3 and D — The D stands for Dimensions

The standard defensive, floor-stretching wing is no longer enough.

Anyone who watched Trevor Ariza play during this postseason could tell he was not having a great time.

The 6’8” swingman was perhaps the perfect on-paper model of a vaunted “3 and D” role player, yet against this year’s playoff competition, Ariza’s numbers plummeted. He shot almost 36% from 3 during his four-year stint with the Rockets, averaging nearly two steals a game while frequently taking the tougher of two wing matchups so that James Harden could focus on the other end of the court. And throughout the postseason, he was still trying his best on defense against players like Jimmy Butler and Kevin Durant, forcing them to create the kind of shots that make for superstar moments.

On offense though, he was shooting the Rockets in their collective foot. Shooting averages of 36/28/74 are brutal indictments of his performance unto themselves, but it wasn’t as though Ariza was simply receiving heavier defensive pressure — he shot 27.3% when open (nearest defender between 4–6 feet) and 32.1% when wide open (6+ feet), both marks which sit notably below his regular season averages of 35% and 41%, respectively.

The purpose of this piece is not to dissect the reasons behind this slump, as the variables involved are too numerous to possibly reach a satisfying conclusion. Perhaps it was the energy required to guard Donovan Mitchell, Jimmy Butler, or Kevin Durant that sapped Ariza’s offensive ability. Perhaps it was the uptick in mental pressure. It could have simply been the delayed effects of playing an 82-game season for a team that thrives on full-court offense.

No, the point is that when Ariza’s shots weren’t falling, he had almost no value on the floor. He didn’t command the type of gravity that James Harden or Chris Paul draw even on their cold nights. He struggled to establish any convincing presence as a driver. And as Harden and Paul struggled to create plays for themselves and their team, Ariza was largely helpless to do anything but swing the ball around the arc to the next man.

By no means is Ariza the only culprit here, though his situation may have been the most glaring due to a larger national spotlight and the magnitude of his collapse. Robert Covington saw similar struggles once in the playoffs. He shot almost identical splits to Trevor Ariza during the regular season (41.3/36.9/85.3; Ariza shot 41.2/36.8/85.4) but saw a similar nosedive in his efficiency once the postseason hit: 32/34/75.

With both of these players, the appeal is that they can still provide upper-crust defense when their shots aren’t falling. The problems manifest themselves on the offensive end, where they fail to provide much value outside of maybe light residual gravity as opposing defenders make sure they don’t get easy looks. Ariza and Covington both have meager AST/TO ratios hovering around 2:1 and are rarely, if ever, the fulcrum of their team’s offense.

As soon as an entrenched starter can no longer make a consistent impact on the offensive end, it demands a lot from bench players and coaches to find schemes that can mitigate or work around the cold streaks of players like Ariza and Covington. Ideally, these players would have a way to make an offensive impact even when their shots aren’t connecting. It’s here that I want to begin my argument for the overarching point: 3-and-D wings without a third skill (i.e., playmaking, post scoring, above-average driving threats) are easy to take out of the game. The 3-and-D wings that teams should be spending $50 to $60 million on don’t look like Trevor Ariza. They look more well-rounded, which I’ve divided into three primary examples later on in this piece.

In the limited minutes that the Rockets were without Ariza on the floor during the postseason, they still struggled compared when he was present. Much of this can be traced back to the uninspiring cast that would replace Ariza in his absence. Guys like Gerald Green, Joe Johnson, and Luc Mbah a Moute may be loved by fans, but their offensive contributions during this series were even less impressive than Ariza’s extended struggle. This ultimately forced the Rockets to keep playing Ariza despite his slump; they had to run their offense with a player who was basically on standby.

Philadelphia, whose wing depth was perhaps more varied (or simply more able to take advantage of a weaker conference), saw a significant downturn in their offense when Covington was on the floor: a 8% drop in EFG, a 0.07 decrease in PPP (basically equivalent to an 7-point reduction in Offensive Rating), and a 2.2 increase in turnover rate (turnovers/100poss). Covington’s defense remained outstanding, but with players like Dario Saric and Marco Belinelli posting ORtgs nearly 20 points higher than Covington, the 5-point improvement in DRtg that RoCo offered simply wasn’t enough. Covington was basically splitting rotation minutes with Belinelli for the entirety of the postseason based on what Brett Brown needed—an offense of movement or a stout defense.

So if simple 3-and-D guys aren’t getting it done, what’s the answer? I posit the following: a subgroup of the 3-and-D archetype that I’m tentatively calling “scheme breakers” or “3D+”

These are (I’m so tired of typing this dumb buzzword) 3-and-D players with the ability to contribute when the perimeter jumpers aren’t connecting. Skillsets beyond the ability to spot up allow for offenses to flex without demanding a personnel change; stars start cutting to receive a pass from the wings, complex three-passer schemes add uncertainty about the point of attack, and themselves adapt to varied defensive schemes. Three of the most distinct profiles break down like this:

Khris Middleton:

Middleton was somewhat sneakily the Bucks’ leader in total assists this season, tying with point guard Eric Bledsoe. Beyond being the All-Star, sharpshooting complement to Giannis’ driving and physicality, Middleton is part of a three-headed monster (including the aforementioned Bledsoe and Antetokounmpo) that ran the Bucks’ plays for much of the time. In the playoffs, Middleton on the floor was even more beneficial than it had been during the regular season. The Bucks, during the course of their 82 games, boasted a 1.131 PPP with Middleton on the floor. In the playoffs, that number increased to 1.148. In large part, Middleton’s phenomenal efficiency from every shooting zone is to credit. He had an ungodly eFG of 71% in the series against the Celtics, shooting lower than 59% from only one zone (40% at 10-16 feet) and hitting his threes at an elite rate (61% on 5.9 attempts), but Middleton continued to rack up reps as Milwaukee’s steady hand as the secondary playmaking option.

So what exactly does he do that players like Covington don’t? Well, he’s a terrifying threat in the post, with a fadeaway that most other guards (and some bigs) have no chance of blocking. The Bucks also use him as the ball handler in P&R sets, forcing smaller players to throw their bodies at his 6'8" 238-lb frame. Middleton is no Chris Paul, but sitting in the 85th percentile for P&R efficiency in the postseason, he’s still freaky good. Ultimately, he’s a wrinkle that very few teams have the personnel to answer for as a ball-handler or a post-up player, and he actively creates space or good looks for other players on the floor, which is why the Bucks are better with Middleton on and Giannis off than with Giannis on and Middleton off. He simply does everything with an impressive modicum of skill.

Prospect who fits the bill:

Keita Bates-Diop:

The Ohio State star may or may not be a highly impressive defender at the next level, but his offensive skills displayed in Columbus align well with Middleton. He’s an all-purpose tool operating from the post, whether he’s finding the open man or changing the shape of the defense by going for his own shot. Bates-Diop is comfortable bringing the ball up the floor, and while Ohio State’s talent often meant he was better off shooting than passing, the forward is comfortable kicking it out or finding cutters from the low post as well. He has the size and length to be the same post scorer that Middleton was, and his patient style of play is perfect for a 2nd/3rd-level distributor role, of which the Wolves have very few. He’s exactly the kind of player that you’d expect Thibodeau to love, but he’s also a rookie, so…

This isn’t a perfect highlights compilation for showcasing KBD’s passing, but his ability to score from both the perimeter and post in reliable fashion provides a wrinkle that can reshape the floor.

Joe Ingles:

Ingles, for his part, may just be the white Middleton, but the way Quin Snyder uses the Australian forward in his schemes for the Jazz allows for some differentiation. Ingles was second among Jazz players in assists per game, and leads among these three player archetypes with 4.8 dimes. The Jazz embraced having playmakers at as many positions as possible, sandwiching stud rookie Donovan Mitchell between any combination of renowned Flashy Guy™ Ricky Rubio, Royce O’Neal, and Sleepy-Eyed Jingling Joe. Ingles may not be at the same athletic level of Middleton or Iguodala but he possesses a deceptive flair to his passing that makes you wonder who the true “La Pistola” is. Ingles does almost all of his scoring behind the arc, taking 7 of his 11 attempts from three-point range, where he connected during the postseason at a 45.5% clip. His shooting zones would make Daryl Morey salivate: 2.4 FGA from within 5 feet, 7.4 FGA from 20 feet and beyond, and no more than 0.5 FGA from anywhere else on the floor. The distinction between Ingles and Ariza is an important one to make: while the Houston wing also attempted 2.4 FGA within 5 feet, he converts those shots at a 5% worse rate (56.1 to Ingles’ 61.5), basically the difference between playoff average (61.3) and the second-worst playoff paint team, OKC (56.1).

Ingles’ drives to the hoop are hardly ever for his own shots; instead, he opens an angle for the diving Burks.

Ingles’ shot chart may not scream anything outside of “hella efficient Moreyball wing” but it’s his function within the offense as a passer who’s as comfortable finding the cutter for an easy basket as most wings are being the cutter. He’s not as efficient in the P&R as Middleton, but the Jazz still used him as the ball handler in those sets fairly often during the postseason (21.3% of possessions) to throw defenses into uncomfortable shapes. During the postseason, he was third among Utah’s roster in potential assists (7.4) and secondary assists (0.5), while also sitting fifth in assist-to-pass percentage (9.1%). Among all playoff players (>15 mpg), Ingles was 26th in potential assists, 32nd in secondary assists, and 43rd in assist-to-pass percentage.

Prospect who fits the bill:

Kevin Huerter:

Heurter fell under the radar for much of the season, a curse that seems to run rampant with players under Mark Turgeon (a list that includes the aforementioned Middleton). After one of the more impressive combine showings from a non-Bamba player, Huerter’s value is much more clear. He has the curl-off-screen ability to fill a Korver or Redick role as a dynamic 3-point specialist, but the thing boosting him over other sharpshooters like Allonzo Trier and Gary Trent Jr. is a surprising combination of size (6'7.5") and playmaking ability (3.9 assists per 40) that is aided by quick feet. Huerter is an expert shuffler and is able to contain quicker guards thanks to his ability to rotate with intelligence and his desire to compete on most defensive positions. He’ll likely never be a player who can shade and contest shots once beaten, but even being quick enough that he’s not a target on switches is enough to contribute at an Ingles level. Next to Trae Young, his secondary playmaking and shooting will be essential when the defense starts clamp on the smaller point guard.

Andre Iguodala:

You didn’t think I could go without mentioning this 2015 Finals MVP and longtime 2K stud, did you? Iguodala has probably the least “3’’ of any of the listed 3-and-D players, but his shooting is enough to keep regular defenses honest and his playmaking for the Warriors trends more toward exceptional than ordinary. It’s hard to properly evaluate Iggy, as it is with any Warriors player, simply because of how well the roster and its schemes cover for one another. Still, as the sixth man for the scariest rotation in the NBA, Iguodala’s peanut butter versatility allows the Warriors to run what is still one of the most deadly efficient 5-man lineups in the league: The Death Lineup.

Iguodala’s role is not as a floor spacer; instead, he operates in all the gaps, manipulating the gravity of the players around him to create open looks. Surrounded by three of the best perimeter shooters in the league in Klay Thompson, Steph Curry, and Kevin Durant, Iggy’s role is defense and point forward-y stuff. His role as a playmaker is beyond impressive, and the lineups, while Curry was hurt and Andre was the starting point guard, were equal parts terrifying and effective. The two most-used Iggy-at-PG lineups (Iggy-Klay-KD-Dray-McGee and Iggy-Klay-KD-Dray-Looney) boast two of the highest eFG% among the Warriors’ most frequent lineups. Of the three player archetypes, Andre was the only one to average more passes made (35.4) than passes received (33.4) in the postseason. In short, his three takes much less precedence than the other two; instead, playmaking ability is his fulcrum.

Prospect who fits the bill:

Troy Brown:

Brown had plenty of opportunities to show his playmaking chops in Oregon, and he figures to get plenty more on a Washington team that’s desperate for passers not named John Wall. Brown has great size (6’7", with a 6’10 wingspan) but nowhere near the athleticism of prime Iguodala. Still, post-bad-back Iggy is still a super valid comparison for the young forward, whose experience as a PG in high school showed in his lone NCAA season. Compare the following stat lines:

Troy Brown (FR): 11.3 points, 6.2 rebounds, 3.2 assists on 44/29/74 shooting splits

Andre Iguodala (SO): 12.9 points, 8.4 rebounds, 4.9 assists on 45/31/78 shooting splits

Yes, Brown lags behind Iguodala in every statistical respect, but he also demolishes Andre’s freshman season statistics. It’s easy to think that, given a season of NBA development (far superior to NCAA development), Brown could fill that same role that Iguodala fills for the Warriors as a big wing who can switch 1–4 and create offense for the teammates around him, especially guys who need their offense created for them (see: Dwight Howard).