Houston Rockets: Borderline offensive

The Step Back has been born from the aesthetics and traditions of the Hardwood Paroxysm Basketball Network. In the past, Hardwood Paroxysm has produced a massive stand-alone season preview. This year, that preview effort has been rolled up into the launch of The Step Back. 

The Step Back’s writers and illustrators have prepared a hefty deep-dive into each team, built from multiple smaller sections. This year’s theme is television comedies and each section is named after some of our favorite sitcoms. For links to all 30 teams, as well as details about the focus of each section, check out our guide on how to read this preview.

Community

By Bryan Harvey (@LawnChairBoys)

A twenty-seven year old Eric Gordon walks through the streets of Houston at dusk. Despite the Global Warming heat, he wears a peacoat buttoned to his chin. He walks briskly on the sidewalk. He sweats. He narrates his movements.

“The life of an NBA player is tough. It’s not easy as some people think. You have to wake up and play basketball, and most of the basketball isn’t seen by anybody. No one buys tickets to practices. No one sells tickets to the weight room. You want to play, but sometimes you’re injured. You don’t play when you’re injured. Of course, it’s not quite so difficult as being a playwright, which is pretty much impossible these days.”

A truck drives by in the foreground, eclipsing Gordon’s journey. He reflects on when basketball was just a game. He regrets its transformation into nothing more than a job.

He checks his phone: the time reads 7:00. He is on his way to meet James Harden, his new teammate for dinner. Harden is also twenty-seven, but wise enough to grow a beard.

Eric tells himself he’s looking forward to the dinner. In the past, the conversations between James and himself have been rather brief, limited to in game trash talk and postgame exchanges. He is nervous too. James, an obviously talented basketball player, is a star with a penchant for either running from talent or running off talent. Eric wants to make a good impression. He wants to be a solution where the past has revealed none.

He approaches the restaurant. He notices the establishment is tie only. He pulls a clip-on out of his wool jacket. Pacing on the sidewalk, he clips the paisley pattern to his t-shirt collar. He scans the menu posted by the front door and enters.

A woman at the coat check takes his coat, hanging it on a wooden hanger. He tells the host: “My name is Eric Gordon. I’m here to meet James Harden.”

The host tells him: “That table will be a minute, but you’re welcome to have a seat at the bar.”
Eric approaches the bar. He orders an exotic, yet expensive water. No lemon wedge needed. He sips it slowly. He observes a string quartet. He wonders if that’s an every night occurrence. He attempts to balance what he knows of Harden’s ascetic appearance with the wealth in the room. He knows James has money—he’s seen the commercials. But why the beard? Did it have a spirit? Or was it all some form of branding? Eric darts his eyes from table to table. He sees bankers and oil barons and members of the tech industry. These people, at least by appearance, have nothing in common with James Harden. None of these dudes can Euro-step, flop, get to the line, at least not the way James can. Eric finishes his expensive beverage and sits the empty glass on the bar.

“Eric!”

Eric turns to see a man with his arms held high for an embrace. The man is wearing a ribbed wool sweater, green as pond scum. The two men hug.

Wow, thinks Eric, I’m really a Rocket. This guy’s not so bad. Out loud he says: “You look terrific.”
“Well, I feel terrible,” says James through his beard. “Absolutely terrible.”

In his head Eric starts to wonder: have I ever seen James without a beard? Who is he really? He really is a fascinating character who I really know nothing about except that he went from sixth man to MVP candidate simply by choosing to leave one of the most intriguing assemblages of raw talent in the league’s history? Who is James Harden?

James orders a drink. Eric orders another exotic water. The two engage in small talk. A waiter comes and tells them the table is ready. They both say, “Oh,” in affirming tones and follow the man in a tuxedo through the bar and into the dining area. The tables are all immaculate. Conversations buzz throughout the room. There’s will be one of many. They sit down, exchange a few remarks with the waiter, he leaves, they are alone.

Eric decides the best way to relieve the mounting tension of expectation is to ask James a few questions. He even thinks of himself as a lawyer facing a witness called to the stand or, better yet, as a private investigator, maybe even a reporter.

“Is he still injured?”

“Who?” responds James over his menu.

“Patrick Beverly. Is he still injured?”

“Oh, yes.” James rearranges the table’s centerpiece and cracks a joke lacking a punchline about an item on the menu. Eric laughs, but notes to himself that he doesn’t understand. James rearranges the centerpiece back to how it was originally. A lot of his movements now and throughout the evening will reveal themselves as unnecessary.

As they wait for the waiter to return, Eric asks another question, “Do you understand anything on this menu? I feel like I need a translator. Where are the pictures? You know, we could have met at the Cheesecake Factory—they’ve got everything.”

Holding his menu in one hand, James strokes his beard with the other. He looks dismissively at Eric. He does not respond. When the waiter returns, he orders for both of them. Eric will not know what he’s eating until it arrives.

Finally, Eric builds up the courage to ask another question: “So what’s it been like playing with Houston the last few years?” He wants to sound positive—excited even—for their potential pairing in the backcourt. He wants basketball to be fun again.

Initially, James greets the question with what could only be described as reluctance. Then he slowly drifts into the past. “I was twenty-two and living in Oklahoma City. I could feel the sadness and turmoil and upheaval of the land. It was a place of tears and a place of dreams. I did not choose it, of course. I was drafted into it.” He pauses. “It all seemed so ridiculous. I was not a star. I was not scoring twenty points a game. We had no rings. We had only our youth and our talent. I was not yet a starter, and yet I had nothing left to learn. I left. I packed up my things and went in search of greater things. I wanted to know not what a conch shell sounded like—because we all know it sounds like the ocean—but what it felt like to live and breathe inside that ocean. I wanted to crawl inside of a conch shell. That’s why I came to Houston, and you know what I found.”

“You’re too big to fit inside a conch shell.”

“No, I had already given up that dream, but I ran into Daryl Morey. I found him surrounded by small men. They were all dressed like Willy Wonka, but he was dressed like an oompa loompa. Anyway, I found him, and he said I’ll fund whatever you want to do—no matter how ridiculous. So I told him to bring me eleven individuals without names who had never seen a basketball and that I would mold them in my own image. He laughed and said, ah, a God complex, and I told him, no, a Harden complex. Anyway, you know what he brought me?”

“I don’t.”

“He brought me Jeremy Lin and Chandler Parsons. I thought, okay, that could work. I mean they weren’t exactly what I had asked for, but they were something. One of them loved basketball, but hadn’t found a basketball city he could love. The other had a city that loved him, but hadn’t found a team he could run. I knew they would both be capable of sitting, as if with a flute and a lyre in a wooded glen, and echoing the tapestry of my own thoughts and movements throughout a season. I thought it had a real chance to be beautiful. All I needed now were a wild boar and a hermit, but I had to settle for Omer Asik. I made them eat off a stone slab of my triumphs. Sometimes life provides challenges, and all we must do is persevere. I have always made an effort to persevere—what else is there?”

The man sips from his glass.

“Technically, at that time, the world was interesting, or as interesting as something so steadfast and common can be, and we sang and danced and pretended to get along, but deep down, I knew this was not why I had left Oklahoma City. I needed to grow antlers and be made out of mud. I could not do that with this cast of actors.”

“What do you mean exactly?” asks Eric, in a way that is as much a reminder he is still in the room as it is a question.

“I mean we would just stand around for the most part waiting for someone to have an impulse to do something. Now in a way that’s something like basketball. You know if you were a point guard you might make an effort to get others involved, but if you’re just a guy brining the ball up, then you’re not really a point guard and therefore you’re defying expectations with everything you do. In other words, what I wanted them to do was not a theatrical representation of basketball but basketball as we ourselves would play it. I didn’t want us to have positions, but I also didn’t want us to be position-less. I wanted us to be moored by our identities and who we are off the court, which means you would really do whatever you do off the court on the court. I had heard that Jeremy used to sleep on couches in New York, so I tried to lull him into sleeping on the court. He almost did it, but in the end, he was found lacking in imagination. He wasn’t able to be himself, so he left for Los Angeles. Same with Chandler who left for Dallas. There were others guys, too. I think Patrick Patterson is in Toronto or somewhere. I don’t know. I really only worry about Houston and, more specifically, just being James.”

Eric rubs his face in confusion. He questions everything he’s just heard. He tries not to be rude. He wonders if he’s made a mistake in coming here. What does it all mean? He asks about Dwight.

“Dwight could never answer the right questions. He never knew where he was coming from and where he was going. He thought it was enough to run a pick and roll or to post up on the block, but how can one do that if he doesn’t have an answer to his identity?”

“Isn’t he Superman, though?”

“Ah, but as Oscar Wilde said, everyone else is already taken. Superman is Superman. Heck, Clark Kent is Superman, but who is Dwight?”

“I once saw Anthony Davis shoot too many three-pointers.”

“But see I admire that. A man who shoots too many three-pointers is at least searching to be something more than what he is, and no man is truly who he is now. It has to be a quest.”

Eric looks for the waiter.

“Eric, you know something, I think I would like our team to be like a beehive.”

Eric looks again for the waiter.

“What is a beehive you might be wondering. Well, it’s a group of strangers entering the half court and whatever happens is a beehive. Of course, someone will have to have the ball. The person with the ball will probably have to score. After all, that person is probably a queen or something, you know, the leader of the beehive. Leaders have to score. Everyone else has to participate in a way that contributes to the leader leading. They have to do little bee stuff. I don’t want it to be this way, but it is this way. You can’t change the way something is. It just is. Or, in colloquial terms, it do what it do, which means it can’t do anything else. What would you bring to a beehive?”

“Um, I don’t know.” Eric looks around for the waiter. “Maybe honey.”

“Ha. Honey!—that’s rich. What about candles? Maybe a wedge of cheese. Would you bring a teddy bear or toenail clippers? Would you dance? There’s a very thin line between being in a trance and being part of a beehive. You can hear it in the hum. Anyway, one of us would have to bring a basketball. Trevor’s pretty good at remembering things like that. Anyway, if one of us brings a ball, we can toss it from one body to the next. Some of us might even pretend it’s a baby and have it suckle at the breast, while others might punish it and pound it against the floor and some of us might shoot it. Sometimes I pretend I’m dying and just launch the ball into the air like it’s the last ray of sunshine. What would you do, Eric?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, if you were part of a fascist beehive that was somehow spiritually fulfilling. Do you think about such things? A basketball player really should think about such things? It’s part of the journey through the forest.”

“I have to use the bathroom. Do you know where the bathroom is?”

“First, a test.”

“Huh?”

“Not a test like in school, but like from the Bible, to see what you’re made of in the face of God.” James pushes a candle forward on the table. “Put your hand in the flame.”

“What?”

“Eric, I want you to hold the flame.”

“Can I go to the bathroom first?”

James sighs. “Sure, but when you return it might be two flames.”

“Sure.” Eric stands up and walks towards where he hopes to find the bathroom. He passes the waiter on the way. He avoids eye contact. He finds the bathroom. He enters. He exits. He looks in the direction of his table. He notices a man sitting in his seat. He decides to walk on the other side of the booth, so that James will not see him heading for the exit. When he arrives in the vicinity of the table, he looks out the corner of his eye and realizes the man sitting in his seat is Mike D’Antoni. And, at this moment, he’s struck by a strange epiphany. D’Antoni appears to be doing all the talking, and the hand gestures he uses are exactly like the gestures James had used while talking to Eric.

Eric strains to hear what the coach might be saying.

“And then, James, you know what, people thought there must be something wrong with me. They wouldn’t say it to my face, but I could tell it was what they were thinking.” The coach dabs his eyes with a cloth napkin, but the tears flow larger and stronger. He is on the verge of weeping. “You see what I think I experienced is to know what it means to be truly alive, for at least seven seconds, I knew what that felt like, and every moment I don’t feel that reminds me of what I felt for that seven seconds. That’s very frightening because that means I also know very much what it means to be in death’s presence—”
Eric does not wait to hear anymore. He rushes for the door. However, as he enters the bar area he notices several Rockets players all standing around, as if waiting for something to begin. He bumps into Ryan Anderson.

“Hey, Eric, how’s it going?”

“Um, okay, I’m just on my way home.”

Ryan looks at his watch. “It’s early, man.”

“Yeah, I know, but I’m exhausted.”

“Ah, you’ve been talking with James probably. He’s a genius, isn’t he?”

“Um, sure, I guess so.”

“I just—I feel he has a way of centering everything, and you always know your role. It’s like being an extra in a play. I just stand by the arc and know I’m a window washer.”

“What does that have to with basketball?”

“Everything, Eric, everything. And you know why—because it helps me see the game better, to just stand and watch.”

“Well, that’s great. What are you doing here?”

“Oh, we’ve all got dinner appointments with Harden?”

“Tonight?”

“Yeah. We do this eighty-two times a year.

“One at a time?”

“One at a time.”

Eric’s heart sinks. Apparently, James is like this with everyone.

How I Met Your Mother

By Evans Clinchy (@evansclinchy)

It feels odd to say this about a team that’s been built around a three-time Defensive Player of the Year winner, but the numbers bear it out: Over the last few years, the Houston Rockets’ greatest weakness has been their defense. Daryl Morey went out and signed Dwight Howard in 2013 with the expectation that he’d morph them into a juggernaut on that end overnight; it didn’t happen. The Rockets ranked 13th, eighth and 21st in the NBA in defensive efficiency during Howard’s three seasons there. They were competitive at best, lousy at worst. Last year’s Rockets eked out a .500 record and a playoff spot, but only by bludgeoning teams offensively. They averaged 108.3 points per 100 possessions to their opponents’ 108.1.

You’d think that given this obvious imbalance, the Rockets would have done something this summer to address it. Turns out, that didn’t happen. Their new coach is Mike D’Antoni, who’s been lauded over the years as an offensive mastermind but has never shown much of an acumen on the other end. Their two major signings in free agency were Eric Gordon and Ryan Anderson — both stellar shooters, but neither known for doing much else.

Maybe the Rockets didn’t address their defensive needs because the personnel necessary for that just wasn’t available; it’s not as though Al Horford, Hassan Whiteside, or even a Bismack Biyombo type was knocking down Morey’s door for a meeting in July. Likewise, there was never any chatter about a top defensive coach like Frank Vogel showing interest. Or maybe, the Rockets didn’t care. Maybe they assessed their roster and the talent available to bolster it, and they made a conscious decision — we’re an offense-first team, and now’s the time to double down on that.

It’s weird, but that just might work. The Rockets have the potential to be really, really, scary good offensively. In James Harden, they have one of the very best offensive players in the league — an all-purpose guard who’s both a dynamic playmaker and shot creator, brutally efficient in everything he does. In Clint Capela, they’ve got a big man who’s already demonstrated his chops in the pick-and-roll game, and unlike Howard, he’s actually shown a willingness to play it rather than demand ball-stopping touches in the post. Around those two, the Rockets have an army of shooters as well. Basically everyone on the floor around Capela (or likely backup Nene) is capable of drilling the open three. The Rockets’ perimeter weapons this season will include Patrick Beverley (40.0 percent from deep last year), Trevor Ariza (37.1), Gordon (38.4), Anderson (36.6), and Harden (35.9). There will be nary a weak link.

D’Antoni is arguably the greatest coach of his era from an offensive standpoint. In Phoenix a decade ago, he was one of the innovators who ushered in the modern era of pacing, spacing, pick-and-roll-oriented basketball. In Houston today, he’s got the perfect collection of talent to continue that legacy. There are question marks, sure, but D’Antoni just might make this work anyway. Capela might not be prime Amar’e Stoudemire, but he’s a supremely gifted young big man, and assuming he keeps improving in year three, he should fit beautifully. Gordon and Anderson aren’t exactly guaranteed to be healthy, but even 50 games from each would be enough to bolster the Rockets’ shooting in a massive way.

The Rockets’ goal this season is obvious — they will attempt to win with brute-force offense, pounding out as many 116-112 wins as possible. It might sound crazy, but it’s not entirely unprecedented. The closest analog in recent history might be the 2014-15 Los Angeles Clippers, who finished first in the NBA and offense and 15th in defense. That team managed 56 wins and a second-round playoff appearance, losing to — ironically — the Rockets. Is that the ceiling for a team that can only bring it on one end? Possibly. But this Houston team is poised to test that hypothesis, and no matter how the results come out, the experiment will be fun as hell to watch.

Richard Mackson-USA TODAY Sports

Third Rock From the Sun

By Scott Rafferty (@crabdribbles)

All Clint Capela needs to do is roll.

It’s really that simple. The new-look Houston Rockets, who are firmly in the hands of James Harden now, are more like the team we’d expect to see from general manager Daryl Morey. No longer will they have to build an offense around the post-heavy Dwight Howard and rely on the likes of Josh Smith, Michael Beasley and Corey Brewer to bring them scoring off the bench. Harden will be the engine that drives them — and what a unique engine he is — while some of the NBA’s best 3-point shooters surround him to give him all the spacing he needs.

To make that happen, Capela will need to embrace his role as a pick-and-roll scorer, which would come easy to him in a perfect world. At 21-years-old, Capela scored nearly 20 percent of his points in the pick-and-roll last season and converted them at a rate few centers could match. He’s a massive target at 6-11 with a 7-4 wingspan, and he has the athleticism and soft touch to build on that success in a bigger role.

Put that in a pick-and-roll-heavy system like Mike D’Antoni’s, and there’s no reason why it shouldn’t work. On a simple level, bringing a second defender to prevent Harden from getting to the basket — something he does better than just about everyone — would set the table for Capela to glide to the rim for an alley-oop. Crash the paint, though, and someone like Ryan Anderson and Eric Gordon will have precious seconds to get off a 3-pointer.

The thing is, it would’ve been that simple when Howard was on the Rockets, except he never fully embraced his potential as a pick-and-roll scorer. Capela is different. At least, we think he is. We have good reason to be optimistic that he’ll buy into his role, but we expected the same from Howard when he first joined the Rockets. It’s different now that Capela is a starter on a team hoping to contend in the playoffs with a year remaining on his rookie contract. He might eventually want more scoring opportunities in the form of post-ups like Howard did, and that would only take away from what he does best.

Perfect Strangers

by Matt D’Anna (@hoop_nerd)

Ten Word Analysis: This is beautiful; D’Antoni is the perfect coach for it.

TeamSPACE charts are based on mapped clusters of shot activity. These areas are affectionately called Hunting Grounds, because they are the areas on the court where a player hunts for shots — and successfully scores most often. TeamSPACE takes the Hunting Grounds of all five players in a lineup and puts them on the court together — because, you know, they have to share that physical space, and there is only one ball.

In the past, it was one color per player; which meant that blending colors represented overlapping spaces for shot activity. But this time around, these are not your ordinary TeamSPACE shot maps. Each lineup is analyzed in the aggregate — one color! — and that unit is compared that unit to the rest of the league. So you will see a persistent red layer on every chart, highlighting the league’s Hunting Grounds from last season. The most prolific locations should come as no surprise: the paint, the corners, most of the top of the arc, and a couple of dabs at the foul line and top of the key.

So…how were these lineups chosen for each team? In the past, it’s been about projecting the starting lineup, estimating the most used lineup, or even designing the “most favoritest” lineup. This year? It’s the these charts represent the “most interestingly feasible” lineups….what? That’s a loaded phrase, so let’s unpack it a bit.

The goal is to identify the collection of five players on a team that could potentially play together, and if they did, the offensive results could be glorious. Ideally these lineups aren’t too far-fetched, but also slightly off-kilter and confusing to an opposing defense. While this type of analysis is not conducive for assessing defense, somewhat reasonable decisions are attempted to be made. So while it’s tempting to just put all the best shooters together…how realistic is it (outside of Houston, at least)? And, full disclosure: I favor some stretch in my lineups. It not only provides plenty of high-octane potential, but getting stretchy is also on par with current league-wide trends.

Each TeamSPACE chart has a couple of other sitcom-related features:

Family Matters: You’ll notice a series of Jaleel White’s across half court. Each lineup is scored on a scale of 0-7 Steve Urkels for how well it matches league-wide trends. Remember, there’s seven league Hunting Grounds (right corner three; at the rim; left corner three; foul line/top of the key; right wing; middle 3pt; left wing). A lineup gains points for matching each area; it loses points for messy excess shot activity.

Odd Couple: “Most interestingly feasible” is obviously debatable, so in order to account for some of those decisions, you’ll see Oscar and Felix on each chart. Often, there are players that are in the lineup…and maybe/probably they should not be. They get the Oscar label. And, there are those players that are out of the lineup…and maybe/probably should be included. They are the Felix for their team.

And briefly, a word about data. These strange visual displays are based on last season’s shot data, weighted by made buckets — so rookies and season-long injuries are sadly excluded. This analysis is nothing without the help of Darryl Blackport, and the research materials available at Basketball-Reference and NBA.com. Further, these charts feature some of the best logo re-designs I could curate from the ol’ Information Superhighway, including Dribbble.com and Pinterest. I made none of the logos; I merely selected some of my favorites. Enjoy!

Freaks And Geeks

By Matt Femrite (@FattMemrite)

The Houston Rockets allowed 108.1 per 100 possessions last season, according to Basketball-Reference. That was 21st in the league, and a drop-off from a mark of 103.4 in 2014-15 for multiple reasons. They continued their struggle on the boards, last in percentage of available defensive rebounds grabbed at 72.8 percent, and declined in effective field goal percentage allowed, from seventh in 2014-15 to 23rd last season. Houston also allowed the fourth-most percentage of shots around the rim, the fourth highest allowed three-point rate, and allowed the 10th highest three-point percentage.

The Rockets are known for favoring shots around the rim and from beyond the arc, but last season teams dished it back.

The struggles on defense are expected to continue after losing Dwight Howard, who was sixth in defensive rebound percentage at 29.1, minimum 1,000 minutes. Acquisitions expected to play big minutes are Eric Gordon and Ryan Anderson, two high-volume three-point shooters who commit few turnovers and make a top-five offense a good bet. The problem is they’re two of the worst defenders by Defensive Box Plus-Minus since starting their careers in 2009, minimum 8,000 minutes (averaging 1,000 minutes per season). Both offer little positional versatility, making them hard to hide (or to hide James Harden) on defense. Gordon and Harden could guard threes because of their strength, but Anderson doesn’t offer the rim protection to play center or the speed to switch onto wings.

Houston’s one saving grace on defense could be the rate they forced turnovers last season, 14.7 per 100 plays, according to Basketball-Reference, which ranked second in the NBA. Houston has six of the top 60 players last season in steals percentage, minimum 1,000 minutes, and maybe another if K.J. McDaniels becomes a dependable rotational player. Gary Payton II, who averaged 4.1 steals per 100 possessions last season at Oregon State, is another possibility.

A conservative, less aggressive defense is possible. This typically trades steals for the hopes of limiting threes and free throws. Teams coached by Mike D’Antoni have a reputation for reaching league-average defense by doing just that, including 2004-05 when the Phoenix Suns allowed the third-lowest free throw rate ever, relative to league averages. But going conservative could stress the defense of Trevor Ariza at 31-years-old, Clint Capela at 22, and even Nene at 34 beyond what they’re capable of at their ages.

There’s also a chance at forcing a ton of turnovers without fouling. Houston returns the nosey wings of Corey Brewer (25th in steals percentage, minimum 1,000 minutes), Patrick Beverley (34th), and Harden’s capable of making timely gambles versus totally falling asleep on defense. Meanwhile, Anderson replaces the minutes from Josh Smith, Terrence Jones, and Donatas Motiejunas, all of whom fouled about two to three times more often per 36 minutes than Houston’s new stretch four. Gordon’s also foul-averse, 2.2 fouls per 36 minutes, and Capela’s rate of 4.6 showed that, despite his age, he has the potential to stay out of foul trouble.

There’s been little doubt about Houston’s scoring since acquiring Harden. From 2013 to 2016, they’ve finished sixth, fourth, 12th, and seventh in offensive efficiency. This season should be another where they crack the top-five thanks to finding the shooters they’ve needed for years at shooting guard and power forward, but it put them in a pickle on defense. Hiding two or three poor defenders, let alone one, gets increasingly harder each season.

For Houston to get into 50-win territory and beyond, all they have to be on the defensive side of the floor is, well, not totally terrible. The question is how Houston works around this. Given their roster, gobbling up defensive rebounds is unlikely. Neither is the potential of dual rim protection once enjoyed with two of Howard, Omer Asik, and Capela, but the Rockets could fuel an offense destined to be solid by embracing the aggressiveness of their wings, and seek out opportunities for steals.

Everybody Loves Raymond

By Matt Cianfrone (@Matt_Cianfrone)

It isn’t easy to love the Houston Rockets. After all, their best player is a ball stopping chucker who infuriates fans with his dramatic ability to flail around and draw an incredible number of free throws. Their second best player over the past few years was a giant man baby who loved fart jokes more than a middle schooler and desperately wanted people to love him. But dig a bit deeper and there are a few really enjoyable characters on this Rockets roster, and none of them are as easy to root for as Corey Brewer.

The most important part of understanding Brewer’s likeability is understanding that he isn’t that good at basketball. Sure, for most players who were drafted with the seventh overall pick that tends to be a problem. But for Brewer, somehow, it hasn’t been. As Brewer enters the 10th season of his NBA career, he has posted a player efficiency rating above the league average of 15 exactly zero times. In fact, the only time that Brewer has ended a season with a PER over 15 for a team was in 2010-11 when he put up a 17.6 PER for the Dallas Mavericks in just 13 games and 148 minutes. His career true shooting percentage sits at just .500 and he turns the ball over more often than he assists a teammates basket.

So yeah, Brewer doesn’t make much of an impact on offense.

That said, Brewer continues to get jobs year after year in the NBA, a lot of which probably has to do with his personality. Brewer has a contagious smile and always seems to be wearing it. Considering how stone faced many NBA players can be, seeing Brewer constantly laughing and smiling after a big play is a refreshing sight. It isn’t just the fans that seem to like Brewer’s attitude, either. Teammates seem to love Brewer and go nuts when he is doing well. For a Rockets team that surely needs a chemistry boost, Brewer should be very helpful this year.

His style of play is pretty endearing, too. Like many players who are loveable despite being below average — and man, there are quite a few of them around the league — Brewer is unique. As his constant smile and energy would have you guess, Brewer never seems to stop moving. On defense he flies around the floor gambling for steals (which don’t come near enough to justify the risk). When he does get one, Brewer is off to the races in a way you’d expect from a player with a Basketball-Reference nickname of “The Drunken Dribbler.” Like Tony Allen, there seems to be as likely a chance that Brewer dribbles the ball off his leg and out-of-bounds as there is that he finishes a fast break with a dunk or rebound. Most importantly, Brewer is contagious. Once he checks into a game it seems that chaos follows. Passes get deflected, rebounds take funny bounces and it feels like fast breaks take up the majority of possessions.

Of course, Brewer doesn’t need a fast tempo to be terrifyingly fun. When he takes a three — and he takes more and more every year — it feels like the shot is just as likely to smash into the side of the backboard as it is to go in. Despite all of that, the highs Brewer produces are incredibly high. There was the 51 points he scored in a win in 2014. Or the games he has helped completely swing due to his energy and effort. There is a lot of bad with Brewer, but every so often he manages to turn it all into positives.

That really is the most enduring thing about Brewer. Despite being, well, a bad basketball player, Brewer carries himself with the confidence of a star. In fact, if you head to the about section of his official website and be greeted by the sentence “Corey Brewer is a tenth year NBA star.” The entire thing is so Corey Brewer. Just like not being a good NBA player hasn’t stopped him so far, grammar won’t stop Brewer from being confident.

And that attitude, and the terrific smile, is what makes Brewer the most likeable player on the Rockets. Even if it may not be that high of a bar to clear.

Boy Meets World

By Trevor Magnotti (@IllegalScreens)

The Houston Rockets have developed players well under Daryl Morey. They’ve been able to both unearth and polish several quality players from the late-first round, second round, or D-League over the years. Three players they’ve worked on developing will play very key roles for them this year: Patrick Beverley, Clint Capela, and Donatas Motiejunas. Players like Isaiah Canaan, Robert Covington, and Troy Daniels have also landed roster spots thanks to their time with Houston and their D-League team, the Rio Grande Valley Vipers.

Now that Beverley, Capela, and Motiejunas should be firmly entrenched in the rotation, it’s time to focus on a new wave of intriguing Houston prospects. Sam Dekker, Montrezl Harrell, K.J. McDaniels, and Chinanu Onuaku are all late-first round or early-second round prospects from the last three drafts, and will fill out the bottom of Houston’s roster in addition to spending time with RGV. Between these four, the Rockets hope that their development time can pay off in quality frontcourt and wing depth.

Dekker was the highest selection of the four as the 18th pick of the 2015 Draft. However, he also has the most to prove. He saw very little playing time last year, appearing in just three games for Houston and an additional seven games in Rio Grande Valley. Dekker basically has nowhere to go but up on the court, because there’s not much you can accomplish in six minutes of garbage time. He also wasn’t the best in the D-League, as the touted three-point specialist hit just 23.7 percent from beyond the arc. Dekker is still a first-round level talent thanks to his shooting form, ability to move off the ball, and his size, but he’s essentially starting from scratch this year. Also, with the additions of Eric Gordon and Ryan Anderson, playing time may be hard to come by again. He’ll need to show more in Rio Grande to make sure he sticks around past this season.

Harrell, Dekker’s 2015 draft-mate, was more productive for the Rockets last season. Harrell played in 39 games, averaging 3.6 points and 1.7 rebounds per contest, and was a monster in his 12 D-League games, posting 24.3 points and 9.3 rebounds per contest. Harrell showed promise as a finisher, hitting 64.4 percent from the field in Houston, and he was able to hang on defensively despite being an undersized rookie. For Harrell to move into the rotation, he’ll need to improve his rebounding — 6.2 rebounds per 36 minutes isn’t great for a power forward. But his energy and finishing make him an interesting potential fit next to Motiejunas or Anderson.

Onuaku is probably a year away from contributing, but he seems like the perfect center to spend time at RGV. Much like Capela before him, Onuaku’s skill set lends to being the center for the type of offense the Rockets want to run. He’ll gobble offensive rebounds and work on developing as a shot blocker in a system that will ask him to do a lot of both. He’s not ready offensively to get minutes on the Rockets, but he’s a solid development piece.

The wild card is McDaniels. He was buried on the bench for the last two seasons after his half year of impressive play for the 76ers, and he’s at a crossroads this year. He has outstanding athleticism, and he’s a playmaker on defense. But he hasn’t refined his game well to this point, and didn’t exactly prove he was deserving of extended minutes last year. Will a new coaching staff help him break through? That remains to be seen.

The Rockets have consistently blended a veteran core with several young talents over the past four years, and they have several players who could take a step in development this year. While these players aren’t integral to their 2016-17 fortunes, the continued development of Dekker, Harrell, McDaniels, and Onuaku could be key to continuing to have an effective core around James Harden.