The Book of Brunson: Breaking down his two-point bag

I rewatched all 224 of Brunson's playoff two-point shots. Here's what I learned

You are Jalen Brunson. (Cool feeling, right?) You catch the ball on the right wing and weave together some between-the-legs dribbles while you contemplate how you should score. Pound dribble to a step-back? The double-crossover-to-hesi combo to get to the paint for a classic floater?

Not this time. You call up good ole’ Isaiah Hartenstein — love that guy — for a pick, but it’s a ruse. As he approaches, you flash the quickest in-and-out in the land and reject the screen, blowing by your hapless defender like the Road Runner lapping the Coyote. Layup drills aren’t this easy.

As Knicks fall around him like so many orange, autumnal leaves, Brunson just keeps carving a path to points. He’s had five 40-burgers in 11 playoff games. There aren’t many guards in the league with as diverse a shotmaking profile. I wanted to dig deeper and figure out how he got all these buckets, particularly the ones inside the arc, where the artistry happens.

A shot chart can show you where the shots happened (sort of), but they can’t show you what kind of attempt it was. The NBA assigns a type to every shot, but the descriptions are both inconsistent and wrong too often to be useful for a micro-analysis like this. So, I hit the tape. I rewatched all of Brunson’s 244 two-point attempts from these playoffs and categorized them into several shot types (there is some discretion involved, art and science, but I tried my best to be consistent).

Here’s how he scores inside the arc, from least prolific to most. The Book of Brunson, if you will (or if you will not; that’s what I’m calling it, regardless). It starts a little slow, but I promise it gets exciting toward the end. Kind of like every single Knicks playoff game.

7) THE DUNK

1 make, 0 misses, 0 FTM, 2.00 Points Per Shot (PPS)

Brunson is listed at 73 inches tall. If you believe that, I’ve got a bridge not too far from Madison Square Garden I can sell you. He only had three dunks in 77 regular season games, but he had one threadbare yet magnificent jam in these playoffs. Here it is:

When I played 2K (back when a single digit followed the “2K” prefix, yikes), that was called the “rim-grazer” package. Barely gets over the cylinder. Still counts!

6) Cuts

2 makes, 1 miss, 1 FTM, 1.67 PPS

Here’s the thing about Brunson. Brunson makes Brunson happen. He doesn’t need passes from teammates; he needs them to set picks, space the floor, and stay out of the way. In the regular season, 23% of his two-pointers were assisted, a low number. In the playoffs, that’s fallen to 15%. And calling some of these “assists” feels generous. You tell me how much the pass here had to do with Brunson scoring:

I digress. Back to cuts. Synergy has him in the fourth percentile for the share of shots finished off of cuts; it’s not his jam. By my count, Brunson has had precisely three field goal attempts off cuts in 11 playoff games. Two went in. For what it’s worth, Hartenstein had the assist on both (and in fact, Hartenstein’s 10 total playoff assists to Brunson are more than anyone else on the roster). Here’s one:

Understandably, the Pacers were not expecting it. Neither was I, but then again, I’m not paid eight figures to stop him.

5) Transition

6 makes, 3 misses, 3 FTM, 1.67 PPS

The Knicks, famously, are the slowest team in the league, and they’ve crawled in the playoffs. Might be too tired from the heavy minutes; have to save your energy for offensive rebounds, I get it. Josh Hart carries most of the transition load.

But every once in a while, someone will poke the ball loose and toss it up to Brunson. He’ll catch it, dribble, lay it up. Most of the time, he makes it; sometimes, he misses it. If it doesn’t sound that exciting, well, it’s not.

If you want to see one, here it is. I appreciate how he uses his weirdly broad shoulders to create space around the rim:

Brunson can’t really throw it down in a highlight kind of way (except that one time when he did!). Fast-break Brunson layups are about as dull as fast-break layups can be. Let’s move on.

4) Spinning (usually) fadeaways over his (always) left shoulder

13 makes, 8 misses, 2 FTM, 1.33 PPS

Okay, now we’re getting to the good stuff. I will lump most of Brunson’s middies together, as you’ll see shortly, but I am partial to the aesthetics of the spinning fadeaway.

I mean, look at this thing. It’s gorgeous. The footwork, the arc, everything. And always — always! — using that left shoulder as a pole to spin around:

These are difficult shots, but by my count, he’s shooting 62% on turnarounds! That’s wild. I wonder if he shouldn’t take more of these and fewer step-backs, although these are a bit harder to get off with bigger bodies on him. Brunson knows what he’s doing; I shan’t second-guess him.

3) Layups and blow-bys

29 makes, 23 misses, 19 FTM, 1.48 PPS

Layups are a massive part of Brunson’s shot diet, even if it’s harder for him to get to the rim than some of his less-normal-sized peers in the league. Shot a little better doing these against Philly with a jump-less Embiid than against Indiana, where he has gone just 14-for-29 by my count (although he’s drawn a handful of fouls, so that’s a bit misleading).

But it’s always fun seeing him break defenders in half on the way to the hoop like it’s the most casual thing in the world:

It isn’t casual, though. It’s a lot of work. I’m stressed about the impact of all this acceleration and deceleration on his joints, ligaments, and bones, and despite what the tenor of this piece may lead you to believe, I’m not even a Knicks fan.

I’m also stressed you’ll judge me by my chosen highlights, spent more time than I care to admit picking ones that will prove to you that I’m both knowledgeable and a little hipster. Brunson made Nesmith touch parquet twice in the ongoing series (which hurt me; I’m a huge Nesmith guy), but that’s a little too cool to be cool, you know what I mean? Here’s where I landed. Brunson’s not as big a pass-fake guy as you might expect, but he sure does love to pretend that a pick is coming:

Ah, now I’m second-guessing myself. Oh well. You know what Brunson layups look like. It’s all crazy dribble combinations and shot fakes in fits and spurts, starts and stops, that somehow end with him blurring to the hoop for a high-arcing shot off the glass.

2) Floaters

30 makes, 32 misses, 18 FTM, 1.26 PPS

The infamous Brunson floater. A cruel tool, one the Geneva Convention was specifically designed to combat. It’s unstoppable (except when it’s stopped).

Floaters are a weapon of last resort for too many point guards, the shot they puke up when they can’t get past their man. That can be true for Brunson at times, too.

But Brunson has weaponized the floater, often by using it to bait fouls. If he gets the hostage dribble on a defender, putting them on his back, you better believe he’s gonna throw the ball upward and his body backward to get the whistle (I thought they legislated that out of the game, but nobody told the refs judging Brunson). That’s not my favorite play, of course, but it’s hard to deny the effectiveness.

He launches floaters from everywhere and anywhere. Leaning left, leaning right, falling down. Contested, wide-open, in the middle of four bodies. Occasionally, Brunson reminds me of classic fight-movie scenes in which the protagonist is drowning in enemy combatants, buried so you can’t even see him, when he suddenly springs up, spraying bad guys everywhere:

People say Brunson is good at getting to his spots, as if there is a finite number. I don’t really agree. All spots are Brunson spots; the floater will come from whatever direction he chooses.

1) Step-backs, side-steps, pull-ups, and other hyphenates

31 makes, 45 misses, 12 FTM, 0.97 PPS

Even excluding the turnaround fadeaways and floaters, Brunson has shot more midrange jumpers than any other type of shot. Yeah, that’s sort of cheating; I’m lumping many different kinds of buckets into one bucket. Maybe it’s too broad to be useful. But frankly, some of these are hard to differentiate (and also, this post would be too long; if you’re still here, I appreciate you. Know that this started off being much longer in a way that benefitted no one.). You’d think it would be easy to tell a pull-up from a side-step, but I swear Brunson can combine these in ways that somehow don’t defy the laws of basketball (i.e., traveling). It’s hard, so eventually, I decided to lump them all together.

Midrange jumpers are generally looked down upon. You can see from my points-per-shot calculation how much less efficient they’ve been than everything else, but that’s the nature of the beast. Just because they don’t always go in doesn’t mean we can’t appreciate them.

Sometimes, it’s hard to manufacture even sub-optimal offense (and that’s particularly true in the playoffs). Sometimes, you gotta go out there and cook; as long as the meal’s not burnt, it’ll do. And sometimes, it’ll be g*dd*mn delicious:

In truth, many of these possessions are ticking grenades, and it’s up to our hero to jump on them. The Knicks try to run their offense, nobody else can do a dang thing off the dribble (not, mind you, that they receive many chances), and suddenly there are six seconds left on the shot clock. Brunson, thankfully, can do a whole lot in six seconds. This is great defense; it doesn’t matter:

The midrange isn’t dead; like wealth, it has simply consolidated into the hands of the few. Only players with sufficient star wattage are allowed to take them. And with a playoff run for the ages, Brunson’s been outshining nearly everyone.