individually and, subsequently, opening things up for his teammates to convert more than 50 percent of their long-range attempts.

Fast forward to the end of Game 3, and whatever goodwill appeared from George’s supporting cast has vanished.

While George himself was quite productive as Indiana fell into a 2-1 hole, the rest of the Pacers fell victim to simply waiting for their star to bail them out time and time again. George led the way again with 25 points, 10 rebounds and six assists, but his performance wasn’t nearly as efficient (25 points on 19 shots with 1-8 from three) and his teammates couldn’t create effectively in his stead.

Since the opener, the Pacers have failed to generate efficient offense, including a paltry mark of 0.944 points per possession in Games 2 and 3. A small portion of that can be tied to the slight dip from Paul George as an individual, but Indiana’s on-court leader has certainly performed in a way that is becoming of his considerable talents.

The team’s offensive misery came to an abrupt head in something of an embarrassing offensive showing during Indiana’s first home game of the series. George did everything within his power to create while DeMarre Carroll was draped on him for 35 of his 41 minutes of playing time, but he looked around and found little help. Turner, the uber-talented rookie big man, was the most consistent option with 17 points on 12 shots, but George’s primary complements (Hill and Ellis) scuffled to a combined 6-for-16 shooting performance on a night when they absolutely needed to at least take more than 20 shots in aid of their superstar.

Indiana wasn’t supposed to be a “good” offensive club when the playoffs rolled around and that was evidenced by an offensive efficiency (102.4 points per 100 possessions) that ranked within the league’s bottom ten during the regular season. Still, we may not find a situation where the superstar is carrying a bigger load with regard to his team’s success or failure during this postseason, and someone on the Indiana roster must rise to the occasion before the Pacers fade into obscurity for the summer.

What Does ‘It All’ Mean, Monta Ellis?

Wes Goldberg | @wcgoldberg | All U Can Heat, Hardwood Paroxysm

“To be honest, I would put myself in the same category as D-Wade. I mean, at the end of the day, the only thing that he have that I don’t have is, y’know, more wins and two championships.”

Real words from Monta Ellis, back in the 2012.

Wait, there’s more.

“That’s it. [thinks] I mean, as far as playing on the same level and competing every night [gathers his thoughts] both ends [keeps thinking] shoot inside, outside [thinking of more things] fast break [is that all the basketball things?] transition [ah, nailed it] Monta Ellis have it all.”

I have no idea what the interviewer said that led to that response or why he refers to himself in the third person, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t “please tell me how you and Dwyane Wade are the same player.”

Six years and three teams later, Ellis is in the playoffs with the Indiana Pacers, and entered Thursday night tied 1-1 with the Toronto Raptors in the series. Ellis had a particularly bad game. Have it all? Well, if “all” means four turnovers and making just three of nine shots then, yeah, he totally had it all.

And, y’know, if it wasn’t for the win that the Raptors got or the All-Star games its guards made then, yeah, Ellis and the Pacers are in the same category as the Raptors. When you think about it, the only thing that Stephen Curry has that Ellis doesn’t is a ring. Both make three-point shots. Both started their careers with the Warriors.

And Russell Westbrook? The only thing he has that Ellis doesn’t have is a few All-NBA and MVP votes. I mean, they are both reckless with the basketball… in their own way.

I mean, to be honest, the only thing that Michael Jordan has that Ellis doesn’t is, y’know, more wins and championships. Both can dribble the ball. They lace their shoes up just like the next guy.

The playoffs are a time when the small differences make, well, a difference. Possessions matter more, efficiency matters more, that extra bit that sets players apart — whether it be shooting a higher percentage at the rim or closing out on time on defense — casts wider ripples.

Ellis gave that notorious interview in 2012 but is still playing with the same unabashed arrogance of a player who truly thinks he has it all. He’s a fine player, even spectacular at times, but what has haunted Ellis is his ability to have it all in one moment, and lose it in the next. It’s hurt the teams that have signed him, and it’s no surprise that Ellis hasn’t made it out of the first round since his second season in the league, 10 years ago.

Doing something once means very little. Doing it over and over again is what makes the great players great. What leads to wins, All-Star games and rings. It’s what those players do who actually have it all.

Curry vs. Harden, The Rematch

Todd Whitehead | @CrumpledJumper | Nylon Calculus

It was supposed to be the next “Fight of the Century.” Golden State Warrior, Stephen Curry, is the undisputed heavyweight champ; last year’s MVP, the defending NBA champion, and the No. 1 scorer in the league this season at 30.1 ppg. Houston Rocket, James Harden, is the challenger; second in scoring behind Curry this season at 29.0 ppg and still hungry for a championship belt. Curry came out swinging in Game 1, with a flurry of shots and dribble combinations, scoring 24 points in the first half. Harden and his Houston teammates looked dazed, their knees were wobbling, and the fight was about to be called off. When, suddenly, Curry broke his hand on Harden’s face, metaphorically speaking. Curry’s real-life ankle injury sustained in Game 1 has left the Warriors’ offense punchless and it has postponed Curry-vs.-Harden-II, at least temporarily.

The first showdown between Curry and Harden came last year in the second game of the Western Conference Finals. The two guards exchanged feints and blows throughout the game (in Harden’s case, lots and lots of feints), with each of the competitors basically scoring at will. In the final moments of the match, Curry was forced to play seven frantic seconds of defense against Harden and — with the help of his teammate, Klay Thompson — he and the Warriors were saved by the bell. Harden was unable to land a knockout blow, losing control of the ball at the buzzer, and the Warriors held on to a one-point victory and a 2-0 lead in the series. In all, the pair scored 71 points that night; 38 for Harden and 33 for Curry. That’s a lot of points, but it’s actually not the best showdown of either player’s postseason career.

Best NBA playoff showdowns in the careers of James Harden and Stephen Curry; combined points scored each night by Harden + his highest scoring opponent (top) and by Curry + his highest scoring opponent (bottom), from 2013-2016, bars are grouped by year and round.

Note: I’ve excluded from the plot the 43 playoff games that Harden played with the Oklahoma City Thunder from 2010-2012; as he was still a middleweight during this period of his career.

Although the 2015 Western Conference Finals featured several high scoring outputs from Curry and Harden, you can see that there were better bouts in both of their playoff career histories. For Curry, the biggest showdown came in the subsequent round, where he and LeBron James combined to score 77 points in Game 5 of the NBA Finals; 37 for Curry and 40 for James. This was, by far, Curry’s highest point total of the Finals and it was the day he knocked Matthew Dellavedova’s ankles unconscious and mean-mugged over their motionless body. Curry also combined to score more than 70 points with Tony Parker in the second round of the 2013 Playoffs (a postseason career high 44 points for Curry, 28 for Parker, 72 combined) and with Anthony Davis in the first round of the 2015 Playoffs (39 points for Curry, 36 for Davis, 75 combined).

For Harden, his biggest showdown was with Dirk Nowitzki in the first of the 2015 Playoffs (42 points for Harden, 34 for Nowitzki, 76 combined). He also surpassed the 70-point threshold in points playing against his former teammate, Kevin Durant, in the first round of the 2013 Playoffs (30 points for Harden, 41 for Durant, 71 combined) and with LaMarcus Aldridge in the first round of the 2014 Playoffs (27 points for Harden, 46 for Aldridge, 73 combined).

This postseason, the first round series between the Warriors and the Rockets promised a rematch between Curry and Harden and a chance for the pair to establish a new level of playoff rivalry. To surpass the Curry-James mark of 77 points combined, Curry and Harden would each need to score 39 points (or 38 and 40, 37 and 41, etc.). During the regular season, Curry scored 39 points or more during 15 of his 79 appearances (19.0 percent); whereas Harden scored 39 or more 13 times in his 82 games (15.9 percent). At these rates, the probability that both would score at least 39 points in the same game was somewhere around three percent, so that, over the course of their series, the duo might have had as much as a 1-in-5 chance of each posting 39 points in the same game (assuming the maximum of seven-games played). Even if nobody could guarantee a double-40-point game, it seemed assured that at least a few scoring exchanges would make the series pay-per-view worthy. So far, though, it’s been only shadow boxing, with first Curry, and now Harden, taking a turn in the ring, but no opportunity to watch the two square off face-to-face.

After Golden State’s impressive Game 2 win sans Curry, Houston appeared to be down for the count. The trouble was, nobody told James Harden that his corner threw in the towel. In fact, he’s still punching like he’s in the title fight, scoring 35 points in Game 3 last night. In some ways, the ending of last night’s game was reminiscent of Curry-vs.-Harden-I (i.e., the 2015 Western Conference Finals, Game 2); Harden again found himself holding the ball with his team down one and under ten seconds left to play. However, this time — without Curry around to stymie him in the clinch — Harden was able to step back, create some space, and deliver an uppercut (in the form of a 10-foot game-winning jump shot). It seems unlikely that Harden’s clutch shot will end up being a knockout blow for the Warriors, but, perhaps, it will be the jolt that wakes up The Champ and draws him back into a street fight. I’m expecting Curry to return to action for Game 4 on Sunday and there may be time yet for Curry-vs.-Harden-II.

J.J. Barea: Surrealist master

Nathan Heck | @NathanHeck22 | Pelican Debrief

The Dallas Mavericks were thoroughly thrashed by the Oklahoma City Thunder on Thursday night, and there really is no way to say it in a more positive fashion. Drowned by the Thunder’s deluge of talent, the Mavericks were simply outclassed, as many expected they would be. From the perspective of an onlooker, though, there is more to a game of basketball than the final score, and Dallas dominated the Thunder in one regard.

Basketball, by its very nature, is an aesthetically pleasing sport. When compared to the current king of team sports in the United States, football, which is entirely predicated on men in excess of 200 pounds plowing into each other with enough force to move mountains, basketball is a game of finesse and beauty. Every finger-roll, every rainbow three-pointer and every clean pass inside for a layup seems like a work of art. When it comes to creating such achievements of visual stimulation, there are few better than the cheerfully diminutive J.J. Barea.

Perhaps because of his small stature, Barea has developed the undeniably pleasing ability to navigate the terrain of an NBA court by way of an effortless glide. Defenders cannot seem to stay in front of him despite their dramatic advantage in height and wingspan, and his ability to change speeds seemingly in an instant allows him to simply waltz around nearly any opposing player. This unique talent, this expression of aesthetic brilliance, is on full display when the Dallas Mavericks allow the offense to center around the pick-and-roll.

When given the opportunity, J.J. does everything within his power to create surrealist masterpieces with Dirk Nowitzki in the pick and roll. Dimensions and the concrete concept of space mean nothing to this artistic crusader. Around every screen, Barea seems to bend space and distort the floor as he sees fit. The moment an opposing forward or center slides over to prevent Barea from skating to an easy layup, more space is seemingly created where there previously was none. In the beginning of the fourth quarter, Barea demonstrated his penchant for warping the world around him. The defense crashed upon him, but the shifty guard paid no mind; instead, he coolly sank a hook shot over the outstretched arms of the towering defender. Nearly every other guard in the NBA would have had their attempt shoved back in their face, but J.J. Barea suffered no such fate.

Due to the gravity of Barea, he is often able to distribute the ball to his artistic foil, Dirk Nowitzki, for clean looks at the basket. One such display occurred in the third quarter. The defense, expecting the signature play of the duo, defended it well, but the ball split the difference between the two defenders, a matter of a few feet, to arrive in Nowitzki’s hands in stride for a picturesque finger-roll. The pass seemed as effortless as a handoff, and the very nature of the connection is a testament to the simplistic elegance of the pick-and-roll virtuosity of Barea and Nowitzki.

The Dallas Mavericks will likely be eliminated two games from now by the Oklahoma City Thunder, but Barea and company have exhibited a collection of artistic triumphs that represent victories in their own right.

Kevin Durant doesn’t believe in adjustments either

Derek James | @DerekJamesNBA | Hardwood Paroxysm

A few days ago, Charlotte Hornets coach Steve Clifford went on a rant about how fans and media overestimate the need for adjustments after a bad game. Clifford believes that the difference in result can be a player going from 1-of-8 shooting to 5-for-8 and you don’t just abandon your strategy after one bad game. When you hear it put like that, his argument makes a lot of sense.

Kevin Durant apparently thinks similarly. Durant shot a horrendous 7-for-33 from the field in Game 2 of Oklahoma City’s series versus Dallas. After that performance Durant certainly must have gone back to the lab and put in some work, right? Surely he must have analyzed the mechanics of every miss? Well, evidently not.

“When I play well, I don’t throw a party for myself afterward,” Durant said after a 34-point performance in Game 3. “If I play terrible, I’m not going to go out and change anything up. I’m going to go out there and do the same thing I’ve been doing.”

Durant bounced back in the best way with 20 first half points and finished with 30 points on 11-of-25 shooting. Sure, Durant started 7-for-9 from the field but his early rhythm set the tone for the game, and most importantly, earned his team the win.

After all, why should Durant have needed to entertain the idea of adjustments? Durant is arguably the best scorer in the league. He’s a former MVP, a member of the 50-40-90 season club, and a four-time scoring champion. After all, it’s not like he forgot how to shoot a basketball, so why panic over an off-game?

All night long, Durant fired up shots in traffic and tip-toed on the baseline to get to the basket. Very few players can take and make these types of shots on a regular basis but even elite shooters like Durant struggle to find the bottom of the net sometimes. By no means was Durant gun shy on Thursday night either.

When you see it on paper, it’s pretty silly to fret over one bad outing. In fact, having a short memory and unending supply of confidence is what you need in a superstar like Durant.