21–22 NBA Previews: The Chicago Bulls (#13)
NBA discourse has always paid a lot of lip service to the idea of the “Glue Guy.” Glue Guys are players who provide the connective tissue, so to speak, between the more important, star players on the roster. A good example: Jason Kidd, at age 37, led the 2011 NBA Champion Dallas Mavericks in minutes, but had a minuscule usage rate and, from what I can recall, seemed to do nothing but shoot open 3s and stand at the top of the key making quick swing passes. You could casually watch a 2011 Mavs game and barely notice Jason Kidd was playing, and yet he was absolutely essential to their team.
I bring up 2011 Jason Kidd, specifically, because his outsized importance on that team was important to me at the time. It was important to me mostly because I couldn’t quite parse it. His points basically all came from 3s, but he was only an adequate 3 point shooter. Kidd was always a great defender, but at age 37 it certainly didn’t seem like he was doing anything special on that end. I had to come to terms with the fact that stats weren’t going to tell me what was going on. Even more flummoxing, my own eyes couldn’t tell me what was going on either. I basically had to take it on faith.
And that faith changed the way I watched basketball. It has become my evolving opinion that the most undervalued players in basketball at all levels are players who are great passers. Drilling down into that a little is important. It is true that part of being a great passer is making special passes: think of Nikola Jokić or LeBron James slinging a no-look pass from the mid-post to the weak side corner for an open 3. It is also true, though, that most of being a great passer is just making simple passes quickly. Beyond even that, there is the question of when to pass. The great ones get the calibration right; the great ones are able to quickly suss out when to pass and when to do something else.
This all might seem obvious, but it isn’t. As a Celtics fan, I am keenly aware of the fact that during Al Horford’s three seasons with the team from 2016–2019, there was a huge divide between fans who accepted the fact that Horford was impacting the game in ways that were valuable and fans who looked at his contract, looked at his stats, and couldn’t understand why the fuck he was so important. The reason, at least on offense, was as simple as this: he was an excellent passer at a position where that skill has traditionally been mostly non-existent. He was a center who kept the machine moving. It’s so much more important than we tend to think.
Blah, blah, blah. I’m harping on this because I think it is a really, really big deal that the Bulls picked up Lonzo Ball this offseason. Lonzo, to me, has all-time great Glue Guy potential. In fact, I think he’s so special that he has a chance to become the rare All-Star Glue Guy. In many ways, Lonzo, as he evolves, reminds me of a better version of late-career Kidd. He’s an improving shooter (38% on 3s with a whole bunch of attempts over the past two seasons). Last season, he bumped up his usage rate to over 20% while lowering his turnover rate to a career-best 14.5% (still too high, but that’s okay). He’s a solid and instinctive defender with excellent size for his position. The list goes on.
Most importantly, on a team full of excellent options for shot-creation (DeMar DeRozan, Zach LaVine, Nikola Vučević), Lonzo is a connector. He’s going to do the important work of passing in all its different forms. He’s got the ability to grab a rebound and throw the hit ahead in transition. He makes quick, smart reads in the half-court. He sees the simple stuff and the advanced stuff.
During Lonzo’s one season in college at UCLA, his team had the second best offense in the nation. I remember feeling excited to watch the games, and then being totally baffled by what I saw. Lonzo was the point guard, supposedly, but he seemed to hardly ever have the ball. He didn’t bother bringing the ball up the floor if there was someone open ahead of him. He got off it quickly in the half-court. We’re so used to watching heliocentric guards—James Harden, Damian Lillard, etc.—who are masters at manipulating the defense through an extreme level of control. Lonzo is and was the opposite of that. He understands that control can only get you so far.
What he really understands—or, rather, what his game reveals—is that basketball is a feeling you get. Anyone who has even played in a pickup game before knows that when you play with a good passer, everything just works better. You are open, and suddenly the ball is in your hands. You start to play a little more instinctively and a little less selfishly. You let the ball move. You have faith you’ll get it back.
It’s so simple. The ball in the air moves faster than the player on the floor. Every time the offense throws a pass, they a millisecond of advantage over the defense. If they compound that pass with another quick pass, they gain even more. If they pause and hold it, the advantage is immediately lost. In the obsession to find what works, we tend to push towards what we can control, so we gravitate towards the superstars who have all the advantages they need baked into their games already, but the advantage of great passing is right there for any team that wants it.
I am so excited to watch the Bulls this season. I think Lonzo Ball is exactly what this group of players needs to tie them all together. I have many doubts about the ability of this team to play good enough defense to win when it matters, but I’m willing to be surprised. When the ball moves, special things can happen. Lonzo was the second overall pick in the 2017 draft—ahead of Jayson Tatum—because it seemed like he might be truly special. He’s been mired in nonsense for his whole NBA career so far between the shit-show of the Kobe Bryant Farewell Tour and the atrocious team-building going on in New Orleans over the past couple of seasons. He’s finally in a situation that seems like it could be good. I think he’s got a lot to teach us, and I really hope I’m right.