Myles Turner is playing bigger than ever

On the action he's suddenly grown into and the difference change can make.

By Caitlin Cooper I @C2_Cooper

February ended in a much different place for Myles Turner than where it started last season. A year ago, Turner didn't play for the Pacers during the calendar's shortest month, instead, sitting out the final 39 games of the season with a stress reaction in his left foot. And yet, even prior to when he sustained that injury, he was floundering a bit, averaging just 9.7 points and 5.9 rebounds during January while misfiring on 21 of his 24 three-point attempts and recording more turnovers (9) than assists (8).

Maybe some of that was a product of the impending trade deadline, which seemed sure to bring changes but was also shrouded in uncertainty as to what exactly those changes would be. It's also possible that, with the way in which the roster was stuck together with paper clips and glue amid the omicron surge and frenzy to find replacement players, he was impacted by the proliferation of makeshift lineups and unfamiliar faces. Whatever the case, there were moments where he just seemed … lost. In that regard, for a player who had publicly gone on record saying, "I'm not valued as anything more than a glorified role player," this possession was confusing, to say the least.

For context, this Iverson set, starting with a cut over the top from wing-to-wing that flows into an empty ball screen, is a staple of any Rick Carlisle playbook and features multiple options and scoring opportunities. If the initial read to score or hit the roller isn't there, the ball gets swung back to the other side of the floor into a step up screen for the original ball-handler to attack against a shifted defense. Overall, it should be thought of as a suggested outline, not a firm itinerary.

But, watch Turner. When the Cavs switch the empty ball screen, rather than using a quick swim move and asserting himself, he demurs, treating himself like a glorified role player while literally pointing for the choreography to progress as stipulated.

To a certain degree, that screenshot is emblematic of the disconnect that existed in spurts over the first seven years of his career with regard to his own agency, or lack thereof, in turning the job he had into the job he wanted. Granted, he isn't playing at his preferred five spot, but the player who is playing at his preferred five spot also isn't preventing him from establishing position -- nor is anyone else. He just has a hard time finding his own usage. Or, at least, he used to.

Five weeks ago, though, the Pacers did something that rarely, if ever, happened the last time he started at solo five, let alone last season. Take a look. Playing the Bulls in what was the seventh game in a stretch of 10 without Tyrese Haliburton, the first play after halftime featured Buddy Hield as the screener, though not in his normal role as a stack-screener in pick-and-roll or ghosting for the ball and slipping into space. Instead, with the team in need of other modes and entry points of offense while attempting to forge ahead in the absence of Haliburton, Hield set an angled back screen for Turner to slide to the block, deliberately searching for an advantageous post-up opportunity.

And, here's the thing: It was actually advantageous. Even without generating a switch, Turner played big against an opposing big, facing up and making patient use of foot fakes to jab to his left before stepping through to finish with his right.

A few minutes later, the Pacers went back to the same action, with Hield again setting the wedge screen for Turner. Except, this time, when his defender got snagged, he merely curled to the rim, showcasing the impact Hield wields with his gravity as a screener, as Patrick Williams refuses to stray from within an arm's reach.

Since then, the sightings of Hield screening for Turner have become more prevalent -- as have the reads within the action. For example, in contrast to when he deferred last season against Cleveland, watch how he stays engaged, not only sliding down to the post but also sealing against the front and continuing in his effort to make himself a target through the subsequent cross screen. With time, opposing centers will likely come to learn that he tends to fake over his left shoulder when operating out of the right block in order to turn middle with his jump-shot. But also, he has a go-to move when operating out of the right block against opposing centers.

Let that sink in.

Of course, it begs pointing out that this is a play specifically run for Turner, whereas the Iverson set, in a sense, is a play run for everyone. Still, he's adjusting in real-time to how he's being covered and that's a change from last season.

Here, for example, when Orlando switches the wedge screen, he doesn't just abort the mission, he pops back out to three, searching for his shot. Then, when he doesn't have airspace, he continues to assert himself, diving to the block and finishing with a soft touch without allowing the change in defender to phase him.

Going from a guard to a wing? No problem.

Through 53 games played, Turner has made twice as many hook shots (21) as he attempted last season (10). Sure, some of that is opportunity, given that he's also averaging more post-ups, but part of the reason he's averaging more post-ups is because he's decided he's going to average more post-ups.

In what was the final game of February, all of this came full circle on Tuesday night against the Dallas Mavericks, when in contrast to when he pointed for the ball to be reversed away from the switch he could've crunched, he could be seen gesturing for a screen so he could face-up and look his liked-sized opposition directly in the eyes.

To that point, what's started clicking for Turner isn't just the change in context. It's also his change in recognition and mentality, with each begetting the other.

All of which is to say that, while there are certainly other areas where Turner has excelled over the last month, averaging 21.4 points and 8.8 rebounds while blocking two shots and knocking down two threes per game, it's through the lens of this one action, being a wedge screen, that he has grown into playing bigger than ever.

In playing with his back to the basket against guards and turning to face up against bigs, either driving his shoulders past theirs to beat them to a spot or unleashing a counter move in the opposite direction, he's becoming everything it didn't seem like he'd be last February and, perhaps, with 19 games left to play, even more.