Alchemy is chemistry but with the magic of childhood tossed in for good measure. In the dry, scientific method of chemistry, one atom of oxygen and two of hydrogen at the correct temperature will create water, over and over, until the sun burns out and maybe even after. Replicability rules all. In the magical realism of alchemy, instability and unpredictability reign. Perhaps adjusting the ratio of earth and air in iron won’t create gold the first 100 attempts, but it just might the next time. There’s a language of hope, of rags to riches, of mystery and secret to alchemy.
Precious Achiuwa and Scottie Barnes are an alchemical reaction on the basketball court. Their combination might mean one reaction at one time and another entirely the next. There’s mystery, secrecy, and most of all hope that informs their collective spirit.
Separately, Achiuwa and Barnes have been impressive players this season, albeit to differing extents. Per-game averages for Achiuwa of 8.8 points, 5.8 rebounds, 1.0 assists, 0.5 steals, and 0.7 blocks with miserable efficiency are modest. Barnes’ 15.6 points, 7.1 rebounds, 4.8 assists, 1.0 steals and 0.9 blocks are immeasurably louder. (Their per-100-possession stats are closer to identical, with more rebounds for Achiuwa and more assists for Barnes, for what it’s worth.)
Toronto’s offense is significantly better with Barnes on the court than on the bench — he has the second best offensive on/offs on the team behind only Pascal Siakam. Achiuwa is neutral — he’s been storming up the standings since returning from injury, and before long expect him to be a fairly large positive. Defensively, both have slightly below average on/offs, with Achiuwa again coming in worse.
To be fair, those numbers are largely tilted by Achiuwa’s poor start to the season. Since his return to the lineup from injury on Jan. 2, Achiuwa’s performance has been much more reliable. (Over that same period, the team has been significantly better on both ends with Barnes playing than sitting.)
When the two are together, they statistically take on the identities of Barnes on both ends. The offense is impressive, scoring 118.3 points per 100 possessions, but the defense is poor, allowing 116.5 per 100. That’s the chemistry — two elements in combination have a stable, metallic bond.
But beyond the numbers, there’s magic at work. Non-repeatable, chaotic magic. Sometimes they make gold and sometimes nothing more than rusted iron. Achiuwa and Barnes both have their weaknesses, to be sure. But in many ways, they address one another’s limitations by turning them into strengths. This is where the alchemy comes in, which isn’t always reflected by the numbers at large. Achiuwa and Barnes don’t just ameliorate one another; they catalyze entirely new modes of functioning on both ends of the floor.
For anyone who watches the game rather than looks at the numbers, Achiuwa is not weak defensively. Quite the opposite. He thrives in chaos, with a unique ability to collect blocks when he’s not in between the man and the basket. He high-points blocks like he’s catching a frisbee.
Achiuwa is a problem solver, able to turn opponents’ sure things into zero points, able to wield chaos like a sword. He can turn his “out of position” into opponents’ “out of luck.” Fortunately for Achiuwa, Barnes creates chaos on the defensive end. Sometimes he does it via mistakes, such as standing up too high at the point of attack and giving up blowbys. Sometimes he does it intentionally, such as when he’s recovering into space and able to use his wingspan to shrink the court into the palm of his hand.
Either way, Achiuwa shines in those moments. Both he and Barnes are perhaps at their best as bigs, protecting the rim, but both are comfortable guarding across the positional spectrum, switching, and filling multiple roles even in single possessions.
When it works, it is brilliant. Against the Boston Celtics on Jan. 21, they combined for five blocks. The Celtics shot 42.9 percent at the rim (the Raptors usually allow 67.4 percent accuracy to opponents at that range). Achiuwa and Barnes contested the most and second-most shots among all players in the game, at 18 and 16 respectively.
On the other end, Achiuwa is the one who creates chaos. For all his talent, he still doesn’t completely function within the structure of Toronto’s intended system. He can sometimes catch the ball and, rather than moving it to the correct place, make one of a host of unpredictable decisions. He can drive, without hesitation or care about how busy the paint might be. He can fire a contested jumper. He can just stop moving entirely and hold onto the ball (that’s usually bad). But what do all those things have in common? Chaos.
On the offensive end, it is Barnes who thrives in chaos. His processing speed is so rapid that he envisions events seemingly before they happen, and certainly before other players on the court can react. Barnes can envision things most humans cannot — his passing is genius made manifest in sport. If anyone can anticipate Achiuwa, it is Barnes — certainly more than any defender.
Barnes is tied for the lead on the Raptors in assists to Barnes, with 12. (Fred VanVleet also has 12.) Their connections frequently come within the chaos of paint touches, back cuts, and other dynamic scenarios.
Much of what makes the duo of Barnes and Achiuwa so tantalizing is their versatility. Toronto’s offensive system can be stagnant and static because so few of its players are actually versatile. But Barnes and Achiuwa are two of the rare ones who can shift into multiple different roles, from game to game, possession to possession, or even within a single offensive play.
Barnes has been Toronto’s backup point guard, wing partner alongside Pascal Siakam, punishing forward in the post, lurker in the dunker spot, and dribble handoff hub. That’s a lot of balls to juggle! The only players in the NBA used as or more frequently in the pick and roll as the handler and screener and as a dribble handoff hub are Pascal Siakam and Giannis Antetokounmpo. (You can also limit it by post-up frequency and frequency receiving handoffs, both of which Barnes does as well, but Siakam and Antetokounmpo still are as multifaceted.)
Achiuwa’s emerging as no slouch himself in the diversity department. The numbers don’t show it, but when he’s on, he can much the same as Barnes in terms of filling different roles. He can handle in the pick and roll, pop or roll when he’s the screener, attack as a second-side guy, and even space the floor. He’s currently the eighth-most efficient roll finisher in the NBA, albeit on a very low frequency.
Their pick and rolls can go in either direction, with either handling or screening, even for one another. Both are great finishers when they get running starts.
Aggression is the most important component of Achiuwa’s success. He’s so athletic and talented that as long as he’s making quick decisions, they generally turn out okay. The same is true of Barnes. Within the realm of broken plays, transition sets, or otherwise confounding offensive moments, the two of them are exceptional at landing on their feet. Barnes can usually outthink anyone with all the pieces in motion, and both can use their athleticism to ensure movement — offensive or defensive — ends up in their advantage.
Against the New York Knicks on Jan. 22, the Raptors sat both VanVleet and Siakam to start the fourth quarter. Achiuwa and Barnes put the game away with them still on the bench. Achiuwa stabilized the defense and Barnes the offense. The stars aligned, at least for the moment.
In many ways, the difference between alchemy and chemistry is the difference between the unshackled dreams of childhood and the stolid bureaucracy of adults. Alchemy may not be more effective, but it is certainly more fun.
Achiuwa and Barnes are alchemical basketball. They are also, relatively speaking to established NBA players, children on the basketball court. Achiuwa is 23 years old and Barnes 21, and they’re still figuring out what interactions cause what results in the NBA. On the basis of individual plays, they are as much motivated by their dreams as they are by the solid physical principles that exist within the baselines.
The Raptors keep believing that Achiuwa and Barnes add up to more than the sum of their already extraordinary parts, that their shared unpredictability is an asset, not a debt. Perhaps one day that will be true — or at least, one day that will always be true. Much within the spirit of alchemy, that Barnes and Achiuwa are more than the sum of their parts is true now only sometimes. One day the two will become NBA adults, will be replicable and stolid, will be motivated by reality rather than the thin wisp of dream. When that happens, Toronto’s iron will finally, and without any recourse or relapse, have become gold.
