Brandin Podziemski cracked the code. Will he remember the combination?
Here’s one that will make Brandin Podziemski — a guy who believes no compliment towards him is too strong — quite happy:
He’s a point guard in the exact same way that Steph Curry is a point guard.
Before you start screaming “blasphemy,” let me explain.
These men are point guards in name only. Yes, they can dribble the rock, jog it up the hardwood, and get the team into an offensive set. But they are at their absolute best when they are off the ball, creating pure chaos with their movement, their anticipation, and their sixth-sense basketball IQ.
And, in the case of Curry, his supernatural, sky-bending, sport-changing shot-making ability.
Of course, Podziemski can’t match that last trait.
But for so long — despite sharing a locker room with the single greatest example of how to play the game in perpetual motion — the young guard has stubbornly tried to be a point guard in the Chris Paul, Ja Morant, or Shai Gilgeous-Alexander mold: Ball-dominant, everything-runs-through-me point “gods.”
(Let me know how that’s working out for those first two.)
In turn, Podziemski’s game morphed from something young, fresh, and exciting into a stale loaf of bread, drawing the justifiable ire of Warriors fans everywhere.
But for one glorious quarter on Sunday against the Nuggets, Podziemski finally received the not-so-subtle message the universe has been shooting his direction for months.
The result? A 20-2 fourth-quarter run, where Podziemski shot 6-for-6 in the frame and sparked the Warriors to a shocking 128-117 win over a true title contender, all despite the absences of Curry, Jimmy Butler, Kristaps Porziņģis, and Draymond Green.
To highlight the issue that was at hand before Sunday — and perhaps after, too — let’s engage in some theater of the mind. Close your eyes and picture the definitive Podziemski offensive possession.
Dollars to cents, I’ll bet you’re imagining Podz with the ball at the top of the key, dribbling around a screen and probing the lane like a guy sneaking past a security guard. About 10 feet from the basket, he hits the brakes, and either forces up a tough, prayerful floater or violently pivots in circles, desperate for someone — anyone — to take the ball off his hands as four or five sets of defenders’ arms collapse on him.
In short: bad basketball.
Worse yet, it was predictable basketball. And the book has been out on Podziemski for over a year now.
It’s exactly why his trade value went from once soaring high enough to make opposing front offices prioritize him in trade talks to cratering faster than Enron stock.
It’s also why Butler’s season-ending injury had Warriors fans justly wondering if Podziemski could even be a winning player anymore. You see, when Butler and Podziemski shared the floor, the offense ran through Jimmy. That freed up Podz — an exceptional slasher with a strong feel for the game off-ball — to slither into all the spaces the defense left exposed.
Put him on the ball, however, and draw the defense’s full attention? Suddenly, it becomes glaringly obvious that he relies more on craft than talent, and there is only so much mileage you get out of craft at the NBA level.
So what a sight it was to see Podziemski away from the ball on Sunday.
Podziemski, who to that point had missed his first five shots acting as an on-ball “maestro” — forcing up a lot of slop, frankly — finally stopped trying to force a square peg into a round hole. He drifted to the wing. He started letting guys like Gui Santos, Gary Payton II, De’Anthony Melton, and, most surprisingly, Moses Moody handle the initiation of sets at the top of the floor.
The ball movement was great, the shot selection was prime, and the Warriors looked like, well, the Warriors again.
Podziemski finally cracked the code that had been so remarkably easy to decrypt: He was a combo guard.
“It was phenomenal,” Warriors coach Steve Kerr said after the game. “He can help himself by actually getting off the ball earlier in a possession and then getting it back… The defense is closing out on him; he can use that leverage to get past people, make a pass, score a layup.”
These, of course, are not new coaching points.
And the hope for the Warriors is that the case-in-point success of Sunday will keep the light bulb on.
But here’s a little bit of cold water for that idea: Because when asked about playing off the ball, Sunday, Podziemski said he doesn’t even think about it.
In fact, he made it a point to say that he’s a point guard.
“I’m a point guard, so usually I get to dictate what happens,” Podziemski said. “I just tried to do what was right in the moment. My IQ for the game and knowing things has gotten me this far.”
(Are you starting to understand why Kerr is going year-to-year on his contract?)
Ego vs. logic — it’s the one battle that always seems to find itself front-and-center in the NBA.
Podziemski’s ability to swallow his pride and do what he’s actually best at — which just so happens to be exactly what the Warriors truly need from him to play winning basketball — will be the defining storyline of Golden State’s final 25 games.
The home stretch of this season is his chance to shine.
He can do that best by stepping out of the spotlight.
So what’s it going to be, BP?
The code was cracked on Sunday. The only question now is whether Podziemski realizes he actually picked the lock, or if he still, incorrectly, thinks he’s holding the master key.
