
Kobe Bryant's Passing Is the Next Step in His Battle to Defeat Father Time
Kobe Bryant is one of the greatest players in NBA history.
With five NBA championships, multiple scoring titles, an NBA MVP, two Finals MVPs and an 81-point game, he's a statistical giant.
He's also a lockdown perimeter defender who takes pride in shutting down his man. He's a creative passer. He's an underrated rebounder. He's a long-range marksman, mid-range savant and tough finisher at the rim.
There's very little he can't do, and he's always tackling his weaknesses in the offseason.
But 2014 Kobe is no longer durable enough to carry an offense for an entire season. At 36 years old, he's well beyond his peak and burdened by an injury-riddled lower body.
That's why ball movement will be the next evolution in his game.
This doesn't mean opposing offenses no longer respect him. In 2012-2013, his last full season on the court, Kobe shot 46.3 percent from the field—only 0.6 percentage points off his career best—while still pouring in 27.3 points per game.
Unlike previous years, however, Bryant was able to use the threat of his individual offense to boost the play of his team through passing. His rap has always been one of straddling the line of greatness and selfishness, with his volume shooting alienating teammates and distracting from team play.
Not that it isn't at least partially understandable: Bryant has posted a record of 81-39 in his 40-plus-point games in the regular season over the course of his career, according to NBA.com, which is equivalent to 55 wins during the span of a single season.
It's just that he's no longer capable of mustering such performances with any kind of frequency. He's "only" done it eight times in the last two full seasons, compared to nine times in 2009-10.
Very few players have ever resisted Father Time as well as Kobe has, if only because he's constantly adapting his game to his body. When his athleticism began to go, he tightened up his three-point jumper and developed a whole new set of tricks from the elbow.
When his basket attacks from the mid-range declined as the league studied up on his various feints and maneuvers, he expertly refined his fadeaways and pull-ups.
Recognize this baseline fadeaway, a staple of his current offensive arsenal? That wasn't part of earlier iterations of his repertoire.
Kobe has always been about the next adaptation, whatever it may be.
This upcoming season, expect it to be his passing.
He'll always find a way to get his points, but the heyday of unstoppable Kobe is gone. Defenders always bring their best against Bryant, and it would be foolish to strain his already declining body for the pride of points.
That's why we began to see the evolution of this passing phase in 2012-2013. Kobe's tactical competency has never been greater, and his on-court play demonstrates a nuanced understanding of his role within the flow of a game.
What's precisely in play is an over-catering of defenses to stop him. This was a non-factor in years past, when no army of double-teams could hinder him whatsoever.
Now they can.
There's no question that a part of Bryant believes he still has the goods to overcome multiple defenders. He's even admitted as such to his teammates, as told by former running mate Antawn Jamison to ESPN LA Radio (via ProBasketballTalk):
"“Kobe will tell you, he’s like, ‘Look, you guys as my teammates, yell at me. Let me know that you’re open because I’m so programmed.' And this guy has told me this. ‘I see nothing but that basket. You could be open. It could be three guys on me. But the only thing I see is that basket. So, you have to tell me, Look, I was open. Or yell at me in mid-play.’ He said, ‘That doesn’t affect me at all, and I respect that.’ So, you know, I’ve dealt with Gilbert [Arenas], who, ‘Look, I’m going to shoot with three guys on me, and that’s it.’”
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But his brainier side has revised his playing style to profit from these tilted defensive schemes.
His 6.3 assists per game in 2012-2013, a career high, was just the start. More telling was the manner in which he racked up these dimes: anticipating double-teams with quick ball swings, dragging out pick-and-rolls to attract two defenders or cutting away from the ball to create space for teammates.
No longer relying on brute-force scoring, he's picking his spots and carving up defenses with better decision-making.
It's not that Kobe could never pass the ball; it's that now he's utilizing that aspect of his game a bit more to ease his own burden. As Grantland's Zach Lowe notes:
"A large portion of his typical assists come from post-ups and wing isolations in which Kobe holds the ball for SO DAMN LONG — sometimes as many as 10 consecutive seconds — that defenses almost feel like they must send an extra defender at him at some point. And when that happens, with the shot clock dwindling, Kobe is an expert at reading multiple layers of help defense and dishing to the Lakers’ very best option — the cutter, the player who comes open behind the cutter, or some other spot-up guy.
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That isn't to say that Kobe can't get his anymore. If he encounters one-on-one situations with little to no help in the vicinity, expect him to pounce as he usually would.
It's in those other moments, those makable but non-ideal 16-foot fadeaways with 13 seconds left on the shot clock, that he's deferring.
Let's revisit that famous baseline fadeaway for a moment and analyze how and when Kobe used to go for that shot.
Here's an example from 2010, in which Bryant posts up Maurice Evans of the Atlanta Hawks. When Metta World Peace makes the entry pass, he floats a bit before cutting through to the opposite side of the floor.
His defender, Joe Johnson, does not follow. Instead, he lingers at the edge of the paint as a deterrent for any Bryant drive middle.
With 12 seconds left on the shot clock, Bryant shimmies, head fakes and fires up a fadeaway jumper. Though he's perfectly dynamic enough to fade both ways, he veers baseline and away from the help.
Is this a bad shot? Even for Kobe, it probably is. It's a bit early in the possession to hoist up something so difficult—especially when a shot of that quality is possible at any time.
Younger Kobe was both arrogant and talented enough to regularly get away with these kinds of looks. Older Kobe is likely just as proficient, but his seasoned sense of the game points him towards better decisions.
Now let's look at a play from 2013, this time with Bryant backing down Jerryd Bayless of the Memphis Grizzlies. Zach Randolph is playing a similar helping role to Johnson in the example above, limiting penetration to the middle with his presence.
But this time Bryant does not spin away from the help. He backs Bayless down, waiting for Randolph to suck in a step too far. Just as Z-Bo gets settled into his help and flat-footed, Bryant zips a pass back out to Jamison, who bangs a three.
It's all about patience. Pass it out too early and Randolph recovers. Pass it out too late and Randolph gets a paw on the ball. Kobe zeroes in on the exact instant when Randolph is both caught in between two players and leaning too far on his heels.
Unable to react quickly, Jamison is left wide open.
Kobe's transformation has begun, and it has been increasingly reflected in the numbers.
In 2011-2012, his 0.914 points per possession on post-ups that ended with a shot attempt or assist ranked in the 66th percentile in the league, according to Synergy Sports (subscription required).
His 1.081 points per possession in 2012-2013 was in the 94th percentile.
The jump stems from better decision-making in one of basketball's core dilemmas: pass or shoot.
If Kobe hopes to extend both his career and effectiveness, he'll need to remodel a greater portion of his game to involve this kind of unselfish play.
Being the cerebral player that he is, there's no question that he has the capacity to do just that. As has been the constant battle of his entire career, it's more a matter of whether he's willing to place aside his own ambitions and self-belief for those of his teammates.
Given what we've seen most recently from Bryant, it looks like he will.





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