For years, opponents could count on Randle stopping the ball and steering his own team off course. Now, the best defense in modern NBA history will have its hands full just slowing him down. What happened?
The NBA playoffs typically reveal players for who they really are, but this year’s postseason has shown Julius Randle to be someone he’s never been. It’s as if every bit of wishful thinking around one of the league’s most talented and frustrating players suddenly snapped into reality. The hang-ups that have followed Randle from team to team for more than a decade—gone. The disengagement on defense he showed even earlier this season—vanished without a trace. At 30 years old, Randle just figured it all out: his decision-making, his focus, his place in the universe.
This version of Randle is all star, no caveat. OK, some caveats. Randle will still get a little loose with his dribble here and there, and he might occasionally catch an opposing role player with an elbow to the head. That’s a price the Minnesota Timberwolves will gladly pay for a bruising forward operating with this kind of clarity, generating offense in a way very few can. How many bigs have we seen overpower Draymond Green? Randle lowered his right shoulder, time and again, and made it look easy. Brace for impact, and he’ll drive right around you. Fail to do so, and Randle will send you flying into the stanchion. He’s a bulldozer that handles like a Miata. The only liability, before this postseason, was the man behind the wheel.
Randle has churned out impressive stat lines for years, putting him vaguely in the company of playmaking forwards like LeBron James and Giannis Antetokounmpo—but his contributions never stood up to scrutiny. Randle seized possessions in progress and settled for jumpers he shouldn’t have. His playmaking was too wild to steady an offense, and his scoring was never efficient enough to carry one. Focused defensive attention rooted out even the best parts of his game. In his two previous playoff runs (in which he was hampered by injury, to be fair), Randle averaged 17 points on 34 percent shooting from the field and had more turnovers than assists. This time around, he’s averaging 24 points on 51 percent shooting and dishing six assists a night, tied for the team high. That’s not growth—that’s an entirely different player.
This is only surprising to some. If you’ve been keeping tabs on Mr. Randle (I have, along with Hart, Ball, Zubac and BI) you’ll see a player who consistently adds to his game. He’s cut down on the bull in a china shop drives every season, he added a solid three ball, his passing game was good when he came into the league: it’s better now. His defense has improved.
Now we’re seeing the game really slow down and Julius analyzing read/reacts at an even more elite level than in previous season’s.
I think he would have been exactly this good all season long in New York, it just took him some time to figure out how his role works in Minny.
FROM THE ABOVE ARTICLE:
For years, opponents could count on Randle stopping the ball and steering his own team off course. Now, the best defense in modern NBA history will have its hands full just slowing him down. What happened?
The NBA playoffs typically reveal players for who they really are, but this year’s postseason has shown Julius Randle to be someone he’s never been. It’s as if every bit of wishful thinking around one of the league’s most talented and frustrating players suddenly snapped into reality. The hang-ups that have followed Randle from team to team for more than a decade—gone. The disengagement on defense he showed even earlier this season—vanished without a trace. At 30 years old, Randle just figured it all out: his decision-making, his focus, his place in the universe.
This version of Randle is all star, no caveat. OK, some caveats. Randle will still get a little loose with his dribble here and there, and he might occasionally catch an opposing role player with an elbow to the head. That’s a price the Minnesota Timberwolves will gladly pay for a bruising forward operating with this kind of clarity, generating offense in a way very few can. How many bigs have we seen overpower Draymond Green? Randle lowered his right shoulder, time and again, and made it look easy. Brace for impact, and he’ll drive right around you. Fail to do so, and Randle will send you flying into the stanchion. He’s a bulldozer that handles like a Miata. The only liability, before this postseason, was the man behind the wheel.
Randle has churned out impressive stat lines for years, putting him vaguely in the company of playmaking forwards like LeBron James and Giannis Antetokounmpo—but his contributions never stood up to scrutiny. Randle seized possessions in progress and settled for jumpers he shouldn’t have. His playmaking was too wild to steady an offense, and his scoring was never efficient enough to carry one. Focused defensive attention rooted out even the best parts of his game. In his two previous playoff runs (in which he was hampered by injury, to be fair), Randle averaged 17 points on 34 percent shooting from the field and had more turnovers than assists. This time around, he’s averaging 24 points on 51 percent shooting and dishing six assists a night, tied for the team high. That’s not growth—that’s an entirely different player.
This is only surprising to some. If you’ve been keeping tabs on Mr. Randle (I have, along with Hart, Ball, Zubac and BI) you’ll see a player who consistently adds to his game. He’s cut down on the bull in a china shop drives every season, he added a solid three ball, his passing game was good when he came into the league: it’s better now. His defense has improved.
Now we’re seeing the game really slow down and Julius analyzing read/reacts at an even more elite level than in previous season’s.
I think he would have been exactly this good all season long in New York, it just took him some time to figure out how his role works in Minny.