League Pass Favorites: Lance Stephenson’s Magical Mystery Tour

The Tao of Lance Stephenson is to never be afraid to shoot your shot. The problem is he has a hard time differentiating between “your shot” and “my shot” …and… “that guy’s shot” …and… “that other guy’s shot” …and… “a timeout when you can catch your breath” …and… “you’re on the bench right now so simmer down, dude.” He is a freight train of unbridled confidence and enthusiasm; he is an absolutely beautiful basketball mess.

I once argued that the way for the Pacers to break through their Miami Heat ceiling was to make Paul George into a complimentary scoring piece and heap more offensive responsibility onto Stephenson. I suppose I was imagining something like the Russell Westbrook-George arrangement we’ve seen the Thunder use this year, only it turned out Lance wasn’t quite up to playing the part of Westbrook. He has all the same ferocity and fast-twitch hubris, just without that inner control freak to keep everything pushing towards the right side of utter chaos.

Stephenson has now stacked seasons upon seasons and built something of a basketball career. He is 27 years old and in his eighth season. He is, chronologically, an NBA veteran. And yet he still feels like an utter unknown. Stephenson is probably never going to make a bid for an All-Star selection again, but he undoubtedly has a place in the league. The problem is that we define almost every NBA player by their averages but Stephenson never rests in the in-between. He is peaks and valleys and almost never the middle ground.

Stephenson has not quite been good for the Pacers this season — his per possession counting stats are prodigious, his efficiency, not so much. However, he’s entrenched in a role and no longer appears to be teetering on the edge of falling out of the NBA completely, a vast improvement over where he’s stood for the past two seasons. The thing is, even when he was struggling, Stephenson played basketball in way that was almost separate from the issue of winning and losing. It wasn’t and isn’t ego or shamelessness that keeps him firing up ill-advised jumpers or working to bend passes around defenders at impossible angles.

I’m sure he cares about winning but he doesn’t play basketball to win, he plays basketball because something primal inside of him is growling MOAR BASKETBALL. He treats every possession as an opportunity to satisfy that beast. It isn’t about highlights or glory or backing up his ear-blowing gauntlets. It’s about MOAR. And BASKETBALL. I honestly think once he steps on the court, it doesn’t run much deeper than that.

Next: The Encyclopedia of Modern Moves

I will always watch Lance Stephenson and not just because his minutes are almost always a dichotomous struggle between Shaqtin A’ Fool and SportsCenter’s Top 10. I watch Lance Stephenson because I admire the hunger, especially for something so pure and simple. I firmly believe that the players we find most enthralling are those who represent character traits we do covet but don’t possess. I wish I could approach any endeavor with as much reckless passion as Lance Stephenson. I wish I approached life with the confidence to shoot my shot, and yours too, and also that crazy, magical shot which defies the laws of physics but which I saw in a movie once and would be totally cool to actually make in real life.

I guess the truth is, I watch Lance Stephenson because I don’t know how not to.