Sunday Shootaround: Rudy Gobert breaks through his ceiling

BOSTON -- Rudy Gobert is a star. How you feel about that statement depends on two primary factors: how much you value defense, and how much you watch the Utah Jazz.

Gobert’s defensive value is been well-established at this point. He’s a shot-blocking machine who’s figured out how to defend the entire paint. Other big men have stretched the limits of verticality, few have done it with such dexterity. Gobert is so effective that most teams don’t even try to go down low when he’s in the game, and fewer still are successful.

That ability has made him the linchpin of the fourth-rated defense in the league and a leading candidate for Defensive Player of the Year (along with Kawhi Leonard, Draymond Green, and Marc Gasol). Utah’s top-flight defense, by the way, has been without George Hill for much of the season, as well as Derrick Favors for almost half. NBA defense is rarely about one player, no matter how dynamic. For every action, there’s a reaction and for everything you take away, something else opens up.

How vital is Gobert in this equation? When he’s on the court, the Jazz allow 99.9 points per 100 possessions. When he’s on the bench that number skyrockets to 106.2. With Gobert locking down the paint, his teammates can concentrate on taking away the 3-point line, which they do better than anyone else in the league. That leaves inefficient long twos as the shot of choice against Utah.

What’s elevated Gobert from the ranks of intriguing young talent into All-Star consideration has been a steadier offensive game. He’s averaging double figures in scoring for the first time in his career and shooting an absurd 67 percent from the floor, with an improved free throw shooting stroke to go with it. He doesn’t possess unicorn range by any means, but Gobert has become stronger and more sure of himself around the rim. He’s no longer just a passive participant in Utah’s offensive flow, he’s a main actor.

"I used to be more nervous," Gobert said. "Now I’m just playing, having fun."

As with his defense, Gobert’s offensive impact is contextual. When he’s on the court, the Jazz score 108.1 points per 100 possessions and 103.9 when he’s off. The true mark of a star is that they make everyone else on the court better. Traditionally, that’s been the role of a playmaking scorer. In Gobert’s case, his very presence attracts so much attention that everyone else is free to do their thing. That includes Gordon Hayward, who is also having a breakthrough campaign.

"He’s so big that if he catches the ball on a roll, even if you’re there and he’s inside six feet of the basket, there’s a good chance you and the ball are going in the basket together," Celtics coach Brad Stevens said. "He’s great on lobs. He’s gotten better at finishing in traffic. He’s a good offensive rebounder. And then they’ve got a bunch of guys who can really shoot the ball, so he gets looks because you’re worried about the 3-point line. He’s a really good player."

The context is important because when you watch Gobert play, you still shake your head in amazement at some of the things he can do. Against the Raptors on Thursday, Gobert got the ball above the 3-point line with fellow 7-footer Jonas Valanciunas guarding him closely. Gobert needed all of two dribbles to fly past Jonas and dunk all over Canada. It was the kind of play that makes you wonder just how much potential is still left to be tapped.

"What’s the one thing we’re going to work on? There isn’t one," said Utah assistant coach Alex Jensen, who has worked closely with Gobert since he came into the league. "Offensively, and even defensively, the potential is a lot higher than where he is right now. That’s the thing that makes him different. He’s hungry and not satisfied with signing the (4-year, $104 million) contract. He does want to be the best."

That move against Toronto would have seemed impossible two years ago when Gobert burst on the scene. The sheer force of his Stifle Tower presence was obvious, but he seemed unsure and tentative on the offensive end and his shot-blocking ability masked his inexperience on defense.

All of that is coming together this season and none of it is happening by accident. From the moment he entered the league, Gobert has had to prove to himself and everyone else just how good he can be. His blossoming is the result of hours of work, primarily alongside Jensen.

"They have a unique bond," Utah coach Quin Snyder said. "He’s unforgiving and Rudy likes that."

Or as Gobert put it, "He believed in me even when I wasn’t playing. He tells me the truth, not what I want to hear. That’s great. He helped me a lot to get better every day and he’s treated me the same way."

The two first became acquainted during their first seasons in Utah. Gobert was the raw rookie, drafted at the end of the first round. Jensen was the first-year assistant. Gobert rarely played apart from D-League assignments, so he spent most of his time working on his game with Jensen. As Jensen recounts, Gobert was there every day, ready to work.

What stood out to the coach was that Gobert not only wanted to get better, he liked to play. That’s not always the case with project big men. If anything, Jensen needed to focus Gobert on making small gains that would allow the rest of his game to flourish.

"Rudy’s one of those guys who will come in at the end of the season and he’ll want to work on everything," Jensen said. "I told him his first year, if you can go vertical at the rim and make free throws you’ll play for a long time and make a lot of money. He’s surpassed that."

It helped that Gobert arrived with a chip on his shoulder. Projected to go higher in the draft, he slid all the way to the 27th pick, where the Jazz scooped him up. Sitting on the bench during his rookie year only added to his desire to show people that he belonged. He got his chance midway through his second year and helped turn the Jazz from a middling team into a defensive juggernaut.

A breakthrough was expected last year, but a knee injury cost him 20 games and limited his effectiveness. Seen by many as a looming power coming into the season, Utah failed to make the playoffs and Gobert stagnated. From such disappointments are great players born. Gobert got stronger during his rehab and over the summer. He worked on his core and lower body strength. He always had decent hands, but now when he catches the ball he’s stronger and more sure of himself.

"Before he used to catch and any little bump would affect him, especially in traffic," Jensen said. "It’s funny how that works. Just like not playing and falling in the draft, I think (coming back from an injury) was a blessing in the long run. It accelerates the process. Usually guys get serious about their health and their routine later in their career. That showed him how fragile it is."

Gobert has been anything but fragile this season. He’s started every game for Utah -- the only member of the starting five to do so -- and has emerged as the team’s primary interior force. The extension he signed in the offseason is further validation of his emergence as a franchise cornerstone.

Gobert’s been feeling himself a bit too, telling ESPN’s Tim McMahon earlier this season that he viewed himself as the best center in the league. While he lacks the nouveau appeal of the emerging wave of 3-point shooting giants, Gobert’s old-school game makes him delightfully anachronistic, if not wholly unique. He’s a throwback to the way big men used to play, albeit with athleticism to spare and a work ethic to be the best.

"Rudy’s competitive," Snyder said. "It burns in him. He wants to be really, really good. Anyone that talks to him, that resonates. There’s a confidence that I don’t think is misplaced. The goals that he has for himself are really high. We’ll see over the course of his career if they’re achievable. I don’t think he’s one to put a ceiling on that."

He’s not, and no one else should either. Rudy Gobert has arrived, even as his vast potential has yet to catch up to his long frame.

As we say goodbye to 2016, let’s take one last look back on the year that was and the storylines that defined the league.

The vindication of LeBron James: By the time the Finals rolled around, LeBron presented us with yet another riddle in his complex contextual puzzle. Assuming the Cavs lost to the Warriors -- and that was the general consensus -- Bron would have been 2-4 in the Finals and 0-for-2 against Steph Curry and company. Calling him the greatest player of his generation was a formality, but placing him among the All-Time All-Timers with a losing Finals record was a trickier proposition. Instead, James rallied the Cavs from a 3-1 deficit and enjoyed his signature moment, breaking down in tears after completing the comeback. He’s still playing for history, but his place among the immortals is no longer up for debate.

The Warrior effect: The Warriors changed the geometry of the court when they unleashed their Death Lineup on the league. Teams had played small before, but never this well. The switch-everything counter unveiled by Gregg Popovich and employed by the Cavs in the Finals, placed a renewed emphasis on defensive speed and versatility bringing the stylistic template for this era full circle. The Warriors then went out and added the ultimate complimentary weapon in Kevin Durant. In response, the new collective bargaining agreement implements measures that make attracting superstars to super-teams a losing financial proposition. Everyone is adjusting to the Warriors. Maybe Joe Lacob was right, after all.

Russell Westbrook (and James Harden) versus the world: One of the byproducts of super-teams in Cleveland and Golden State has been the elevation of players operating in one-star franchises. Consider that while LeBron and KD may be the two best players in the league, Westbrook and Harden have taken the lead in the MVP race by doing everything for their respective teams. The league would like to keep it that way with the new CBA, shifting the focus from a place where teams are able to "share stars" (but not accumulate them) to one where there’s a singular player in every city. The latter gambit didn’t quite work. Whether the new one takes hold will define the league’s direction over the next few years.

Kobe, KG, and Timmy say goodbye: While lacking the definitiveness of the Bird-Magic rivalry and the singularity of Jordan’s domination, Kobe Bryant, Kevin Garnett, and Tim Duncan defined their eras and brought the league into the 21st Century. Each went out in their own inimitable manner. Kobe embarked on a season-long farewell tour. KG held on till the bitter end. Timmy simply went away. They’ll all meet again in Springfield as soon as they’re eligible. All three were special players and the league they left behind is in even better hands than when they arrived.

This is truly Adam Silver’s league now: It’s been three years since Silver officially took the reins from David Stern and in that time we’ve seen a kinder, gentler NBA office. Not that Silver is a pushover by any means, but from ridding the league of Donald Sterling to reaching a new CBA deal with the NBPA, we have entered a stage of relative peace and prosperity not seen since the halcyon days of the late ‘80s and early ‘90s. There are sizable issues still to be worked out. They include the transformation from a television league to a digital one, and the NBA’s sometimes uneasy balance between being a progressive institution and its corporate instincts. Yet, for the first time in a long time, the NBA has been more proactive than reactive and that’s a credit to Silver’s leadership.