Clint Capela is one of this season’s biggest breakout stars

The bulky plastic Clint Capela wore looked uncomfortable and felt much worse. A Steven Adams elbow broke Capela’s face on Christmas Day; his gift was two missed games and the mask he wore against the Lakers on Dec. 31.

The foam padding beneath the clear outer layer was meant to protect him but all it did was make things difficult. “It was very uncomfortable. Hard to move or breathe,” Capela would admit days later. “I couldn’t even blow my nose,” he adds with innocent candor.

Capela’s season has been a revelation but, against the Lakers, he had one of his worst performances, totalling just seven points and as many rebounds in 32 minutes. When the team traveled to Orlando to start the New Year, Capela revealed the mask stayed behind in Houston. “No, sir,” he states flatly. “I’m not wearing that anymore.”

They escaped with an overtime victory against Los Angeles but left far from unscathed, losing James Harden to a hamstring injury. Capela would need to take on a bigger role to help the Rockets stay among the top teams in the Western Conference. Harden’s injury makes things difficult but Capela isn’t afraid of the challenge. “It’s a good chance for the rest of the team to get better,” he says. “We all have to step up and do more.” That night against Orlando, Capela did so with a large stride, chipping in 21 points and 8 rebounds in an 18-point drubbing over the reeling Magic.

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That Capela plays such an enormous role in Houston’s current and future success qualifies among the most surprising aspects of this season. For one, there’s no denying that the team’s structure is built on the beard-shaped foundation of what Harden does so uniquely well. In his absence, the bulk of running the team has fallen onto Chris Paul’s squat shoulders.

There’s also the perception of Houston as a collection of indiscriminate gunners. In contrast to San Antonio’s dry, proven approach or the ho-hum drudgery of Golden State mostly competing against themselves on any given night, the Rockets seem opportunistic and haphazard. They led the league in 3-point attempts last year, are currently doing so by a wide margin, and there’s no reason to think that trend won’t continue beyond this season.

At least part of that image, however limited and ultimately false, is sustained by head coach Mike D’Antoni. In describing his team’s scoring prowess, D’Antoni casually downplays his part in making it work, the syrup of his West Virginia drawl thickening as he credits his players for turning his chopped-liver schemes into filet mignon. The effect works somewhat couninterutively, belying the accomplishments of the coach, his system and the players who thrive in it. D’Antoni has struck gold in Phoenix and Houston but been buried alive in Los Angeles and New York. Harden and Co. are both transcendent and faulty. Together, they inhabit the space vacated by Durant when he left Oklahoma City, of a team perpetually teetering on the edge of tantalizing potential and championship success.

Capela stands out conspicuously; by almost any measure. He should not be here, on this team, and thriving. As a scorer, his range has heretofore been very limited (only a handful of his 341 attempts have been from outside the paint) but that’s strictly by design. When drives by teammates draw multiple defenders, Capela’s 6-foot-10 bulk explodes to the rim. His field-goal percentage ranks highest in the league among qualified candidates so shots at the rim — the flip side of D’Antoni’s focus on the perimeter — are virtually guaranteed.

Unlike Harden and Paul, he is a relative unknown, without the burden of past failures to tarnish his image. The duo are at a point in their respective careers where every triumph is reduced to a justification for their lofty status, their shared lack of a title the asterisk that obscures everything else. Meanwhile, Capela’s push for an All-Star berth this season has the feel of a financially-strapped, grassroots campaign. Every basketball nerd’s ballot would include Capela but they would likely be dismissed for being scrawled on the back of a take-out menu.

Moreover, it’s Capela’s journey which is the most implausible. He and his two older brothers would spend most of their childhood as part of welfare orphanages. As his body grew and he had to give up his first love — soccer — the brothers convinced their youngest sibling to give basketball a shot. He’d been playing the sport for only five years before the Rockets selected him at age 20 near the end of the first round of the 2014 NBA Draft, a low-risk gamble that would likely never pay off. Scouts raved about his incredible size and athleticism but were dismayed by his lack of polish. Abstract qualities like attitude and basketball IQ stood out as resolute warnings.

Now, months shy of his 24th birthday, he’s already in his fourth NBA season and has emerged as the improbable “secret weapon” in the Rockets’ quest to dethrone the Warriors. “The NBA was always a goal for me,” says Capela in a deep rumble, “but I never imagined it would be this quick.”

John Lucas was sporting a dull, grey sweatsuit and a slight limp as he walked onto the Amway Center floor before Houston takes on the Magic. Still, the former NBA point guard showed plenty of flash as he whipped passes to the Rockets’ youngest players. When asked about Capela, Lucas beamed brightly and proclaimed with raspy excitement, “That’s my guy!”

Lucas spent five seasons playing for the Rockets and is now the team’s head of player development. He’s tasked with helping Capela maximize his athletic potential and to challenge the conventional thinking that led to those dismissive scouting reports. Like Capela, Lucas sees the responsibility of filling the Harden-sized gap as a shared one. But he also sees Capela as having to score in different ways alongside Paul: “It won’t be so much at the rim,” Lucas hoarsely suggests. In hindsight, Lucas was off in this assessment, mostly because Paul succeeded in mimicking some of what Harden offers. But Capela has shown flashes — a dribble drive here, a spin move there — that justify Lucas’ evaluation of his star pupil.

There are concerns that underscore Capela’s evolution, namely a level of confidence that is rarely found in a 23-year-old expected to continue learning the game exponentially. “He’s getting there,” Lucas says, “He’ll keep getting more comfortable in what he can do.” When describing Capela’s progress, Lucas’ gravelly tone sounds almost fatherly. “He’s grown so much, right in front of our eyes.”

Beyond that, Lucas believes that the surface has merely been scratched when it comes to Capela. “What he does, in his role for us, is to seal the deal for the rest of the team. It’s just more team-oriented.” says Lucas as he leans forward slowly. “I think if he was a guy who got straight looks and plays called for him, he could do more. He’s doing what he does without anything like that. He can do a lot more than what he’s required to do for us to win.”

Envisioning the next step in Capela’s development is an exciting prospect, especially when considering how much he’s grown during his short career. His free-throw rate was an unfathomably wretched 17.4 percent during his rookie season. It doubled the next season and kept improving, now hovering below 60 percent — an underwhelming number but, in this context, practically miraculous. He makes the occasional pass, has cut down on absent-minded fouls. The shots he takes won’t be remembered as aesthetic, but he’s continued to make them at a steadily improving rate. It’s not hard to believe takeout menus will someday be replaced by actual ballots.

And yet, he plays a game almost completely dependent on the strengths of others. An incredible 81 percent of his shots are assisted, the rest are largely putbacks; anything created by Capela is the rare exception. Even Lucas’ paternal musings on Capela don’t quite mesh with D’Antoni’s perspective. When asked if Capela’s role would be impacted by Harden’s absence, the syrupy response was both fair and somewhat contradictory. “No, he’ll just have the same type of chemistry with Chris. Clint’s key to what we do but his role won’t change.”

Not surprisingly, Capela sees a blended perspective. He recognizes a need to keep improving while acknowledging that he’s already capable of more than what he’s typically expected to do. On defense, he focuses on the need to keep improving his communication on the floor and eliminate mistakes even further. Offensively, finding a better balance between being aggressive and, as he says, “playing with a clear head every single time.”

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That balance resonates often in how you perceive Capela. He is different things to different people, limited and yet productive, thriving or merely opportunistic. He might be a key part of Houston’s championship pursuit, or just another role player sharing the floor with far better teammates. But there’s no denying that his journey to the NBA is already as successful as it was improbable and so our perspective doesn’t mean much. Capela doesn’t flinch when confirming what Lucas alluded to, that his confidence has in fact grown since his rookie season, and continues to do so with each game played and every step taken, no matter how small or large you might see it.

If he must contain multitudes, then so be it. He can be like a mask worn in Ancient Greek theater, expressionless but for the light, shadow and your own interpretation to ascribe whatever meaning you see fit.

Just don’t make him wear it.