Contenders by Committee? Phoenix Suns Hope Depth Trumps Star Power
It became a revelation as the playoffs went on.
Teams were baffled, losing leads and games not to Nash and Stoudemire, but to the likes of Goran Dragic, Jared Dudley, Channing Frye, and Lou Amundson.
Granted, past contenders had enviable reserve units. This was different. This wasn't the bench admirably holding down the fort until the typical heroes returned. The subs were the heroes. They were the ones taking a lead, extending it, sticking the dagger in crunch time.
The Suns found out they didn't necessarily need their stars to deliver a killer blow. Instead, they were winning by attrition—wearing down the opponent with wave after wave of fresh, talented legs. Nash no longer needed to be rushed in early in the fourth quarter. Heck, sometimes he wasn't needed at all in the final frame.
After losing Stoudemire this summer, Phoenix opted to put their money on all-around solidarity rather than top-heavy superstars. Instead of swinging for David Lee or Dirk Nowitzki, the Suns netted Hakim Warrick, Josh Childress and Hedo Turkoglu—all through sign-and-trades made possible by their trade exception created by Stoudemire's departure.
The Suns' preference of manpower over mega-stars presents three advantages Miami's Big Three can only dream of.
No shortage of talent, no sign of weak link
With the aforementioned moves, the Suns are now 10 deep (11 if Earl Clark ever gets a clue). Of those 10, only three averaged less than 10 points-per-game last season. One of those three, Robin Lopez, is guaranteed to improve that clip thanks to his projected starting role for an entire season.
The lowest production came from Dragic, who still averaged eight points-per-game in only 18 minutes-per-contest.
Think about that luxury for a minute. Every player that steps on the floor for Phoenix is a threat. There's not a single player who gives the other team the chance to say, "Nash is killing us, so let's cheat off that guy to help."
That's invaluable. Even the defending champion Lakers held their collective breath every time Ron Artest, Shannon Brown, or Jordan Farmar jacked up a shot (although, give Artest credit for coming up with three decent Finals games, offensively).
Phoenix will be sitting cool and confident when their loaded bench takes the floor. Star-laden teams like Miami, Boston, Denver, and (depending on the night) L.A. will be sweating out how long their reserves play, micro-managing their minutes before hurrying their stars back into the game.
This isn't conjecture—this already (and recently) happened. Just ask the Blazers, Spurs, or Lakers.
It will happen even more frequently next season. Childress will take over for the inconsistent, injury-prone Barbosa, and Warrick has replaced the offensively inadequate Amundson.
If you're an opposing coach, who do you fear more? Miami's Big Three, Mike Miller, and a crowd of flawed bit players? Or Phoenix's top-to-bottom talent?
Everyone plays = everyone rests
There's a more long-term affect to the Suns' depth—rest.
As talented as Miami's trio of LeBron, Wade, and Bosh is, the only way they take a break during the season is: 1. When they beat teams by 20 points or more in the first quarter (will only happen with lottery teams); or 2. If one of them gets injured. They will never get enough rest.
Counter that with the Suns. Nash will sit at least 15-20 fourth quarters of the regular season, either because the game is already in hand or because Dragic/Turkoglu already have the offense clicking.
Turkoglu will likewise benefit from not having to facilitate every minute he's on the floor. The bench will often force the starters to keep their seats warm.
Old guys like Turkoglu, Nash, and Hill will be sporting December legs in April. The bodies of Miami's stars will think it's June. This matters, as the 2005-08 Pistons would tell you.
Pieces fit, chemistry flourishes
Other than rebounding (important and unavoidable. Lopez will have to be huge), the Suns have every single facet of the game covered. Shooting, passing, penetrating, perimeter defense, it's all there.
What's more is the fit. The players know their roles—in fact, they take pride in them. The bench takes ridiculous pleasure in overwhelming their counterparts. They love keeping the starters seated, and the starters actually love it, too.
Individually, every player helps address a specific need on the floor. Lopez rebounds and defends. Turkoglu steps up in crunch time. Dudley does the intangibles. Frye spreads the floor. Go down the list and identify the strengths of every member of that 10-man rotation—they all bring a unique skill set that complements everyone else.
They all know this. Will the same be said of Miami, even by April? Will Joel Anthony or Mario Chalmers get a look from the Big Three or Riley when they miss a big shot, even if they're open?
If LeBron misses a game-winner, will that subconsciously convince Wade he should try to do it the next time around? Those kind of thoughts happen in pickup games. To say "that won't happen" at the professional level, when so much is riding on their success (especially the Heat's success), is just illogical.
That kind of pressure gets to a team. It creates a tension they can't explain or deny. Compare that to a team featuring Nash, Hill, and Gentry, who almost specialize in defusing tension.
Miami has already committed over $300 million for a lot of fanfare, questions and expectations.
Phoenix has none of those things, but they're still contenders—for a third of the price.
