Analyzing Immanuel Quickley’s film, good and bad, a third of the way through the Knicks’ season

Sure, Immanuel Quickley has been a dynamo thus far and looks like the biggest steal of the 2020 draft. But what exactly has led to his success, and what does he need to work on to reach his ceiling? Zach Diluzio dives into Quickley’s film to find some answers.

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It's incredible to watch Immanuel Quickley right now. He's a gift from the basketball gods, wrapped in paper plastered with the word "Potential" in size 56 font.

His box scores are impressive enough, and plenty of effort has already been put towards analyzing that aspect of his game — our own Derek Reifer did an excellent job breaking this down already — but the intrigue of Quickley as a player runs deep. Defenses have already begun gearing their entire defense towards him after seeing what he's put on tape so far this season. This is gravity, and it's something the Knicks haven't had since Carmelo Anthony.

The interesting thing about gravity, though, is that gravity is different for each and every player. Some guys have gravity off the ball. Other guys have gravity closer to the rim. Some guys have gravity in the corners, but none above the break. The most impactful gravity, though, comes from pick-and-roll acuity, plus a dash of off-the-dribble shooting — the Steph Curry and Damian Lillard archetype. That stuff breaks defenses. And yet here we are, a quarter through the season, watching Quickley get that kind of attention when he’s rolling:

 
 

Look how far the Blazers come out! Even Enes Kanter, 20 feet away, is shifted that way in preparation for a possible contest on the floater. That kind of pull is enough to give Nerlens Noel a free lane to the rim for the finish. Granted, this is partly a result of Kanter's horrific defense, but it does demonstrate the kind of pressure IQ can put on the defense.

That kind of pressure is the critical piece to his projected upside. Gravity of that magnitude exerts pressure when he's off ball as well, and by extension helps the other guys on the floor, too. The mere presence of Quickley, the vaguest threat of him shooting a jumper, is enough to open the floor for the stable of rhinos to stampede to the hoop. This here is easy money for Julius Randle — take one part bad defense from Melo, combine with one part of abandoned help from Derrick Jones, and you’ve got a bucket. Jones, in position to dig down on Randle, is afraid to help thanks to his assignment guarding the red-hot Quickley.

 
 

This is fairly straightforward stuff — I’m guessing most basketball fans know about gravity, even if they’ve never been sure exactly how it manifests. But it’s also an oversimplification — in that game, Quickley was red hot, and the Blazers had nobody who could even dream of containing him. It’s not always going to be perfect — we know Quickley can obliterate a defense when he’s hot, but how does he accentuate his own gravity and use it to help the team? How does he respond when he’s not red-hot? That’s where things get a little more complex.

Finding the balance of scoring and facilitating is a key for all point guards, but this balance is of particular interest for rookies. Learning the ropes of the ongoing tug of war between instincts — pass or shoot, shoot or pass — is part of the reason rookie point guards tend to be just... bad. And as you might expect, Quickley is up and down on this front. You'll get stuff like this, where IQ makes a great read, in rhythm, to create a high percentage shot:

 
 

But you'll also get stuff like this — right play, wrong time. An extra dribble towards the paint creates an easier lob angle and almost certainly creates the lob he was looking for. Instead, it's a turnover. That's normal rookie stuff — hardly concerning — but it's there, and it has to be ironed out. These kinds of plays are why some coaches (cough cough) hate playing rookies!

 
 

That kind of decision making can be ironed out easily — as Quickley adjusts to the speed of the game, the speed of his teammates, and how opponents play him, I expect these kinds of mistakes to more or less disappear. The real point of inflection with Quickley revolves around the subtler aspects of point guard play. Running the offense — feeling your way as you pick your spots and play off other talented players — is required learning for any potential franchise point guard. This particular skill isn't always mandatory, but it should be for Quickley, as mastery of it provides a path towards his highest possible upside. This does require working out some ingrained habits and altering muscle memories. Instincts start to backfire, and the inability to trust those same instincts leads to hesitancy. It’s a tough line to walk.

You can often see this exact issue play out with Quickley. Sometimes, if you look close enough, you can even catch him at the exact moment he realizes he's holding onto the ball for too long:

 
 

Other times, what works for Quickley feels disconnected from the rest of the team. Player movement seems to be limited to those directly involved in the IQ pick-and-roll, which is a common symptom of a poor offensive pulse and another hallmark of rookie point guards. This is a more nebulous idea, an idea that is inherently difficult to quantify and simplify — after all, Quickley can dominate the game without mastering this particular aspect of the game. Nonetheless, these issues are still there, hidden just below the surface.

We can see an isolated example of this imbalance on this play here:

 
 

The initial pass here is to Alec Burks, not Taj Gibson, and missing that simple read hamstrings the possession. Focus on Terrence Mann, guarding Burks, who helps on the pick-and-roll to disrupt Quickley. This is a result of the respect he’s earned, and is a step in the right direction! If Quickley can read that help and make the simple pass to Burks, he can take advantage of Mann's defensive commitment and create a drive-and-kick situation (with Quickley's gravity kickstarting all of it). Instead, Quickley is contained by that help and instinctually reverses the ball back to Taj. Now the brief advantage is gone, and on top of that, only three guys were involved in the play. This sort of thing is a little too common right now, and I suspect it's part of the reason Thibs refuses to start Quickley.

Again, I have to reiterate — this kind of stuff is hard! It takes time. But it's something to monitor long term, at least as long as we continue to agonize over Quickley’s status as a starter.

On the other end, Quickley has been... solid. He makes mistakes, but it's hard to consider him a complete liability on defense. He's thin and clearly lacks strength, and he can be a little... jittery... but he leverages his length well and clearly knows what he's doing. Really, he's frustratingly inconsistent more than anything — this rookie shit is truly inevitable.

I could pull a bunch of plays showcasing the bad defense — screwing up his own positioning, leaning the wrong way at the wrong time and giving up leverage, or falling asleep and providing an easy target for a back screen. But that’s not particularly insightful. Instead, I wanted to show the most important thing you can ask for from a young player — recognition.

Fourth quarter, close game against a true balls-to-the-wall contender in the Clippers. Ty Lue, an underrated and savvy coach, has watched Quickley torch his team all afternoon and decides it’s time to make him pay on the other end. Weapon of choice? Using Lou Williams, who Quickley is guarding, as the primary screener on ball. The same ball being held by Kawhi Leonard, one of the biggest, baddest motherfuckers in the entire league. Since the coverage here is a hedge, Quickley's objective here is containment. If he allows Kawhi to get middle, the coverage is busted. That, uh, didn't work out too well. This play is over the second Kawhi turns the corner.

 
 

That's a tough spot for Quickley to be in, but the weak effort on the hedge shows a core misunderstanding of the called defense. Not great, and the type of shit that absolutely drives Thibs insane. That said, mistakes happen, and defense is complicated — what I want to see is learning, not perfection. So, when the Clippers go to the same exact play on the very next possession...

 
 

THIS IS GROWTH. This is exactly what you want to see from any player in the NBA, let alone a rookie. Instead of giving a token effort, Quickley shows hard, and the subsequent deflection blows up the entire play. This doesn’t force a turnover, but it does force Kawhi to go get the ball, and by extension buys enough time for RJ to recover, which is exactly the point of a hedge. Beautiful! Learning! Yes!

I don’t mean to be a miser — Quickley has been a staggering surprise and a perpetual source of brilliance amidst a brilliant season (relatively). It's just important to remember that there are limitations. After all, despite everything… he’s still a rookie.

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The Butterfly Effect: Has Immanuel Quickley unexpectedly become the Knicks’ best asset?