Great success in the NBA is almost always met with a flurry of willing copycats. The league’s cycle of title winners makes imitation incredibly alluring; with so many NBA champions winning it all through similar blueprints, the secret of the championship is democratized. Coaches and general managers across the league are given full view of what works, and those looking to emulate the NBA’s best teams are simply left to their own devices in terms of executing a known plan. I don’t intend to undersell the importance or difficulty of actually obtaining the right personnel to implement a successful system (after all, netting that superstar player through the draft, trade, or free agency is more than half the battle), but there’s still something to be said about watching the 2000s Spurs or Lakers execute their in-game strategy in plain sight. That fact, coupled with the reality that repeat title-winners have made the entire process at least slightly formulaic, makes the borrowing of strategies and systems a no-brainer.
Teams look to steal actual player components from championship rosters, not merely because of their title-winning experience, but also because they boast a proven skill set that works in a system that can usually be replicated (or at least attempted to be). Even more conspicuously, teams poach assistant coaches away from title-winning clubs — a la the Toronto Raptors’ hiring of Dwane Casey — in the hopes of also snaring their systems. P.J. Carlesimo and Mike Brown were signed for head coaching jobs based off of their success with Gregg Popovich’s defensive system. Kurt Rambis was given rein over the Timberwolves so that he could implement the wildly successful triangle offense. All of such moves are done in an effort to bottle up greatness; pedigreed coaches and players are acquired in an effort to import the successful systems and strategies that empowered them.
Franchises such as the Spurs and Lakers provide the NBA’s models. Through them, other teams can envision their own future successes; they can imagine a world of paired superstars (or a trio of them, in the post-Celtics, post-Heat era), or of a suffocating team defense. They see a basic structure that could eventually accommodate their team, even if the likes of Tim Duncan or Kobe Bryant aren’t at the center. Even the same is true for one-time champs like the Pistons, Celtics, or Heat; the way that those particular rosters coalesced is a real, achievable possibility for the NBA’s also-rans. They can look to the way the Celtics jumped from a 24-58 record in one season to NBA champions in the next, and use that tale as a basis for hope. The mystique of the NBA model is its attainability; every team is just a player or two away from really making some noise. Just look at [team x].
The Mavericks could very well be the first team in the modern era to truly buck the modeling trend. They are a singularity; try as any owner, general manager, or coach might, and they still wouldn’t be able to capture what makes this particularly weird franchise so great. Other franchises could put the same diligence into scouting, analytics, and the details of player acquisition in general, but it would be almost impossible for another franchise to emulate the Mavs based on two specific elements of their formula: Dirk Nowitzki and Mark Cuban.
Nowitzki isn’t just a highly successful player, but one without precedent nor successor. There is no “next Dirk Nowitzki,” because even as Dirk enters his 14th NBA season, he remains completely baffling as a player. He simply shouldn’t be as successful as he is; Nowitzki benefits from posting up and getting to the free throw line, but he still makes a living based on bucking the odds — and the efficiency numbers — from mid-range. He thrives by accomplishing what shouldn’t be possible, and yet here we are, and here Dirk is, standing as one of the greatest the game has ever seen. The Mavericks create on offense with only one true star, entirely because of Nowitzki’s weird skill set. This type of construction just wouldn’t be possible around most any other player in the NBA; there are a select few who are objectively better NBA players than Nowitzki, but I’m not sure any could anchor an offense in the same way. Thus, another team reimagining itself with the Mavs in mind misses the point. It only works — and worked — because of Dirk, and unless there’s a way to manufacture superstars with not only Nowitzki’s elite production but also his unique ability to tilt and exploit defenses, looking to Dallas’ offense as a model is a misguided endeavor.
Yet even more unique than Nowitzki may be Cuban, an owner willing to pay his way out of mistakes in order to maximize the window that the talent provides. Cuban and Donnie Nelson have been relentless tinkerers over the years, and have employed coaches who shared their love for adjustments. Donnie Nelson, Avery Johnson, and Rick Carlisle have never been afraid to fiddle with the starting lineup or the entire rotation, a floor-level embodiment of the entire franchise’s approach over the last decade-plus.
Nowitzki is the star, and around him were positioned whichever pieces were thought to fit. Some exceeded their usefulness, others were proven to be redundant. Some took contracts elsewhere, and some were brought in on a gamble. Regardless, Cuban and Nelson kept shuffling until they found a formula that fit; you could see the basis of it in the 2005 playoffs, and that core retained its shape until 2008. Then, the duo again rebooted the roster, opting to trade for Jason Kidd (at great cost), sign Shawn Marion (for nearly $40 million), acquire Tyson Chandler (who has a horribly inconvenient injury history and was free to bolt at season’s end), overpay Brendan Haywood (for depth’s sake), and bring in a ball-stopper in Caron Butler. As a result of employing so many B-level players (in addition to Nowitzki and Jason Terry, who were already on the roster), the Mavericks didn’t just exceed the luxury tax line — they laughed at it. Cuban has made plenty of minor cost-cutting moves throughout the years, but rarely have they ever come in conflict with the team’s ability to compete at an elite level.
Save for James Dolan, no owner can be considered Cuban’s equal in terms of his willingness to spend. Of course, what separates Cuban from a punchline owner like Dolan is the payoff for his relentlessness; Cuban has put intelligent decision-makers in positions of power, is as informed as any owner in the league, and makes an effort to keep the Mavs in the know via player and lineup data. He’s willing to open his wallet if need be, but only for moves that make sense; he doesn’t acquire talent for his team, but pieces that fit together in an attempt to form that elusive, championship-worthy whole. It didn’t always work out, but that didn’t stop Cuban from trying — even as the Mavs raked up an astounding bill in their pursuit of a title.
The NBA has plenty of great owners and ownership groups, but none with Cuban’s deep pockets, undying passion for his team, commitment to making informed decisions, and willingness to spend. Most teams in the league couldn’t afford to acquire talent in the same way the Mavs did, which makes the structure of the roster — one true star surrounded by a flurry of quasi-stars — that much more difficult to replicate. It’s that intersection between two truly unique individuals that makes Dallas an unattainable model; that which Dallas has built depends so heavily on an impossibility (Nowitzki’s astounding success) and an improbability (an exceedingly wealthy man who sees reason to part with that wealth for the team’s gain, to almost no limit) that any other franchise would be insane to even attempt it.
Regardless of the specific events that will unfold in the coming months, Rudy Fernandez’s Mavericks future was always to be dictated on his terms. Dallas would offer him a system that suited his strengths and the opportunity to play alongside other talented players who could make it easier to find that open three or spring backdoor for an alley-oop. Fernandez would play a season, and then free agency would offer him an out. He could take it or choose to stay with the Mavs, but regardless of his actual choice, the power would be his within a year’s time.
The lockout has apparently sped up that process, as Fernandez has reportedly agreed to a four-year deal with Real Madrid, one that would essentially guarantee that Fernandez will leave the Mavs at the conclusion of the 2011-2012 season. Reports vary as to whether the deal is indeed set in stone, but in a way the consummation of an actual contract is somewhat arbitrary; it appears Fernandez will be gone from Dallas one way or another at season’s end, whether on this reported deal or another one. The will to leave exists irrelevant of whether a handshake has been made or a name signed on the dotted line. Fernandez may end up playing games for the Mavs this season, but in effect, he’s already gone.
As such, it’s worth considering whether plugging him into the lineup as a starter (and committing the minutes that usually accompany such a role) is really a venture worthy of the team’s investment. Fernandez would provide a nice complement to the preexisting starting core in theory, but he’d have to be brought up to speed on the fly in what would almost certainly be an abbreviated season. Fernandez is talented, but would the Mavs feel comfortable with him in a prominent, starting role after 50 or so games without the benefit of off-season preparation or, likely, a training camp? Fernandez is a Maverick, and his skills should be utilized by the team to the fullest extent that they can be, but the role that would allow for such maximization remains in question, even if his positional disposition would seem to fill a very convenient SG-shaped hole in the starting five.
Maybe Fernandez as starter was just too easy; acquiring an experienced player that fits a positional need was a sensible move for Dallas, so much so that apparently something had to go wrong. The Mavs, however, are not without their fallback plans, even if the two most promising of which are reliant on free agency. Lockout life places greater value in the familiar, and though it would undoubtedly take some work (and some cash) to retain their wing FAs, the Mavs have all the reason in the world to look inward — as much as non-contracted, soon-to-be-free-agent personnel constitutes “inward” — to solve whatever problems exist with their SG rotation.
Re-signing DeShawn Stevenson remains an option, and one supported by Jason Terry and Donnie Nelson at that. Stevenson isn’t an ideal choice, but he is (1) an incredibly solid perimeter defender who is still somehow underrated despite his efforts on the league’s biggest stage against its biggest stars, (2) already familiar with Dallas’ system on both ends of the floor, and (3) likely to come at a reasonable price. That said, he also acted as a sandbag on the starting lineup during the 2011 postseason, despite his successes; according to BasketballValue, the Kidd-Stevenson-Marion-Nowitzki-Chandler lineup posted an adjusted plus-minus of -5.21 in the postseason. That should make Fernandez a preferred choice even as a mercenary, but there is some virtue in electing to roll with the three-point-shooting devil you know.
But the Mavs also have the benefit of knowing a far superior candidate to fill a chunk of minutes in the backcourt next season, despite the fact that he technically didn’t log a single minute at SG during the 2010-2011 campaign. Caron Butler is a very talented, effective wing player. He knows the Mavericks organization, knows Rick Carlisle’s system, and has shown that he can thrive as a part of both of those institutions. He’s an effective perimeter defender and a versatile offensive weapon. He’s also labeled a small forward, and also not under contract with the Mavs at present. Both of those problems can be remedied if the team wills it so, and if Dallas truly has designs to improve in the coming season, they’ll do just that.
Butler remains the Mavericks’ best opportunity for immediate improvement, and that doesn’t change because of some perceived positional hiccup. It’s true that he didn’t play any time at the 2 de jure, but the positional designations used by 82games.com (and other resources that offer lineup derived positional data) are often restricted to offensive lineups. From that perspective, what exactly did DeShawn Stevenson (or Terry, Beaubois, Sasha Pavlovic, or any other player who suited up for the Mavs at the 2) do last season that Butler could not? As a sold ball-handler, a 43 percent three-point shooter, and an effective slasher, there’s nothing that prevents Butler from fulfilling any offensive role given to him. Add on the fact that the wing positions in the Mavs’ offensive system allow for a wide range of skill sets (J.J. Barea and DeShawn Stevenson both played the 2, Shawn Marion and Peja Stojakovic both played the 3), and it’s hard to find a logical reason for Butler to be pigeon-holed in one position or another.
As far as defense is concerned, all that’s required is a quick trip through Synergy’s play database to discount any claims of Butler’s positional limitations. Among those that Butler checked effectively: Manu Ginobili, Dwyane Wade, Chauncey Billups, Eric Gordon, Monta Ellis, O.J. Mayo, J.R. Smith, Arron Afflalo, John Salmons, Jason Richardson, J.J. Redick, Mike Miller, Wesley Matthews, the Mavs’ own Rudy Fernandez, Gary Neal, Chris Douglas-Roberts, Shane Battier, Thabo Sefolosha, Richard Hamilton, and Kyle Korver. Saying that 3s defend 3s in today’s NBA is a gross oversimplification; despite never playing a single minute as a 2-guard, Butler still managed to defend all of the aforementioned 2s and 1s as a product of defensive cross-matching and in-game switches. Nowhere are positional designations more arbitrary than on the wings, where pairs of similarly skilled players swing between slotted positions on a whim.
Reducing Butler (or any player) to a simple positional designation ignores the more specific reasoning underlying NBA compatibilities. Butler could work alongside Jason Kidd and Shawn Marion because their skill sets cover tons of ground without much overlap. The same wouldn’t necessarily be true of any other group of perimeter players, even if their traditional designations dictate it to be so. What matters — as has and will always be the case — are consistent skills and contributions. So long as a team can produce some total amalgamation of necessary skills (requisite shooters, shot creation, rebounding, etc.) and the defense can contort itself into some means of effectiveness, everything else is merely nomenclature for the sake of nomenclature.
NBA TV’s a bit light on programming these days, but if they’re looking to fill time slots deep into the lockout, they should seriously consider launching/re-launching a movie review spectacular featuring co-hosts Popeye Jones and Tony Dumas:
Gosh darn it if you don’t find Popeye’s optimistic ratings endearing.
The Texas Legends are pushing hard for former Tennessee head coach Bruce Pearl to succeed Nancy Lieberman in Frisco, and are reportedly willing to make Pearl the highest-paid coach in the D-League’s history in order to woo him. That may seem a bit odd considering the NBA’s current financial situation and the pretty measly salaries afforded to the D-League’s players, but it’s understandable why Donnie Nelson covets Pearl; he’s precisely the kind of talented, charismatic leader who can make the Legends a better team while also turning their games into an event. Like it or not, the D-League still needs to be sold, and Pearl — with his unique sartorial choices and natural panache — could be just the guy to sell a ketchup popsicle to a woman in white gloves.
Yes, the reported $500k salary package is ridiculous, and there are undoubtedly other capable coaches who could take over the Legends for a much more affordable cost. But Pearl has become Nelson’s very public preference, and the fact that the two hosted a press conference together without any official announcement to be made tells us plenty about the motivations of this particular courtship. Nelson — and the Legends — want to make a splash, and it’s hard to to find fault in that motivation. Pearl could conceivably attract a lot of attention to the Legends organization, and really, he already has. Whether that attention can be converted into actual profit remains to be seen, but Pearl’s involvement with the Legends would certainly make the franchise more attractive to prospective sponsors and fans.
Pearl is a talented coach; he wouldn’t be considered for the position if he were strictly a showman. Yet the advantages gained from Pearl’s potential involvement with the Legends would seem to help the actual basketball product more indirectly than they do directly. The interest, revenue, and branding gained by his possible hire could pay off immediately and even carry over into the next few seasons, and subsequently feed into the overall infrastructure of the team as a result. Of course, the gains from Pearl’s potential hiring could just as easily fail to cover even the costs of his salary alone. Pearl would fit in well as a D-League coach, but he’ll have to do more than that. In order to legitimately justify this kind of expenditure, Pearl would have to be both coach and commodity, and take the Legends brand much significantly further in the coming year than it was able to during the team’s inaugural season.
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