Clippers at Crossroads (Part 1) : Blake Griffin
Once hailed as a savior, Blake Griffin has now become a symbol of everything that’s wrong with this franchise. What went wrong? And what’s in store for this once elusive power forward?
This decade has been breathtaking for the NBA. It has enjoyed its most successful stretch ever since the heydays of Jordan, Barkley, Malone, Isiah and Hakeem at their peaks. There’s more talent in the league, and financially it has never been in better condition. But let’s assume you have been in a coma ever since 2010. The last thing you saw as an NBA fan before going into a coma was:
1. Michael Jordan getting inducted into the Hall of Fame and burning everyone with his “bittersweet” speech
2. Mikhail Prokhorov buying the Nets (and trading five years of mediocrity for five years of basketball hell but you don’t know this because the latter part happens in future)
3. A record 108,713 attendance at the All-Star Game because All-Star games were still fun back then.
4. LeBron James sulking in the 2010 Eastern Conference Semifinals against the Celtics
5. And LeBron James killing professional basketball in Cleveland after his “decision” to join the Miami Heat in the summer of 2010.
That’s it. LeBron ripping the heart out of millions of Cleveland fans and kicking his chance to be the greatest basketball player in the history of the game in the nuts, was the last thing you witnessed and you immediately went into a vegetative state (maybe you are Cleveland fan as that would give you a legitimate reason to pass out after that moment).
So all that you missed was the King choking in his first season at the South Beach, then winning couple of championships (but not five, not six, not seven), Ray Allen hitting (arguably) the most clutch in the history of NBA, Timmy passing the torch to Kawhi, Spurs being Spurs (that is being ridiculously good), Kobe being Kobe (even at the age of 37, which is not a good thing), Dwight transforming from a potential Mosses Malone successor to a locker room cancer, Thunder screwing up a potential dynasty, shooting 30 3-pointers a game turning from hipster to mainstream, Warriors breaking the Bulls 72–10 regular season record (it still sounds surreal), Sacramento and Minnesota still enduring a playoff drought, the fall and the rise of centers, and the rise and rise of Waiters Island. Yup, that’s your NBA so far this decade in less than 200 words. And then there are the Clippers.
To continue your orientation session with this decade’s NBA, if you wanted a quick guide to the “Blake-CP3” era of Clippers, you couldn’t have chosen a better season to do so. This Clippers season is as Clippery as it can get. They started the season showing a lot of promise (just like they did when Paul was moved by Stern to the Clippers in 2011), then injuries happened, and they were kicked out of the playoffs in the first round (basically their story for the last few years). Now, after six years, they posted the worst regular season record since CP3 moved to the Clippers (because the league didn’t want to create a super-team by sending him to the Lakers which sounds such a joke in retrospect) and you wonder what’s in the future for this franchise and its two biggest stars.
I still remember, back in the winter of 2010 when I got my hands on a copy of NBA 2K10. I had a fair idea of the game of basketball but Lakers and Celtics, that’s where the NBA ended for me. So when I ran the game on my (then so cool) PC running on Pentium 4, I was intrigued to find another team with Los Angeles in their name. Maybe it was the oddity in their nomenclature or the surprisingly bland logo — I started my journey in the NBA 2K universe as a member of Los Angeles Clippers.
Initially, like a teenager exploring his puberty, I fumbled around a bit. I threw wayward passes, overpowered or underpowered my jump shots and played defense which will make James Harden and Damian Lillard look like Kawhi Leonard. But the one thing that stood out like Christian Bale’s eye wart in The Dark Knight (try ignoring that next time around) was whenever the ball was in a certain guy’s hand, within eight feet of the rim, he was smashing it through the rim regardless of who and how many stood in his way. It felt like I could hop on his back and conquer the world with him by my side. And that was the beginning of my love for the game of basketball.
So when I tuned in for my first Blake Griffin experience, I was shocked at how scarily similar his style of play was to the video-game. And few minutes into the game I saw this and the world was never the same again for me:
When I saw that dunk, these were the thoughts that raced through my heads in no particular order:
“What is happening?”
“How can a 6’10, 250 pounds guy get up so high?”
“Does he belong to the same species?”
“What’s next? Is he going to touch the Staples Center rafters and dunk on the whole team?”
“And why didn’t this savior enter my life at an earlier time point?”
Nobody apart from Michael Jordan, who with his gorgeous sneakers, attractive posters, and a game tailor-made for SportsCenter era, has arrived at a better point in the NBA than Blake Griffin. His play was the right fit for the NBA when social media was taking off and satisfied the current generation’s need for instant gratification. Anytime he detonated at the rim, it was up on the Twitter instantaneously with GIFs and YouTube clips of him posterizing dudes. And he didn’t just dunk, he dunked with such violence and brutality as if the rim killed Blake’s puppy.
There was nothing like young Blake but what we witnessed in the first two years, the relentlessness, the viciousness, the swagger and the oomph is not there anymore because one of the following reasons:
a. We can’t have nice things
b. We don’t want nice things
c. There might be something very wrong with his body
One thing that people often ignore/underestimate is the time that players coming out of college, especially big men require to grow in their game. Of all the big men drafted in and after 1990 who were or are considered franchise cornerstone at some point in their careers, only Shaq, Duncan, Towns and Jokic (I wanted to include Embiid onthe list but he has played less than 800 minutes in the NBA), displayed the ability to dominate the league in their rookie or sophomore season. Everybody else took 2–3 years to flesh out their games and get used to the physicality and speed of the game. The likes of Chris Webber (who jumped onto the scene in his 4th year), Garnett (3rd but made it to the All-Star team in his 2nd year), Dirk (3rd), Yao Ming (4th,even though he made it to the All-Star team in his first three years because China!), Chris Bosh (3rd), Dwight (3rd, had his first 20+ PPG season in 4th season), Kevin Love (3rd), Cousins (4th), Anthony Davis (kinda sorta in 2nd) and Porzingis (hopefully in 3rd) took their sweet ass time to get to terms with the National Basketball Association.
Eight players in league history have averaged 20–12 in their rookie season and only two since the NBA-ABA merger — Shaq and Blake. But that’s not good enough for us. Even before his second year in the league was over, we started lamenting him here, here and here. Here’s a bonus clip of Blake-hatred:
(*Sigh*. You know that you are in for a ride when people start hating your dunks too)
“He only dunks.” “He doesn’t defend.” “He has no post game.” “He can’t shoot.” “He’s not a playmaker.” “He’s all flash no substance.” “He stole my cookie.” “He towed my car.”
He was just 22 years old! How about giving him some breathing room? It wasn’t like he wasn’t trying hard out there. Watch his first two years again — he was the most fearless basketball player in the league. Nobody took the pounding that he did whenever he was within five feet of the rim and still like a mad bull he kept coming back for more.
His third-year averages of 18–8 didn’t do him any favors, neither his murder at the hands of Z-Bo in the first round of playoffs, before an ankle injury saved him from further debagging at his hands. Griffin had the same look at the end of each game in that series against the Grizzlies that Rocky had in Rocky III. Now, “Blake Griffin is Overrated” train was running full steam ahead, and I was beside myself.
When Doc “Glenn” Rivers checked into the Clipperland, it resulted in Blake delivering his best and the most consistent stretch of basketball during a regular season. He mixed a developing “KG-Bosh-Dirk-Duncan” jumper with his ruthless finishing around the hoop and (then) sneakily incredible passing. He carried an injury hobbled Clippers to the third-best record in the conference, as he finished third in the MVP voting. Suddenly there was a conversation of him being the best power forward for the next decade, and I felt vindicated.
And that was the last time I enjoyed watching Blake Griffin in the regular season.
He followed up a spectacular regular season with a clearly-not-so-spectacular playoff showing. He had his moments but never really took the game by its balls. He fouled out thrice in the thirteen playoff games (and was one foul away on four different occasions) and cracked double digits rebounds only once (in game 6 against OKC in second round) — not the showing you expect from (then) one of the five best players in the league. When OKC sent my Clippers packing in a heartbreaking second round, I had only thought on my mind — Blake will have to take his game up another level if we ever want to get out of the gauntlet out in the West.
And then he gave us this:
Blake (Year 5–7) — 21–8–5, 50% FG, 6.3 FTA, 22.3 PER, 54 games per season and one off the court altercation
By the way, these are stats of the best power forwards for their generation:
Duncan (Years 4–10): 22–12–3, 51% FG, 7.7 FTA, 25.8 PER
Barkley (Years 4–10): 25–12–4, 56% FG, 9.3 FTA, 26.3 PER
Malone (Years 4–10): 28–11–3, 53% FG, 10.2 FTA, 25.1 PER
Dirk (Years 4–10): 25–9–3, 47% FG, 7.1 FTA, 25.5 PER
So much for being the best power forward of this decade.
For someone whose game is based on his athletic abilities shouldn’t he be at the height of his powers? If this is his peak, what does this say about the later stages of his career? Or has he already peaked athletically? He was never a defensive wall to begin with and if athletically his best is behind him, are you willing to go full small ball with him? Plus, why can’t he stay on the floor? Is he destined to follow a Chris Webber career arc?
On the last point, remember how all the games missed due to injuries, the fact that he didn’t land in an ideal situation until he was 26 years and the league being in a state of flux (the lack of a rookie salary scale) became the main features of Webber’s potential top-50 career? Ditto, ditto (a stretch-five has been on top of Blake’s Christmas wishes for the last three years) and ditto (unfathomable amount of 3-pointers being jacked up) for Griffin. Maybe just like Webber, when it is all said and done, we will look at Griffin’s career as a “what-could’ve-been”.
Watching young Blake was like dining in a two star Michelin restaurants which the Michelin Guide describes as “Excellent cooking, worth a detour”, while watching this not-so-explosive-and-way-too-many-jump shots-Blake is equivalent to dining in a single starred Michelin restaurant — “A very good restaurant in its category”, you’ll have a nice experience but won’t tell your grand-kids about it.
But there’s a three Michelin star Blake, “Exceptional cuisine, worth a special journey” — 2015 playoffs Blake.
2015 playoffs (14 games) — 25.5 PPG, 12.7 RPG, 6.1 APG, 51% FG, 7.6 FTA, 1 BPG, 24.8 PER, 39.8 MPG
Only five players have ever thrown up 24/10/5 or better while playing at least 14 playoff games — Duncan in ’03, Bird in ’87, LeBron in ’15, Garnett in ’04 and Griffin in ’15. He channeled his rookie explosiveness, blended it with his jump-shot and amazing play-making abilities to transform into the second best player in the league for that one month. Lost in the celebrations of the CP3 series-winner was the triple double he threw up in the Game 7. And lost in the historic collapse against the Houston was the 26–14–13 triple-double he rolled out in the Game 1 win in Houston, without Paul by his side.
For reference, here are the best postseason stretch for Duncan, Malone, Barkley and Dirk:
Duncan, ’03 playoffs (24 games) — 24.7 PPG, 15.4 RPG, 5.3 APG, 52% FG, 9.7 FTA, 3.3 BPG, 28.4 PER, 42.5 MPG
Malone, ’92 playoffs (16 games) — 29.1 PPG, 11.3 RPG, 2.6 APG, 52% FG, 13.1 FTA, 1.2 BPG, 25 PER, 43 MPG
Barkley, ’93 playoffs (24 games) — 26.6 PPG, 13.6 RPG, 4.3 APG, 47% FG, 9.1 FTA, 1 BPG, 24.9 PER, 42.8 MPG
Dirk, ’06 playoffs (23 games) — 27 PPG, 11.7 RPG, 2.9 APG, 47% FG, 10 FTA, 0.6 BPG, 26.8 PER, 42.7 MPG
It’s not that far off, right? All those players were the best players on their respective teams and one of the top 5 players during that season.
So theoretically you can build a championship contender around Blake. But it’s the fit on the court that has always limited Blake’s production. You can’t post him up as often as you would like because of DeAndre’s man is ready to clothesline him if he darts towards the rim, and having him shoot 20 footers allows the opposing teams to slide smaller, more mobile wings who can shoot threes the other side of the floor.
And as much as the take-off social media aided his rise to popularity and helped him land a gazillion Kia commercials, he is now trapped in this shape-shifting league where Moreyball is the Holy Grail. If you can’t do either of the two things stated in the doctrine written circa 2012 — shoot 3-pointers or score around the hoop/draw fouls, like Neanderthals 24000 years ago, you are bound to go extinct. In a league where the Warriors and the Rockets are molding the fabric of time and space by jacking up 50 3-pointers every game, is going to war with them with a power forward who shoots 40% from the mid-range and doesn’t get you at least 10 FTA, the best option?
With exception of Dirk (because he can shoot 3s) and Duncan (because he would’ve just moved to the center position), it’ll be 56% harder to win a Championship with Malone or Barkley (a la power forwards who can’t shoot 3s and aren’t rim protectors) as your best or second best players. The ideal fit for Blake will be to be paired up with a center who can spread the floor on offense and gobble up shots around the rim on defense (Latvian Gangbanger anyone?!).
So the answer to the question “Can you win with Blake Griffin as your best player?” is probably “No”.
Now that he has limped off in yet another playoff series, he like Neo in Matrix will have a tough choice to make — either take the blue pill or the red.
Take the blue pill, get paid handsomely and you are stuck with one of the six best point guards in league history (although CP3 is on the wrong side of 30), churn out 50+ wins every season, enjoy the joys of living in L.A., get knocked out in the second round and turn into a poor man’s Stockton and Malone. Not bad I would say.
“You are a slave Neo (I mean Blake)”:
Or take the red pill, be free from the shackles of Paul, do more of the Blake Griffin things without the pressure of throwing a wayward pass or missing a defensive rotation and being showed up by his point guard in front of 19,000 people, play in with a team which hopefully has a better fit for you and possibly an easier route to the Finals.
The only problem is, Blake may not be the One.
Part 2 drops on Friday.
