March basketball ‘maddening’ in many ways
Warning: The author of this column is going to sound like “he’s a bitter, old man,” so be prepared to grouse about his views on basketball and roll your eyes as his nephews and nieces occasionally do.
If I was preparing to play a high-flying, stand-25-feet-from-the-rim basketball team in the NCAA Men’s Division I Championship, especially if I was coaching a mid-major or not-so-glam squad, I’d throw a zone defense at ’em and watch them sweat.
The general consensus among the basketball world seems to be (to play off a quote from Hoosiers, the greatest basketball movie, ever) “we play man-to-man, that’s all we’ve played in the past, and that’s all we play now.” Zone defense are often brushed aside as not effective or weak.
Zones have weaknesses, yes, but when the defense works in tandem and moves (the key is moving) as a unit within the construct of the zone, bodies are put on bodies in position to rebound and effectively defend jump shots.
I watched with “maddening” frustration as teams of incredible athletes and veteran, knowledgeable coaches were unable to solve zone defenses, especially when those zones were extended in half court.
The key to cracking down a zone is motion, constant motion. Now, if the offense is blessed to have a guard or small forward (or a large forward like Zion Williamson) that is able to penetrate the zone off the dribble, prepare for a Top 10 plays of the day dunkfest. Big guys move in the paint, flash the post or foul line, set screens for cutting guards.
Otherwise, stand around, look for a 21-foot jump shot with the big guys not in position to grab a rebound.
I sat in praise of Tennessee head coach Rick Barnes as his Volunteers shredded Iowa in the first half, building a one-time 25-point lead in the first half and 21-point advantage at halftime.
Apparently Barnes’ squad went brain dead during the halftime break, and forgot how they dismantled Iowa’s defense in the first 20 minutes. Lo and behold, the Hawkeyes’ defense sparked the offense and managed to force overtime. Fortunately, for myself and many other bracket prognosticators, Tennessee prevailed in overtime and advanced to play another day.
A zone working in concert with one another understands the weak spots and, through proper movement, lessens the availability of shot opportunities. I watched in frustration as offenses operated for 23 seconds, going nowhere near the hoop and then forcing up a shot clock-beating attempt.
Oh, you old fogie, get with it, the game’s changed. It’s all about driving and kicking out, shooting 30 shots from 20 feet.
Duke’s final two field goals were layups. The first was a contortion act by Williamson (more on him in a second) that led to a foul by UCF’s really big man Tacko Fall and the second was a putback by RJ Barrett (who may or may not have pushed off to get the rebound) on Williamson’s missed foul shot.
The final shot of the game was a layup by UCF’s Aubrey Dawkins, the coach’s son, that somehow did not go in.
I guess the moral of my quiet rant is college basketball has forgotten, for the most part, how to play offense against a zone, so why not run it more often? If a team fouls on defense, so what. Chances are the free throws, especially by most big guys, will be missed anyway. (Making free throws is a basketball skill, just like dribbling, shooting 20-foot jump shots, and dunking, so why so poor most of the time?)
Williamson, though, is the perfect zone-breaker. A tight end body with the quickness and agility of a scatback, Williamson is scary. Any player who’s willing stand in front of him (except for Fall, maybe) should be removed from the game immediately to have his head examined.
So, I’ll sit and root for my brackets. Unlike UC Irvine (the Anteaters, one of the coolest mascots ever), my brackets are still in the conversation entering the Sweet Sixteen. I’m just hoping those brackets (and Duke, and Gonzaga, and Tennessee, etc.) will be in the conversation after the second weekend.