Vincit qui se vincit.
Indeed, peel back the layers (virtuous and unenviable) of yourself and examine each closely, and a pathway to positive change will become apparent. Whether or not one opts to actually set foot down such a pathway, fraught with chittering insecurities and undulating fears, is an entirely separate task.
For NBA players, these hoary notions manifest in the clash between realizing their best on-court selves and embracing whatever form that may take. While encouraging continuous growth is a vital aspect of team-building, maximizing personnel within the confines of a system’s structure (ideally dictated by top-end talent) is undeniably the quickest route to success.
Enter Fred VanVleet, who stepped into a new, more prominent role with gusto last season, expanding his game in myriad ways (particularly as a lead pick-and-roll operator and pull-up threat) and ultimately emerging as a deserved first-time all-star. VanVleet’s increased on-ball presence saw him notch the second-highest usage rate (23.3 per cent) and unassisted made field goal percentage (42.8 per cent) of his career (second only to the oddball Tampa year)—all while improving his overall true shooting percentage (55.2 per cent).
And yet, as the 2022-23 season looms, VanVleet and the Toronto Raptors have discussed shrinking his time with the ball in his hands in lieu of utilizing (and hopefully maximizing) what remains the most potent element of his basketball repertoire: Off-ball dynamism. It is ineffably impressive that VanVleet is not only cognizant of how his peak skills can impact Toronto’s ability to win, but that he is comfortable enough with his game that he is willing to sacrifice for the greater good of the team.
Of course, a litany of benefits accompany such a shift: Preserving VanVleet’s health (he was last season’s minutes leader at 37.9 per game, which eventually wore him down) for the playoffs, improved spacing for other initiators like Pascal Siakam and Scottie Barnes, and even the opportunity to involve VanVleet as a screener more often.
But the primary advantage, as has been the case his entire career, is deploying him as a lethal catch-and-shoot weapon.
Last season, among players who appeared in 50 games or more, averaged at least four catch-and-shoot threes, and shot 40 per cent or better on those looks, VanVleet ranked third (Anfernee Simons, Luke Kennard) in three-point percentage (43.3). The Raptors will look to capitalize on VanVleet’s additional off-ball possessions through various set plays, ranging from typical half-court actions to sideline and baseline out of bounds (click here to read Samson Folk brilliantly breaking down one such example) sequences.
Here, on the first possession of a game, Siakam brings the ball up past half-court. He hands it off to O.G. Anunoby before continuing down the weak side, with Barnes setting him an off-ball screen.
Anunoby, meanwhile, hands the ball to Gary Trent Jr. as VanVleet bullies his man along the baseline, heading towards the weak side. Just as he reaches the far corner of the key, VanVleet bursts towards the perimeter, with Siakam and Barnes setting dual screens on his trailing defender. VanVleet catches a simple pass from Trent, and buries the triple.
While set plays are helpful, VanVleet does not require them to generate quality catch-and-shoot looks. Part of what makes him one of the league’s top off-ball aficionados is his ability to indirectly control possessions via relocation. This is not an easily quantifiable skill, and yet warping defences through creative movement à la Stephen Curry, forcing ripples of doubt and discomfort to lap at the edges of opponents’ minds, can completely alter the nature of any given game.
Here, in a straightforward example, VanVleet comes off the screen by Precious Achiuwa in the pick-and-roll. Achiuwa’s man is playing drop, and as VanVleet careens into the lane, Trent’s defender comes to dig, leaving him open in the corner. VanVleet sees Trent and kicks to him—but he doesn’t stop there.
Rather than stand and watch Trent attempt to create something, VanVleet immediately begins to backpedal, a man in perpetual motion, putting himself in position to catch the ball at the arc. VanVleet’s man does a good job recovering, but it’s too late.
Perhaps the most obvious boon to having VanVleet roam away from the ball will come with the Raptors’ transition attack. Last season, Toronto averaged 20.6 transition possessions per game, good for fifth-most in the league. However, it ranked in just the 20th percentile (1.09 points per possession) overall, hampered in part by the poor finishing of its guards (VanVleet and Trent ranked in the 32nd and 46th percentiles, respectively).
Allowing players like Siakam or Barnes or Achiuwa to snag a rebound and hurtle up the floor means VanVleet can fill the wings before the defence can get set, square up, and get off a likely open look.
Here, it’s Barnes who snares the defensive board out of the sky and fires it to a streaking Siakam in the middle of the floor. VanVleet, trailing most of the action, surveys the landscape as the defence zeroes in on Siakam and pinpoints an unguarded section of hardwood above-the-break.
With no one there to even get a hand up (shout out to Coby White, who at least was pointing in VanVleet’s direction), Siakam delivers a shovel pass to VanVleet who, more than a foot behind the three-point line, rises up and knocks down an easy one.
He conquers who conquers himself.
It is a monolithic endeavour for players to uncover and then find tranquility within their best on-court selves. Even more difficult can be developing the level of comfort it takes to shape one’s best self to fit what a situation demands.
VanVleet is a player who understands himself, understands what conquering entails. And for the Raptors, that awareness may be a driver of success not only for this season, but for seasons to come.
