Tom Thibodeau doesn’t change, and that’s a problem for the Timberwolves
By Kevin Yeung
First off, there’s no good reason for Derrick Rose to be playing in 2018. This would be true even if he was a positive impact player, but he’s been the initiator for a significant amount of off-court drama the past two seasons. And, in the interest of not burying the lede, he is also so very far from a positive impact player by about any measure. What you really have is a broke boy’s Austin Rivers circa 2015: a holder of unearned opportunity off the strength of his coach’s sentimentality. Tyus Jones deserved better.
This fits a familiar narrative: Tom Thibodeau doesn’t change. He sticks to what he believes in, whether that means believing in his favorite guys for 10 to 20 minutes per game too many, or more broadly, believing that what worked in the past will work again. He’s a textbook Old, regarding present mores with a reluctance that sets back the young in his charge.
When the Minnesota Timberwolves hired Thibodeau to fill their coaching vacancy during the 2016 offseason, they hired him to ingrain his principles into a young core that had given up 110.1 points per 100 possessions, 28th in the NBA that year. It made sense. Thibodeau is one of the most transformative figures in the recent NBA — his defensive stylings, as an assistant coach for the Boston Celtics and then the head coach of the Chicago Bulls, changed the course of the league. He collects royalty every time someone waxes poetic on the LeBron-era Miami Heat blitz defense or the grit-and-grind pressure of the Memphis Grizzlies.
Read More: LeBron James can’t afford to leave anything to chance
In two years under Thibodeau, however, the Wolves haven’t turned anything around on defense, allowing 112.0 (last season) and 111.1 (this season) points per 100 possessions. For as much as he changed the NBA, Thibs has also allowed it to pass him by.
The Thibodeau hallmark that disrupted the 2010-ish NBA was known as ‘packing the paint’ or ‘overloading the strong side.’ His teams would shift an additional help defender or two towards the ball to jack up pressure, covering the weak side with a partial zone. Think of this as the anti-Kobe defense: any offense that cleared out for their best guy, whether in isolation, post-up or basic side pick-and-roll, would be swallowed by the extra defender.
We’re far from the Kobe days now. Many things that have grown popular in recent years have grown popular specifically because they counter Thibs’ defense: 3-point shooting, swift team passing and bodies in motion. Guys that would’ve been Kobe ten years ago imitate LeBron now, hoping to draw help and spring a shooter open.
Everybody sampled from Thibodeau’s defense, so everybody had had to figure out how to beat it. It leaves the Wolves exposed. They want to force things baseline and trap the corners, but players very naturally know to reverse the ball to the far side now, maybe work in a wrinkle like an off-ball screen, to find something good. Something like one of the corner 3s that the Wolves give up so often.
All of the other things that Thibodeau likes to point out can be true, too. The Wolves are young, they lack toughness, players like Karl-Anthony Towns and Andrew Wiggins have not materialized their defensive potential. They miss rotations and give up the middle in pick-and-rolls. His starters are also always burnt out, although, oops, that’s his fault too. To his credit, against the Houston Rockets in the playoffs, the Wolves made a conscious effort to stay home on shooters and defend one-on-one. In general, Thibodeau’s coverages aren’t as aggressive as they used to be, which is at least an acknowledgment of change.
The Wolves rely on Taj Gibson, an alum of Thibs’ Bulls who is one of the best and smartest within a hyperactive help scheme, as well as their fourth-ranked offense for a lot. That’s fine. It got them to the playoffs, and Gibson’s positional play fills in gaps behind Towns’ susceptibility to getting pump faked out of his shoes.
It still isn’t hard to push the Wolves to a stress point, and the Rockets are several brain levels ahead of them. Most teams prefer to stay one-on-one now (switching on screens), and the Houston Rockets have designed themselves to win one-on-one (spread the floor, isolate mismatches). Only two other teams in the league isolated more often than James Harden did on his own. In a roundabout way, the Kobe offense works again, but it works with a team of shooters and a big guy on an island in the middle of the floor.
For Thibodeau to think a step ahead of himself still leaves him a step behind everyone else. The NBA leans into the specific elements that beat his defense, and tepid attempts to compromise with change really can’t compare to such a sweeping movement. Playing a more moderate version of his style doesn’t cure its inherent ails. After all of this, we’re still talking about a team that ranked 27th in defense this year.
Next: It doesn't matter who wins 76ers-Celtics, this is about the future
That really isn’t at all an indictment of Thibodeau’s accomplishments from five to ten years ago. He brought ideas that were new and exceptional, until they weren’t. It doesn’t shade his legacy at all — he had the answer to a lot of what was popular then, and forced new things to become popular. Only exceptional Olds can stay ahead of the curve forever. For the rest, it might be time to make way for the youth.