There are two operating principles behind how I watch games. 

One is from ESPN’s Seth Greenberg, a friend, who once said, “I like to put guys in spots on the court and then let them play.” 

The other is from Hall of Fame coach Hubie Brown, who once worked with me for a week in Turkey coaching prep players, and it’s the smartest basketball jewel I’ve ever heard. He said, “You set screens for one reason: to make defenders think.” 

Put those two smart observational truths about basketball together and you can start watching the game like a coach does. Of course, the game is complex and nuanced, and the NBA features almost all of the world’s best players, so they tend to make things look easier than they really are. Fundamentally though, most of the great plays we see daily can be better understood using those two basic ideas. 

Every other week or so, I will walk through actions I love, writing down what I see when I watch them. Some plays are well scripted and the defense does as predicted, resulting in the offense getting what it expected. I call these plays “scripted beauty.”  

Other times, players read the game and improvise, based on matchup and skill level. I call this aspect of basketball “jazz,” and it’s more commonly found than scripted beauty. That’s the nature of the game: Put players into spots and then let them play while forcing defenders to think about what they should be doing.

Jazz: Off To The Races

One of the goals of any basketball offense is to play “a man up.” 

Golden State head coach Steve Kerr talks about moving the ball until the “first domino falls,” which means a second defender is needed to guard the ball or an opponent in a very dangerous position—like a big man at the rim or Steph Curry wide open for 3. Fast breaks are a great way to get the same thing accomplished. 

Down 10 to Atlanta last Tuesday, in a must-win game in which Oklahoma City was struggling to score, the Thunders' Corey Brewer gathers a rebound and Russell Westbrook screams, “Go, go, go!” 

The Hawks jogged back as Brewer raced, and, importantly, Jerami Grant did a perfect rim run. He stayed just a little right of Brewer to open up a path and used his body to put an Atlanta defender on the opposite side of where Brewer was on the court. Brewer’s speed and relentless attacking of the rim turned this play into a 2-on-1 as he passed three Hawks. When the final defender chose to contest Brewer, he made the simple dish for the dunk. 

There is nothing OKC could have run on offense that would likely have resulted in an easier basket. By racing the ball up the court, the Thunder created an easy dunk despite not having a numbers advantage at the start of the possession.

Scripted Beauty: Spain Action

The “Spain pick and roll” is now a staple in the NBA. It’s typically a big man setting a “butt screen” or a high screen for the guard before rolling to the rim, but a second offensive screener arrives to set a screen on whoever is now trying to guard the roller or the ball handler. 

In this action, we see New Orleans' Anthony Davis setting the butt screen for Rajon Rondo and rolling to the rim down the middle. Davis’ teammate Ian Clark then sets a screen on Charlotte center Frank Kaminski, who switched onto Rondo, leaving Rondo’s initial defender, rookie Malik Monk, on Davis.

The third Hornets defender was Jeremy Lamb, and he should have stayed home on Davis and let Monk slide out to Clark. But this is where Hubie Brown’s teaching point is so golden. The Spain action makes defenders think—setting them up to choose poorly sometimes. This is one of those times, as Monk has no chance to defend Davis at the rim.

Rondo is a brilliant lob passer, which is why this is such a nice play design for the Pelicans.

Scripted Beauty: Think Fast

This staggered ball screen uses the same principles as the “screen the screener” action in most Spain pick and rolls. 

These days, teams switch men on screens often—something we first started seeing a ton of during the 2014 NBA Finals between the Miami Heat and San Antonio Spurs—so adding multiple screens to a set helps reinforce the confusion that switching is designed to alleviate.

But, on this play, Detroit's Andre Drummond does not switch. Instead, he “ices,” hanging back while teammate Ish Smith trails Utah's Ricky Rubio over the top of the Rudy Gobert screen. We can see Blake Griffin pointing out Gobert as he releases from his roll, but he doesn’t move onto him (he probably should have) and stays up to defend a very good shooter in Jonas Jerebko. 

This is how the play is scripted because it puts every Piston into a quick decision with any hesitancy or mistake proving costly. Griffin stays high, no one checks Gobert, and Drummond gives Rubio an angle to the rim instead of cutting him off. Rubio might be the best point guard in the NBA at finding a diving big man and he does so, here, in a creative way.

Jazz: Randle ‘Bullies’ Harris

“Bullyball” is common in this era of switching, but there are not a lot of big men who are adept at scoring over tough but smaller defenders who can keep them out of getting angles to the rim. 

Julius Randle at the pinch post against a small shooting guard in Gary Harris is a true mismatch. Randle just lets space clear before beating him up with size and craft. His ballhandling ability combined with a truly savvy feel for using his left hand creates hard-to-defend scoring angles beautifully. 

Randle has been one of the league’s most dominant players since the all-star break.

Scripted Beauty: Flexing

The “Flex” offense is run, at least in part, by almost every pro, college, and high school team in America. The “flex cut” features a corner player racing along the baseline, where he uses a screen to get open near the rim. The screener then gets a “pin down” screen to pop open for a 3.

This is another “screen-the-screener” look. Defenses can switch parts of this action if they want, and on this play they do, with Indiana having Darren Collison switching onto the Philadelphia screener who pops out, Ersan Ilyasova. 

That’s a 6-foot-2 guard trying to contest a 6-foot-10 forward, which is a nearly impossible task—and is exactly why the Sixers ran this classic play.