Moving Beyond Specialist Decision-Makers
Embracing risk-tolerant environments to develop generalists in a game of specialists.
I intentionally used Playmaker, not point guard when writing the player’s version of Developing Basketball Intelligence because of our preconceived ideas about positions. Since its publication, position-less basketball has gone mainstream, although position-less basketball is often just a euphemism for everyone shooting three-pointers. Now position-less basketball faces a backlash, as people yearn for the traditional point guard (Fake Fundamentals). As one coach wrote, “Everybody wants to run a non-point guard, positional-size lineup until they realize they need point guard decisions to be made.” What is a point guard decision? Why do coaches and fans seemingly want decision-making responsibilities and basketball intelligence relegated to a single position?
Another coach answered my question with his own: “Do you not subscribe to your best decision-maker having the ball in their hands at the ends of games?”
How does one determine his best decision-maker? We assume the answer is obvious. Coaches suggest nobody knows their personnel like they do because they are in practice every day. Coaches, however have their own biases. Is a player with low turnovers the best decision-maker or does he just play overly safe? Is the player with the most assists the best decision-maker or does he just have the ball the most? Is the player who can see and make every pass the best decision-maker or is there more to decision-making? I watched every game of a college team, and I am convinced the coaches misevaluated their personnel. I may not be correct, but certainly one must answer how he determines the best decision-maker before deciding only one player should possess these skills.
My last team had at least six of fourteen players function as a point guard during the season, and every player handled the ball against pressure and led the fast break (I only consider the playoffs and cup games with the top 12 teams, not our regular season games where we won by an average of 60). When the coach asked, I re-watched the fourth quarter highlights of our championship game (below), and arguably five players had the ball to make the play in the fourth quarter.
The player who handled the ball at the end of the semifinal game to preserve the win was not in the game at the end of the final. I do not subscribe to the idea of one dominant ball-handler making all the decisions, even at the end of a championship game.
I want global players, as described in Cross Over: The New Model of Youth Basketball Development, or generalists, as described by @nonewthing: “The more talent a player possesses, the more his profile expands on the specialist-generalist spectrum: Positional versatility; different roles/playing contexts in the same position; ability to roam and look natural across the pitch: This defines a generalist.” A traditional point guard is a specialist; a three-and-D wing is a specialist. I want generalists. “Generalists are the possible best and higher ranking talents than specialists in most cases,” (@nonewthing). I want every player to handle the ball, shoot, make decisions, and more.
The college coach responded, “I think everyone would love to have a team where everyone can be trusted to make decisions, and there’s no drop off regardless of who has the ball. But I would say most teams don’t have the personnel for that. Although it would be ideal, getting players for that seems difficult.”
Of course it is difficult when you want specialists. Players do not become good decision-makers by not making decisions. A coach must risk mistakes, and maybe even losses to develop these qualities. Coaching is not hoping and wishing, but doing and developing.
The team lost its best player and point guard from the previous season. He dominated the ball and epitomized the type of singular decision-making the college coach preferred. He left a void. When I started, I characterized the team as combo guards who dribbled too much and were not great shooters, and centers who were not going to grow enough to be professional centers. Previously, the team ran plays every time down the court, and games were played in the low 60s. A new player joined the club who I thought might develop into our starting point guard, but just as he was starting to understand, his dad removed him from the team, and he quit basketball altogether.
The player who ended up as our dominant ball-handler had played as a 3/4 in the previous season, and he was known mostly for his off-ball cutting and offensive rebounding.
The other prominent player at the end of the championship game was our shooting guard who I essentially benched midseason for being a chucker.
This team with multiple end-game playmakers did not start with these qualities. They developed over the course of the season. Everyone played. Everyone was encouraged to dribble and make plays. I am unconcerned with turnovers, especially when trying to make a play. We played fast. We ran few plays. We played a lot in practice. Very few practice activities had no interactions or offense-defense dyads. Very few drills did not incorporate decision-making of some kind. While most coaches are saying “No, no, no” and “Pass to the point guard,” I’m yelling “Go, go, go” and “Faster.”
These players were good players before I arrived. They adapted quickly to a new style of play, which attests to their previous coaching and experiences. They rose to the occasion quickly when challenged to be more than they had been previously. Losing the point guard helped others escape roles they had adopted and allowed them to see themselves as something more. I did not have to do too much traditional teaching and coaching.
I encouraged the players to do more, to explore, to try new things, and not to fear mistakes. I did not seek perfection, just better. I emphasized speed of play and speed of decisions from day one because players must adapt to the greater intensity in games and faster speeds as they progress to the next level. We won games because our opponents struggled to adapt to the speed at which we forced them to make decisions. Our players were prepared for the next step because of the speed at which we played in practice and games; speed in terms of getting up and down the court (:14 shot clock games), but more importantly speed of decisions (1-second games).
Coaches treat players as specialists, then question why they are not generalists. They see a bad decision and double down, specializing more and more, limiting players to prevent mistakes. When the goal is to win every possession, every game, maybe this makes sense, but it lowers the ceiling. A team of specialists can win a lot of games, but generally struggles to be the best or win a championship. Teams need playmakers to win, and players do not become playmakers without attempting to make plays.
When I take over teams, I do not look at players as they are now, but as who I believe they can become at the end of the season. I make mistakes. I overrate some and underrate others. I do not account for a player’s desire or a player’s depression when his girlfriend dumps him. Nobody bats a thousand. My job often is to help players see what I see. They do not need to be specialists, adapted to one specific role. They can be generalists. They can develop into playmakers, whether or not they are the primary ball-handler. Once they can see the vision, they can work toward it, expanding their skills, not just practicing on their specialized strengths.
Nobody inherits or even recruits a team filled with generalists. It requires a willingness to risk mistakes and losses to encourage every player to broaden his skills, explore, and try new moves, passes, and shots during games. More than anything, it is the environment and risk tolerance that enables players to develop in this manner, turning over-dribbling combo guards into efficient playmakers, stiff centers into stretch fours, players favoring structure and sets into open-court demons, and a team known for falling short in big games into champions.