On Monday morning's episode of ESPN's The Hoop Collective, Tim MacMahon explored the thing Spurs Nation has been arguing about all week: Victor Wembanyama averaged 25 points per game last season and still doesn't have a go-to move. MacMahon wondered whether the Alien would be better off with a "more limited diet of things" instead of sampling everything.
That sounds good to the Silver and Black's fan base, but it hasn't happened yet. The efficiency case for it is the easy one to make, and Vic has already handed over the evidence this season by opening the season with a 1-for-13 performance against Oklahoma City and shooting 36.5% through three games.
But the less-discussed reason for Wemby to pick his spots has nothing to do with his shot chart. It's the other four guys standing on the floor with him.
Wemby has to work harder to become unguardable
Versatility is the name of the game right now, but there's a problem. In many modern video games, characters have a skill tree that allows you to add moves as you gain experience. As you level up, you earn a skill point to either assign the protagonist a new ability or upgrade one you already have.
It's always fun to add new moves, but when you encounter tougher enemies, one can struggle if none of the skills are powered up enough to make a dent in the opponent's health bar. That's what Wembanyama's game feels like to me. He has a ton of abilities, but none are currently elevated to the level you expect for a year four MVP-frontrunner.
Wemby can pop a three, face up from the elbow, flip a jump hook over his shoulder, or grab a rebound and go coast to coast himself, but is he a master at anything other than the lob dunk yet? We'd have to say no. The problem is that owning a move and mastering it aren't the same thing. Mastery requires repetition until it no longer requires thought, freeing up the brain to read and react.
Then come the counters, and this is the part that gets skipped in the conversation. Counters only exist if the defense is committed to stopping something. The jump hook over Tari Eason on Friday was the right idea, even if he got bumped off the block twice before he got it off.
His teammates can't read a book he rewrites every possession
Think about where the uncertainty leaves his teammates. De'Aaron Fox, Stephon Castle, Devin Vassell, and Dylan Harper don't always know what Vic is going to do because Vic doesn't always know either. When the answer changes every possession, every crunch-time trip, every tense moment, you get hesitation.
Cutters leave a beat late, a shooter drifts to the wrong window, or a screener sets for a drive that turns into a fade. This team had a top-five offense last season, so I'm not saying what they were doing is broken (and I wish they'd get back to that style), but things could certainly be easier.
When it was winning time for Dirk Nowitzki or Tim Duncan, for that matter, you knew where they'd be. So did their teammates. They could back cut, slash from the weak side, flash to the corner, or perform whatever action was necessary when they started their moves because the defense was focused on stopping individual greatness. Being predictable to your own guys isn't a weakness. It's a comfort.
Mitch Johnson didn't dodge any of this when I asked him about the post-up over the weekend. Multiple things can be true at once, and everyone involved can be better, was basically his message. Wemby has already started living in the elbow more often, which is the right foundation. Now he just needs to build a fortress on the underdeveloped land.
