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From the @StephenCurry30 guide to basketball. The latest with @mocapanalytics & @Wittnessed http://t.co/Tg9P365oUQ pic.twitter.com/uD6tmIi7mw
— Doc Eslinger (@docsheadgames) May 3, 2014
Attention Los Angeles: There is an intense psychological study happening right now. And its power is becoming more potent daily. We have the undeniable fortune of witnessing it first hand; not with one team but two.
The Los Angeles Lakers are in the midst of forming a cohesive unit under the guidance of a new coach in Mike Brown. Gradually, and with the help of one of the best home records in basketball (19-3 as of Friday afternoon), the Lakers have earned the second best record in the western conference and currently have a hold on the No. 3 playoff spot.
Meanwhile, the Lakers’ housemates, the Los Angeles Clippers, are unraveling as I write. After a legitimately strong start to the season -- which led to conceivably unfair expectations -- they have lost three in row and are on the verge of slipping even lower in the standings (currently No. 6 in west) after hovering at the top. There is banter of a lost team. The ribbing reeks of things like: Vinny Del Negro has lost the locker room. Chris Paul doesn’t trust his teammates. Why doesn’t Blake Griffin get in the post? Why isn’t DeAndre Jordan playing? None of these statements are surprising. It’s sports. And its professional sports. Players and coaches who make millions of dollars are supposed to win, and when they’re not, they’re supposed to find ways to win. And when they don’t? Fans and media, not to mention players, begin blaming everyone else.
The problem is finger pointing helps nobody. It makes teams turns into a hodgepodge of mixed emotions, hope and happiness gone awry. The Clippers are in a deep, dark hole now. Clipper Nation feels it and, as such, the easy answer, and something perceived to work based on the recent re-resurrection of the New York Knicks, is to say, “Off with the head.” Sure, getting rid of the head coach is simple. After all, with all of the perceived talent on the Clippers -- and the best point guard in the NBA -- there is no way they should be falling to the bottom of the playoff race. But when the pieces are analyzed and the situation spotted with some clarity, perceptions may change.
Down the hallway at Staples, the Lakers’ gold is shining brighter. Maybe Metta World Peace realizes Mike Brown is more than a “stat guy”, as he referred to him several weeks ago. Certainly, there is less weight on Pau Gasol’s frame as he made it past the trade deadline to remain a Laker. Despite the awkward farewell to Derek Fisher, there is a spritely young point guard in Ramon Sessions who has a higher PER (23.8) in his four games than any of his teammates. And let’s face it, Kobe Bryant runs the team. He acknowledges that he is going to keep taking his shots, and he’ll be the go-to guy in the clutch. That’s what he has always worked hard to do and that’s what he, admittedly, is paid to do. But more than the shooting talk, he is the leader. The culture of winning and him being the guy is in place. And this scenario shows itself even more in the extenuating circumstances of there being almost no practice time to formulate a solid system under a new coach.
The Clippers are like any other team in that they, too, had limited training camp time and now have no practice opportunities. But, who is the vocal leader of the locker room? Chris Paul is wonderful on the court: He directs traffic. He reads opponents’ sets and calls out to his teammates what they’re running. He makes it a point to get others involved and find his shot when necessary, frequently in the closing minutes. Blake is a beast, physically, and actions on the court are eye-popping, especially when he is hustling, getting deflections, and diving for loose balls (as he did much more earlier in the season). But the culture of winning doesn’t yet exist for the Clippers. Del Negro was given Paul and, for obvious reasons, has given him the ball. With Billups gone, the Clippers not only lost a gamer, a Finals MVP, and charismatic competitor, they lost belief and cooperation. When they beat the Oklahoma City Thunder in late January, they had major moxy, and not just because of Griffin’s inconceivable slam on Perkins. Billups was on the floor. A pressure relief and pure baller. Lob City was in full effect, 3-pointers were soaking wet, and the folks on the bench were up and dancing. It was a true team, magnified by a 56.2 percent field goal percentage display aided by 28 assists. Fans were literally jumping out of their seats. Heck, I couldn’t help but be one of them.
At the same time, people questioned the Lakers’ system. What are they running? What is the rotation? Can Brown really coach offense? Is Kobe unhappy again?
Linsanity soon introduced itself and all attention turned to the east, particularly when Kobe half joked about who Jeremy Lin even is -- and then lost to the new Knicks as they put together an exciting stretch of team basketball. Soon after, however, New York’s unity altered. Carmelo Anthony and Amare Stoudemire were reintroduced, and unfortunately for Mike D’Antoni, chimed in as figures who confused the team’s newfound equation with Lin as the floor leader. What seemed like an easy route to take (saying goodbye to D’Antoni) has only appeared like the perfect answer as the Knicks have fired off five straight wins, fairly convincingly, under new coach Mike Woodson. The question we all have is: Will it continue?
The honeymoon stage doesn’t last forever. If it did, all coaches who have turned teams into contenders midway through grueling seasons would still have their jobs. Jeff Van Gundy said it best today on 710 ESPN. When he took over the Knicks, they beat the best Bulls’ team ever -- the one that went 72-10 -- handedly. For some reason, a new takeover relaxes players, gives them new hope. It’s the storming phase of psychology, when everything is fresh and exciting and hope has a way of injecting hustle and high-fives into players who once seemed apathetic and aged. But as Van Gundy discovered, it didn’t last for all of eternity, partly because adversity strikes, good opponents adjust and get better as the season goes on, and teams get comfortable.
Think of the psychological formations and transformations of teams like a weightlifting regimen. Starting out, one gets stronger and immediately sees results. Effects can be extreme. Intrinsic motivation is felt in one’s mind and body. Extrinsically, friends and colleagues comment on how good one looks all of a sudden. A new exercise is one’s best friend and makes one feel even better.
And then there is a plateau. After several weeks of hype, it’s not as easy any longer. Building muscle and increasing strength is more difficult. In fact, improvement becomes a struggle. The person has to change something within the routine; otherwise he or she quits. But here is the key point: He doesn’t go out and buy a new flat bench with new weights. That’s like assigning blame to a basketball because it isn’t going through the hoop. He figures out other ways to train, alters routines, talks to himself in a different way, communicates with others about new exercises, and attacks the training from a different angle.
Simply stated, he works through it with what he has available, and if possible, adds another exercise. The Lakers worked through early issues and then added Sessions to make them more powerful. The Clippers started strong, heightened expectations in the beginning, and now have to deal with what they have: A frustrated superstar, a really young but powerful forward, and other players who haven’t been around too much winning and consistency.
Don’t underestimate the significance of winners simply being around a team. Is it a coincidence that when Billups returned from his hiatus of surgery and recuperation this past weekend to sit on the Clippers’ bench at Staples that they won two games? It’s unfortunate he didn’t travel with the team this week on its devastating road trip. Perhaps results would have been different just by his mere presence, one that promotes winning by focusing on the process and attempting to communicate effectively. Del Negro and Paul both turned to Billups for advice on Saturday and Sunday.
Ploughing through mounds of muck can be done, but people have to want to make it happen. Words turn into strong statements. People remember those, whether they are encouraging or dismantling. When teams lose, players don’t want to talk to one another; on the other side, positive team culture permeates and energizes. At the very least, it makes people play hard and provides ambition and engagement.
The study continues this weekend...
"If I would have won one early in my career, maybe I would have never put all the work and the time in that I have over the last 13 years," said Nowitzki as he celebrated the championship that came with his Mavericks' 105-95 win in Game 6 of the Finals. "So this feels amazing."
"It's a team that when you view it from afar, it doesn't look like a physically bruising type team," said coach Rick Carlisle of his Mavericks. "So a lot of people don't think we have the grit and the guts and the mental toughness. This is as mentally tough team I've been around."
"His view of the game is so different, and he's savant-like," Carlisle said. "He's just been a thrill and a privilege to spend time with."
"We just kept playing," Kidd said. "That just shows the character of this team. No matter how old you are, we understood how to play the game, by passing the ball and making sure that we didn't take shots where three or four guys are on you. We just made the extra pass. We didn't care who put the ball in the basket."
“I just think we’re a resilient bunch. This whole series we were down some. This is a win for playing as a team on both ends of the floor,” Nowitzki said. “We never looked as ourselves as soft. We just kept fighting."
In game 5 of the Eastern Conference Finals, the Chicago Bulls led the Miami Heat by 12 with about 3 minutes left in the game.
The Bulls lost. Their average age is about 27 years old.
The Heat, on the other hand, is the oldest team in the NBA with an average age of 30 and some change. Miami is the only team in the league above the 30 year old mean.
In game 5 of the Western Conference Finals, the Oklahoma City Thunder led the Dallas Mavericks by 15 with 5 minutes remaining.
The Thunder lost. Its average is just under 25 years old.
The winning Mavs’ have an average age of about 29 years old. They're the third oldest in the league. (The Lakers are second). When adjusted for playing time, the Mavs become the oldest team, the Heat fourth.
Looking at average NBA experience in years for these teams, the Heat top the group with 8.1 years followed by the Mavericks at 7.3 years. The Bulls are at 5.1 while the fledgling Thunder are at 3.3.
Both conference champions won their series 4-1, and not necessarily by wide margins. The games were super close for most of the quarters. But the Heat and the Mavs closed the games -- and their respective series -- with phenomenal plays, decisions, defense, and overall execution.
The games that ended up being series closing contests -- in disbelief to many -- were prime examples of what age and experience means in the NBA. Historically, teams that win an NBA championship have an average age of at least 28 with just a couple exceptions the last 20 years (the Bulls of 1991 and the Lakers of 2009).
The Heat and the Mavericks are built to win championships. They have firepower. They have superstars. They have experienced players who have been to many a playoff game. They have role players who get excited for their teammates on the court. They’re better on paper when looking at overall weapons. They have sustainability and maturity in them -- and around them -- as a collective unit.
There is no argument that Miami has the personnel -- three all-stars and Olympians synthesized to succeed -- and Chicago has one person in the form of a young superstar still learning how to make himself and everyone around him better (and probably hoping he gets some more teammates who he’ll have an easier time making better).
However, to become a team with a high average age and years of experience, players have to be good enough to stay in the league. And even the players who don’t get into the games (the Heat’s Juwan Howard has hardly seen the floor), are there as true teammates, supporting from the bench, and more importantly, working and teaching and mentoring in practice. What the average fan doesn’t witness is how important those teachings are beyond the 48 minutes of game action.
So, as one may argue face value of average age and compare it with average age adjusted for playing time, it’s very hard to substitute experienced teammates that can pass on vital lessons learned and instruct, player to player, teammate to teammate. Veteran ballers like Miami’s Howard and teammate Zydrunas Ilgauskus. Dallas’ Jason Terry and Shawn Marion. Even Chicago’s Kurt Thomas (who for a couple brief minutes on Thursday looked like Chicago’s savior and series extender with a couple key jump shots). Combine those types of players with the greats of their teams who also have the age-plus-experience-equals-win equation and there exists a solid foundation for success and a mutual understanding of “how to get it done”. To close quarters. To close games. To believe in one another. To push each other in practice.
There is talk of how Miami did not work on offense all that much in the fall. The newest installment of a Big Three, along with its experienced peers, knew the team built to win a championship would have to defend. And defend it has. With quickness and length and buy-in and years of basketball IQ.
Miami has NBA champion and MVP Dwyane Wade as well as another ring bearer in Udonis Haslem.
Dallas has Dirk Nowitzki, an uncanny and prominent closer in his own right who has been through battles (ironically enough, with the Heat in the 2006 Finals), plus so much more in next level leadership.
To have a floor general of Jason Kidd’s stature -- at 38 years old -- who has been to the NBA Finals and enjoyed a stellar -- and what one could call an improving career -- is even more special. Or a 32-year-old Mike Bibby. Even Eddie House, who at 32 has been around winning during his days with the Boston Celtics. It’s noticeable -- he is the first one to cheer on his Heat teammates from the sidelines.
Individual plays are fun. Results from team experience can be even more exciting to watch. Plays are made, especially down the stretch, that take more than just physical ability or athleticism. They are mentally rehearsed, imagined, discussed, analyzed, actively practiced, and integrated. In the best teams, we see a convergence of commitment, trust, communication. and execution. The feel for the game, one’s own and his teammates, keeps the athletically aged spry and, in the case of Dallas and Miami, just damn good.
A tremendous contest awaits. May the best -- or the oldest -- team win.
After Rajon Rondo's dazzling display of leadership and basketball skills -- one that produced another postseason triple-double and big-time W -- he was asked about his team's approach after a disappointing Game 1 in Los Angeles. Citing "mental toughness" midway through the interview, he sounds so sure of the psychological element that helped his team tie the series as it heads back to Boston, that there must be a secret bottle of it -- MT, we'll call it -- somewhere. Perhaps the Celtics training staff concocted it on a day off or had it shipped from Beantown where more awaits on Tuesday.
Often eluded to in pre- and post-game discussions, yet often overlooked in preparation and real-time play because of limited time, ambiguity, or indifference, it's the aspect of the game that the greats hold so dear. Whatever Rondo did to consume it or feel that way, it's best that he holds on to the process.
A few days prior, Rondo's teammate Paul Pierce even conceded his thoughts on the subject, albeit suggesting the untouchable work of his foe-to-be:
"Once you master the mental part of the game, you become a master of the game of basketball," Pierce said. "There's only been one master in basketball ever, and that's Michael Jordan, but Kobe is pretty close."That is a strong statement. One, because it addresses what Kobe has that no other contemporary can claim. Two, because it's a former NBA Finals MVP showing his sincerity all the while aware that he is not at that level himself.
Despite research and debate that may negate that a "hot hand" exists in basketball -- as a player, coach, and sport psych educator -- I do believe in the phenomenon, but not for some existential sake. Rather, for pure basketball sake. Simply knowing that practice and performance sometimes fuse perfectly and allow a player to shine.
Ray Allen was hot in Game 2 of the NBA Finals. But not out of luck. His display cannot be contrived as a series of penny flips. Or a string of randomness.
Allen has the physical and mental aptitude to put together such an exposition -- an awe-inspiring record eight 3-pointers made in the finals -- and tonight he happened to be placed in situations that allowed him to knock the LA lights out. It's understandable that hot hands tend to cool quickly. As players knock down a couple jumpers, their self-efficacy (situational self-confidence) increases. Because of that seemingly advantageous fluctuation, they want the ball and the next shot. They believe they are rolling into the zone. And, more often that not, according to the research, they miss because the degree of difficultly shoots up as quickly as their next attempt.
Unfortunately for them, the next field goal try may be an off-balance jump shot. Or a contested 3-pointer. Or perhaps a fade away from the corner. Or a ridiculous leaner. All things considered, the shot isn't like the first two. If it falls through the net, they really are considered hot. If it misses, end of scorching streak -- just like the classic NBA Jam video game.
Balanced. Comfortable. In the flow of the offense. All ideas that coaches preach. Good shots born of structure and teamwork. Shots that put teammates in positions to rebound. Shots that place the other four companions in good spaces, and shots that are created because of good spacing.
These are the scenarios that Allen discovered himself in. Prime real estate on the ultimate stage. He practiced -- and always does practice -- those shots from those spots hours prior to tip-off. That is his ritual. His pregame habit, bordering on obsessiveness. Warm-up to a point of complete control. Put himself in the right frame of mind and his body in the right moments in time. Get balanced. Become comfortable. Make himself feel good going into the game.
And there he was. Ready. Not in foul trouble. Getting touches. Enjoying the moment. And soon to be in a record-breaking rhythm.
His 3-point attempts were smooth. They came from kick outs and transition opportunities. And quintessential set up situations from the offense. A drive and find. A pull up at the perfect pace. A misdirection and screen. Balanced. Comfortable. In the flow of the offense.
With Allen's conditioning level, shooting mechanics, and belief in doing what he does best, he demonstrated what it means to be hot -- and maintain the heat for a half by replicating the previous shot as best as possible. For a game that changes so rapidly with various defenses being concocted to try and slow the heat source, the variance in Allen's shot selection was minimal. And so he continued to remain balanced, comfortable, and in the flow of the offense.
Doc Rivers knew it. Rajon Rondo knew it. And they delivered the ball to the player who knew it. Simple as that.
Ever since Yang Yang discovered the Steve Nash video and posted an article about the implications of team touches, it's been difficult to NOT notice Nash's knack for multiple -- if not hundreds, even thousands -- of high fives. In the Suns' series clinching game against San Antonio, it seemed like the entire Phoenix franchise greeted each member again and again with myriad handshakes -- too many to count -- and from multiple angles as players formed a spontaneously complex line of people from sideline to midcourt. It looked as if they were supporting each other for a parachute jump from a prop plane ... and really happy about it.
“I really believe that chemistry carries out onto the court,” said Hill, a 15-year N.B.A. veteran. “We know each other, and when you spend time with one another, you know what each other’s about and you hold each other accountable during games. We have a situation where some of the parts are greater than the whole. It’s a special, unique environment.”The cast of characters and their personality factors genuinely found a way to effectively interact, ingredients that substantiate Gentry's idea of team rhythm (again, see Abrams' article). Is it any wonder that one of Grant Hill's college coaches, Johnny Dawkins, hired Dick Davey, who happens to be Nash's former college coach upon the Dukie's head coaching arrival at Stanford? Perhaps it's more than meets the bloodied eye. The toughness factor is a product of cohesiveness that has formed from specific actions throughout the year and even beyond ... and the thousands of high fives happen to serve as adhesives that reinforce remarkable team unity.
I know. It's been a while. But there is something about the NBA Playoffs that pushes the pen and inspires inquiry. Perhaps it's a couple long, long-range Lebron jumpers and an effortless triple-double. Phil's insistence of fortuitous free throws -- followed by Durant's rousing roundball retaliation(s). A KG elbow. Lapses and collapses and relapses. How teams respond ... or just give up games on the road because it's "all about protecting home court." Psychological teasing. Crowd pleasing. A Noah remARK that Cleveland "sucks" and how a new kid will boost the young Bucks (see last segment).
All that and then some. Mainly, it's D-Wade that provokes playoff prowess. After all, he is No. 1 in Finals performances. It's mesmerizing to watch Wade do what he did this past Sunday, even though we may have seen similar sequences from others before his 46-point outburst. The fiery compilation produced a memorable scene of him screaming at his shooting hand.
"We were just having a little conversation," said Wade, who had 19 points in the fourth quarter, including 4 of 4 from the 3-point line. "I was just telling him he was hot."Was it a case of his hot hand? Or more of a hot head (a.k.a. mentally tough mind) -- a strong feeling of confidence that shots will fall -- as in utter enjoyment and efficacious rhythm that draws on zones of optimal functioning or scarcely achieved flow states? A proposed simple explanation from a Caltech Ph.D. conveys the value of confidence, an innermost feeling that can override any sort of statistical analysis or physical fiber:
When you're learning to perform a task for the first time, a "hot hand" type of belief is probably both factually correct (you actually are more likely to get it right if you just got it right a minute ago) and also adaptive (do it right --> more confidence --> do it the same way again, do it wrong --> less confidence --> do something different.)Or maybe there were other factors that allowed Dwyane to wade through the Celtic waters with a one-man cast and pounce when the time -- and feeling -- was right.The basketball players under discussion have skills that are more or less mature; they're not going to get measurably better at shooting over the course of a game. But maybe part of the brain doesn't "know" that. From the point of view of this learning mechanism in the brain, maybe the fact that you just sunk a few baskets indicates that you've learned something new about shooting, so it's time to positively reinforce that learning with a flush of confidence.
While Wade's glossy 46-point output -- the highest of his playoff career -- is hard to look past, particularly the way he single-handedly rallied the Heat at the start of the fourth quarter of a do-or-die game, the Celtics' mental lapses led to their 101-92 loss in Game 4 of their Eastern Conference quarterfinal series Sunday at AmericanAirlines Arena.
The Celtics pack a 3-1 series lead and head back to Boston for Game 5 on Tuesday.
For all their talk about being focused solely on Game 4, the Celtics sure didn't appear poised at the start of Sunday's game. The first quarter featured a slew of ill-advised shots and sloppy passes that handed the Heat a pair of big runs.
... and just catching up on some other mental game mentions ...
Jeff Caplan of ESPNDallas.com:
San Antonio's third-quarter Game 4 annihilation, a complete physical and mental domination of Dallas, will go down as the latest playoff collapse of the Mark Cuban era unless a team that appears mind-blown can regroup and somehow win three in a row.
"It's good, man," Jason Terry said, perhaps trying to convince himself, during Sunday's aftermath. "It's good because when your back's against the wall, you really find out who you are, not only as an individual, but as a team. I know what we have on this team and I know what it's going to take for us to get this job done."
Frances White of BleacherReport.com:Speaking of growing up; Michael Beasley specifically is the one that Wade hopes will take the leap from JV status to Varsity play. Miami's hope of any advancement relies on this gifted athlete's ability to match his mental capacity with his physical tools.
At times he makes it look so easy he can drive effectively with either hand and he can extend the defense with his three point shooting. He even shows some toughness on the boards in spurts. Sadly, the Heat are not looking for spurts they are looking for consistency.
It takes longer for a big man to grow into his game so the Heat will have patience; even though he will be fodder for the big men of the NBA for now.
Kurt Helin of ProBasketballTalk.comLarry Brown has made the statement that he doesn’t know whether his Charlotte Bobcats can actually beat the Orlando Magic. Many in the field of psychology would be appalled if they heard the leader of a group say something that would plant a seed of doubt in his team. Being the underdog in the series, you’d think the coach would try to bolster the confidence of his club.
Why, then, would Brown make a comment like that? My guess is that what Larry Brown said is exactly what he believes - and he’s been around long enough and has had so much success that he feels it would be foolish to try to play mind games or use some other psychological ploy.Skiles, no slouch himself running a team in his 10 years in the league as a player, has worked with Jennings at every step. No, Jennings' game is not much like his teacher's, but their vision on the court is something they share.
Now Skiles is waiting to see what Jennings can do in the playoffs.
When asked what he has seen in Jennings' mental makeup that makes him confident that the playoffs won't be too big for him to handle as a rookie, Skiles paused.
"I didn't say that," Skiles said.
Skiles seemed to be sending a message: show me, kid.
"It's going to be interesting to see how he responds," Skiles said. "I would have no problem believing that Brandon's going to come out and play very well in Game 1. You know, on the other hand, it's a different thing. It's something he's got to go through."
There is a certain mindset that works in the bevy of coaches and psychologists -- makeshift or not -- who preach mental tactics to athletes and subscribe to the significant role of teacher within the ever encompassing position as sport leader. In a role that entails much more than where to sketch an X or etch an O, implore a halftime adjustment, or suggest a substitution, it is but a rudimentary and substantial stack of ingredients that produces the major meal.
The resulting entree is the win. Yet the contents that create it are surely not easy to find.
Chemistry, communication, and cognitive-behavioral cooking. Three of the C's in a course of physical science, social understanding, and psychological cuisine, all meticulously tossed into a bowl that (hopefully) becomes a sought after artifact.
In the 2009 NBA finals, handiwork is at its peak.
Eric Neel is on point when he writes about Laker master Phil Jackson:
I'm thinking this cat has stayed true to his school on this stuff, talking about energy, connectedness, intuition and not being a stranger to the moment as you've imagined it, from the jump, for two decades now. At what point do we stop thinking of him as the eccentric? Will 10 rings do the trick? At what point do we consider the possibility, in earnest, with nary a wink or a nod, that the guy might be on to something?
Well, at this point in the 2009 NBA playoff race, the point position seems to be point production -- otherwise known as scoring at an unprecedented consistency. Through Friday, a dozen players listed as point guards in the league (via espn.com) were averaging 14.7 points or more, with Tony Parker leading the way at a 28.6 clip. It makes no difference that Parker and the next three at the top (Andre Miller, Deron Williams, and Derrick Rose) are now out of the postseason -- the point is, and has been, making more noise in the playoff scoring column than ever before.
The next point guards on the list are Chauncey Billups and Rajon Rondo. Billups is the mature and effective leader of the erratically entertaining Denver Nuggets, and the player behind coach George Karl's understanding that this particular homegrown point means more to his team than anyone. Rondo, of course, is arguably the most critical point in the league now, as he pushes his defending champion Boston Celtics with energy, versatility, will and weekly triple-double digits.
Rondo is averaging 18.3 while Billups is a shade higher at 19.6.
So what? Well, the last point guard to average an exact 19.6 points throughout the playoffs was Jason Kidd. That was in 2002. And he led ALL point guards in scoring that year. Guess how many other points averaged more than 14.7 ppg in Kidd's calling?
Two. The previously mentioned Parker with 15.5, and Darrell Armstrong with 15.3.
Since 2002, at least five point guards have scored at least 14.3 ppg each year in the playoffs, with an average of just under seven players hitting that rate each postseason. Stephon Marbury led the way in 2003 and 2004, with more than a 21 point mean in each of those years, while Steve Nash took over the top spot in 2005 with just under 24 points per contest. Nash was ahead of seven other points during that period, all who scored more than 16 a night. Marbury's mark of 22 ppg in 2003 began a 20+ point production streak by the PG leader. Gilbert Arenas scored a ludicrous 34 a game in 2006 -- albeit in just a few games -- almost double the leading PG in 2001 (Damon Stoudamire)!
2008 saw eight point guards in the high scoring column again, leading to this year's revolutionary 12. The others in the current span are Mo Williams, Aaron Brooks, Rodney Stuckey, Mike Bibby, and Jason Terry. (Remember, these are players categorized as point guards -- they do not necessarily bring the ball up more often than some notable teammates, i.e. Williams on LeBron's Cavs or Terry on Kidd's and J.J. Barea's Mavs).
As I write, Aaron Brooks just dropped in points 28, 29, and 30 on the Lakers in his Houston Rockets' mothers' day romp.
So, with the three aforementioned point guards listed from 2002 and just three others the year prior above the 14.3 mark (Stoudamire, Sam Cassell, and Kidd), the point guard role has morphed into more than that of basic ball distributor, and it's happened at four times the rate. The game today is being led by plentiful point producers, or by lead guards, as some may now refer to them.
And why not? May as well put five out on the floor that can score; seeing how the game is now guard dominated with pace, penetration opportunities, and 3-point emphasis, it's no surprise. Further, the popularity and exposure of basketball at a young age, with year-round playing, AAU, and potentially ridiculous profits, has helped more prospects with guard-like physiques develop. Competition at the guard slot has produced a greater number of smaller and younger players that can flat out score and do everything else required of the extenstion-of-the-coach role.
Depending on who one talks to and what the situation is, Kobe, LeBron, and Dwyane Wade could be considered point guards in their specific offensive systems. The lesson from the pros: keep the ball in the hands of the scorer. If he is able to dribble the ball up the court under pressure, set-up, survey for open teammates, drive to the hole, pull up, and operate out of the pick-and-roll, it all makes sense.
As explained to me by one NBA executive, "Teams are terrified of turnovers, so do everything possible to limit passing."
Point pondered.
Sport psychologists are often called upon to help athletes improve levels of confidence. Specifically, consultants tend to work with a player's self-efficacy, or one's situational self-confidence. Self-efficacy refers to how an athlete feels about himself in certain circumstances, not necessarily his overall feeling in sport. For instance, a basketball player may be extremely confident driving to the hole, yet have lower efficacy on the perimeter (think Derrick Rose).
While trying to make a player more efficacious in situations, psych pros may employ various techniques, namely mastery experiences, performance accomplishments, verbal persuasion, emotional feedback, and, for the purpose of this post, vicarious experiences. Watching Kobe Bryant on Saturday, I couldn't help but think about his development, especially about his growth as a player while modeling (or vicariously improving) via Michael Jordan. Kobe has mentioned that he spent countless hours studying MJ. As a young player, he viewed Jordan's games, analyzed his moves, watched the way he interviewed, and more.
Kobe's performance this weekend only substantiated his study habits. After a dismal performance a couple of days before when he shot line drives, looked flat and fatigued, and didn't muster the showtime energy we are guilty of expecting nightly, Bryant came out fully fueled and focused (I guess the readers are correct in this site's latest poll). Elevating with a smooth stroke, eluding double-teams, and escaping Utah with a key win, Kobe seemed to become his powerful predecessor.
Many have commented on Kobe's striking way of looking like Mike on the court, in the air, even in the press room. But this day, he was him -- from the look in his eyes to the MJ patented fade-away to the intense smirk as it he was thinking, "You can't guard me." What really got me was the arm extension to complete a teammates' slap of a "five" as he strutted to the free throw line. The fluid movement that Michael made cool was eerily transplanted into Kobe's frame. My gosh, is that the old G-O-D in basketball shoes that Larry Bird reflected on after 1986's 63-point explosion, only reincarnated on the west coast?
It was as if Kobe prepared for the game by watching the famous Spike Lee "Double Nickel" staging at MSG or, better yet, threw in a DVD of one of Jordan's breathtaking takedowns of the Jazz in the late 90's. Was Bryant's mind ticking with images of a Mike-licking as he dribbled and sliced and soared and rebounded? Did he recall the long days of dutiful workouts and dreams of greatness as he zoned in on his uncontestable attack? It surely appeared that way, like he was re-creating moves from his mentor's days more than a decade ago. And with each point and masterful display of fundamentals -- yes, fundys combined with his athleticism are what allowed him to look so darn good, as in the ability to create space off a screen or refusal, to ball swing through in his triple-threat, to change direction with perfect footwork off the bounce -- he gained more efficacy, which, in turn, translated to global confidence and Lakerworld domination.
I wonder how Phil Jackson interprets it all...
Derrick Rose's display today was mesmerizing. His play helped brush his Bulls past the hometown Celtics in a game that featured great point guard possessions on each end. Not to be outdone by his champion seasoned opponent, Rajon Rondo, Derrick, quite literally, rose to the occasion in the first NBA playoff game of his career. And it was no doubt a notable one.
Perhaps more impressive than his 36 point, 11 assist effort and perfection from the free throw line was his demeanor. The announcers continued to comment on how calm he looked. It's no surprise. Those that have followed Derrick's impressive rookie campaign and his brief, and highly heralded college year at Memphis, know what he brings to the court -- dazzling quickness, extreme explosiveness, and a sometimes deceiving, high octane game.
In psychological terms, Rose's self-regulation capacity could be termed efficient and effective. The lay fan may infer his ability to stay in control from his "game face", the outwardly expression one notices on an athlete, especially in basketball where close-ups are as normal as a Bulls' pick and roll. No studies come to mind that substantiate what a more effective game face is, intriguing as it may be. Is it best remain mostly dead pan during the action? Do more elite athletes show limited emotion? Except for his one second of flailing frustration when he picked up his sixth foul, it was if Rose had been through the game a million times. Maybe he had in his mind? In fact, during one timeout when the players go and chill in their seats as the coaches convene on court to discuss adjustments, the rookie PG looked so tranquil that he could take a power nap.
In Rose's case, his calmness shows in interviews as well. Nancy Lieberman was only able to get a quick peek of his smile during her post-game interrogation, posing the question to Derrick whether he knew the legendary company he was in when it came to his stat-stuffing performance at the Garden. An honest "no" with some pearly whites, and it was right back to his all business-like appearance.
His outrageously excitable adversary, Kevin Garnett, unfortunately couldn't compete due to his nagging knee problem. In fact, KG's game face even for this game, one in which he wasn't able to come full force, was so intense that he wasn't able to parade on the bench in the second half. He felt he was a distraction to his teammates, as Lieberman reported in the third quarter. Though his peers wanted him by their side, he wasn't able to calm himself to a level where he could cheer and coach and support from the sideline. Huh... Maybe Bill Simmons' claim was accurate last year, inferring that the KG intensity was not an advantage, as it is something that cannot get any higher for fear of eruption -- nor lower itself to a controllable degree.
Imagine Derrick Rose playing with Kevin Garnett's emotional volume, writhing in facially wrinkled pain and blurting out swears to everyone, or nobody depending on one's interpretation, on every great play? From game face to event explosion.
What is best for performance? Whichever works, especially if it fits with the position, role, and personalities of the team. Both are entertaining. Both are effective. Though Rose's game face doesn't change, his gears sure do. KG rolls at one speed, over the typical limit in most cases. The only thing that could catch him this year was an actual part of himself. Darn. It would be tantalizing to see these two leaders, two game faces, go at it for an entire series.
There was no hesitation in his voice when asked what the strongest part of his game is. He replied with the utmost confidence and made it known to the world, as if there is no chance anyone can crack the unique bond between his unearthly physical prowess and cognitive superiority. Lebron James and his mental game are dynamic, and he defines both brain and brawn in ways that those before him have not even dreamed -- meaning, what 6'9" player do you know that can drive, dunk, dish, and defend like that? On 60 Minutes last night, the court King explained:
"The way I approach the game mentally. I think, team first. It allows me to succeed, it allows my team to succeed. Because I'm always thinking about, 'How can I help my teammates become better?' I've always approached the game that way, ever since, I mean, I was a kid."Seems as if he does a gift, as he personally advertised. He said he never got into trouble as a kid. He stayed on the right path. He found security and refuge inside the gym. He developed a mindfulness from his mother and his moving around, one that allows him to this day to pay attention to details, to support those around him, to take care of those closest to him. His maturity is quite creepy, considering he is 24 years young and an unprecedented phenomenon.
Elite scientists are well-rounded... I like to believe this, knowing that my basketball players and other student-athletes at Caltech are talented in a number of areas. It's math and science first and basketball (hopefully) a close second. And many are expert musicians and artists as well:
"Some of the best scientists recommend looking for breadth of skills and talents in a variety of endeavors beyond the sciences.Leading and listening are skills. And being able to change one's mind is as well. Malcolm Gladwell explains.In two previous posts, we argue that training in the arts benefits scientists in a variety of different ways. The best scientists are much more likely to be artists, musicians, actors, craftsmen, and writers than are typical scientists, or even the general public. Scientists draw skills, knowledge, processes, concepts, and even inspiration from their non-scientific avocations. Many are well aware of these advantages."
"They’re so obsessed with preparing for the future that they can’t enjoy the present, and they end up looking back sadly on all their lost opportunities for fun."So, players DO think during the game. But not too much. And sometimes not at all. But then a little bit to help them later. Actually, it's all about having a really quick mind... which is an effect of practicing and playing and understanding the situations that may present themselves. Vince Carter summarizes:
"It’s all about memory through repetition and memory throughout the course of the game."In-depth statistical analysis of the NCAA and NIT tourneys.
"I want to know Wade's percentages on contested, wide-open and clock-saving threes. I want to know how many uncontested jumpers LeBron creates for teammates. I want "mega-assists" (passes that create a layup or a dunk) and "half-assists" (for each made foul shot). I want "unforced turnovers," like in tennis (Tony Allen would be Wilt Chamberlain in this category), and "nitty-gritties" (some combination of charges taken, deflections, balls saved from going out of bounds and rebounds tipped to teammates). I want "Unselds" (a long outlet pass that leads to an assist for a layup or a dunk) and "Russells" (a blocked shot directed to a teammate)."Basketball instituted a 3-point line, a shot clock, replay, and a host of other changes as player development made the game too easy. Now, how about an adjustment in Scrabble?!
Just getting back from the third annual Sloan Sports Analytics Conference held at MIT. On the day of the Institute’s men’s basketball team’s historical run into the second round of the DIII NCAA Tournament (more on that later), there was quite a lineup to view inside the intentionally contorted design known as the Stata Center.
For a college basketball coach with an eye for education (and by the looks of the conference list, the sole head coach in attendance), the schedule was quite sensational – a highly anticipated hodgepodge of intellects and athletic aficionados. Always looking beyond basic basketball strategy to fit into personal hoops program philosophy, the panels provided content on psychological research in sport, techniques to utilize statistics that go far beyond basic box scores, and a dearth of hot discussions – many of which were astutely entertaining – from fans’ roles to front office finances to the fortunes of hockey fights.
Jeff Van Gundy mixed in noteworthy, nutty comments with invigorating insight. Marc Cuban played a subdued self, and displayed impressive statistic analytic talk. Daryl Morey paced dialogue with subtle promotion of the Rockets’ reverie. Sonny Vaccaro passionately pleaded for a new look age; specifically, a hopeful time when there is no minimum age limit for NBA players and NCAA student-athletes are able to reap rewards in the form of stipends. Dean Oliver explained, ever so slightly, that everything in basketball is measurable, albeit with enough minds and material. Armond Hill preached the importance of professional leaders and conversed of a commitment to team chemistry – characteristics that allowed the Celtics to clinch last season’s title.
From NBA reporters to ESPN writers to top executives to pro sport’s statistical gurus, this was certainly the place to be for folks searching for numbers and names that go beyond the typical terms we hear and read on a daily basis. The data only substantiated my thoughts about community involvement, competitive practices, group cohesion, creative coaching methods, and countless hours of statistical analysis based on video breakdown and play-by-play. Being crunched into one venue with all of this information and a variety of individuals was very inspiring.
In my experience, one of the most trendy items to cover in the preseason is the topic of goals. I do not know the percentage of coaches that ask their players and teams to set them, but I would venture to say goal setting is one of the strongest correlated variables in sports preparation. Some come up with goals the right way, while for others, creating realistic challenges is quite a conundrum.
Sport psychology literature warrants that goal setting is a very effective performance technique, particularly when goals are specific, measurable, reachable, and process oriented. Many people, though, do not know how to lay out the laws, nor stick with them, throughout the course of a lengthy season -- even a drawn-out week. More often than not, I have worked with an athlete who attempted (or was forced) to write down his goals, submit them to his coach, and then forgot what he wrote because he never saw the list again. Or it was not reflected on or reviewed in a structured manner. Sound familiar to anyone?
Goals are good. They help to motivate. They can keep one focused. They influence one's confidence -- hopefully in a good way. They may even be good for team building if discussed, criticized, and reworked among peers, coaches, or teammates.
And if they are personal but can still aid the team in its overall philosophy, then being able to construct goals is a true asset -- even a talent. Muss cited Andrew Bynum's goal to get 20 and 10 each game this season. Nice, though Coach Jackson doesn't believe the 20 can happen within his system. I wonder if Phil told his young big his thoughts or if Bynum had to read about them as we did? And I wonder if the budding star explained to his coach why he thought he was going to average an astounding double-double? Did he actually plan his outcome goals with performance goals this past summer? Was there time to pre-meditate before presenting a potentially enlightening moment to his philosophical coach? Hoopscoach reports Michael Curry sacrificed free time to stay in prime shape and work on his game consistently in order to prove to himself and others that he deserved what he dreamed. I hope Bynum put in the mental and physical work, too.
A player and a coach can talk the talk. But each has to write the talk (and have support provided along the way). At the very least, structure the talk that leads to the walk... otherwise, the goals are empty -- as the hoops will be without any follow through.
Comparisons are natural. People size up people they like, they don't like, they want to like, they want not to like...and those that are like them or not like them or they want to be like them...ugh. Critics and fans love to analyze past and present athletes with the "who is greater?" dilemma.
Regardless of the motivation, I like the insight Michael Jordan provides about Kobe Bryant's development as the most complete basketball player in the world. To become the best (MJ talks about his philosophy in the sidebar video ->), athletes take aspects of other people's games and apply those characteristics and skills to their own. It's an equation of observational learning, modeling, vicarious skill building, and dedicated application.
Further, the talk of mental toughness is an exceptional truth that embeds the star as it hovers the basketball universe. Lindy's Pro Basketball 2008-09 has the story via BallerBlogger and 20 Second Timeout:
...it becomes quickly obvious that Jordan respects Bryant, without even a hint of condescension. After all, Jordan respects anyone who does the work, who has the mental toughness, to climb the heights. Bryant's done the work and displayed the toughness...
...Winter has repeatedly emphasized that Scottie Pippen's role in the success of the Bulls cannot be overestimated; on the flip side, Winter and West both criticized the lack of mental toughness of Bryant's current supporting cast, a weakness that became glaringly apparent during the 2008 NBA Finals. "The Lakers just are not mentally tough"...
Winning in the NBA more often has to do with psychological qualities than physical ones. Veteran coaches and players know that the margin of difference comes more than anything else from superior mental toughness. Quality players on great teams know how to win, how to finish a game, how to block out a hostile crowd on the road; they speak of the ability of great teams to bend the will of lesser teams to their own. If these phrases sound to the outside world like clichés, within the league they have achieved the status of gospel. In a season as long as the NBA's, where one game runs into the next, where mental fatigue is often greater than physical fatigue, what sets the great players apart is a capacity, in the dogs days of February, on the road, when their bodies ache, to see a game against a lesser opponent as being important and to bring a high level of preparedness to it. Greatness in the NBA does not just require great skill, it demands the ability to go out and play hard night after night, and the ability to inspire one's teammates to play hard as well. That was what set players such as Bird, Johnson, and Thomas apart -- not only their fierce will but its effect on the their teammates. By 1990, the Bulls and the Pistons looked about even; in fact, if anything, in terms of pure talent, the Bulls looked superior. But so far, the Pistons owned the Bulls because they managed to get inside the heads of the Chicago players.
The one thing a championship-level team liked least to do was to give off any sense of vulnerability to a contender, particularly one that imagined its fortunes on the ascent. And so issues of mental toughness were critical: Were you mentally strong enough to expose the weaknesses of a rival team and emphasize to that team its own weaknesses before that team exposed your own vulnerabilities?
Couldn't pass this up...
Many times, players complain about "no calls" in practice. They say out of frustration, "In a game, that's a foul!" -- in an attempt to remind coaches to call fouls during drills or scrimmages. However, in a real game, players may not be able to finish because they aren't used to getting hacked -- or they aren't mentally tough enough to get through the hammering. Or, it's just plain immoral to let the fouling go.
So, take the angle of Adrian Dantley and his training tips, courtesy of a book from 1987, via 20 Second Timeout:
Playing underneath is tough, no question about it. You have to be willing to get fouled and take a beating. I prepare myself for this in the summer by playing with friends, working especially on my moves under the basket. We'll often play half-court for four or five baskets, and allow grabbing and holding when a player goes to the basket. Other times we'll decide to play the entire game without calling fouls. By playing like this, I'm able to concentrate on making my offensive move and following through with my shot even though I'm being pushed and shoved while I'm doing it. It often gets like that or even rougher when you play underneath in the NBA.
The recent SLAM post on Steve Nash and Musselman's reminder about great point guards caused me to recall an unforgettable performance. I happened to be at the playoff game in 2005 when Steve Nash put on a dazzling display, willing his Phoenix Suns to an overtime thriller against the Mavericks in Dallas. He was one rebound shy of a triple-double and dropped 39 points on his old team. He also dished out a dozen dimes and drilled five 3-pointers (see official box score).
What was, and is, most impressive about the former league M.V.P. is his mental and physical conditioning. He consistently plays at an exciting pace, from a fan's perspective and a teammate's point of view. His capacity to perform at Nashspeed, both on the court and in his mind, is what makes him special. He can anticipate action as good as anyone -- and better than most -- and possesses uncanny instincts, characteristics that allow him to create and finish plays with impeccable timing and draw-dropping reactions.
It is important to note that he was not born with Nashspeed; rather, he became a student of the game. Nash understands that in his role of team leader and point guard, it is crucial to be able to relate to other people:
At Santa Clara University, Nash studied sociology, which - at first - was a way to avoid classes he thought he would dislike. However, Nash says he grew to enjoy his studies because the subject fueled his interests in psychology and people. "I thought sociology was very educational, if not practical in a career sense."Further, to be able to play fast, his mind has to tick with extraordinary kick. His mental imagery abilities are most likely higher than other players', as previous studies have shown. Nash understands that his mental work was as significant as his physical practice:
Nash spent many hours perfecting his talent. He videotaped college and NBA basketball games so he could "watch the players' moves over and over, and then try to do them myself." Nash thinks the visualization techniques and mental agility so useful in sports will soon be more recognized as crucial skills for all aspects of life.Nash's conditioning gives him an advantage, but more importantly, supplies him with steadfast confidence. In the past, he has not had to worry about staying in shape because he works on his fitness levels year-round. His love for soccer helps him maintain his form and his understanding of how to develop has helped him get to the top. Perhaps even more impressive is his ability to communicate and speak about his mindset. The 2007 Charlie Rose interview demonstrates Nash's excellence, as an athlete and an analyst.
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