Sielski: Sixers can't let their fear get in Embiid's way
You looked mostly at their feet, of course. The 76ers concluded practice Monday with an unusual drill, one that was less about structure and repetition than it was about the pure pleasure of being in the midst of a potentially singular basketball talent. Joel Embiid was the only player to participate, and because he was, it was natural, while watching the drill, to keep your eyes on everyone's feet.
You looked mostly at their feet, of course. The 76ers concluded practice Monday with an unusual drill, one that was less about structure and repetition than it was about the pure pleasure of being in the midst of a potentially singular basketball talent. Joel Embiid was the only player to participate, and because he was, it was natural, while watching the drill, to keep your eyes on everyone's feet.
The drill went like this: Embiid would stand at midcourt and catch an outlet pass from someone, and five members of the Sixers' staff - assistant coaches, trainers, doctors - would dash down the floor as if they were getting back on defense after a missed shot. Once Embiid had the ball, he had carte blanche in a one-on-five situation as the staff members sprinted past him and tried to array themselves in something resembling a competent defensive alignment.
On the first run-through, Embiid dribbled unimpeded to the basket and threw down a thunderous dunk. On the second - with a new group of staffers waiting for him - he got to the rim for a left-handed layup. On the third, he pulled up to shoot a three-pointer from the top of the key. The drill was loose. It was fun. There was laughter. And after Embiid's missing more than two years of action because of a broken bone in his right foot, there was also this unshakable thought that having him sprint through a thicket of nonprofessional basketball players - guys who weren't as nimble on their toes as, say, the younger, better-conditioned men on the Sixers' roster - wasn't the safest way to ensure he'd make it to Wednesday's regular-season opener against the Oklahoma City Thunder. Yet the implicit message of the drill was obvious: Living in fear is no way to live at all, and the Sixers are past the point of worrying about the structural integrity of Embiid's right foot every second he's on the court.
"I have to be. I have to be," coach Brett Brown said. "We're so responsible with how we use him and play him, and anytime people fall down or something, it's like us with children. They go out for the night, and you're nervous, but they go out for the night. And he plays basketball for the living, so he plays. We've just got to keep putting him in responsible environments and monitoring his minutes."
Through their seven preseason games, the Sixers did a commendable job of resisting the temptation to play Embiid too much. He averaged just less than 15 minutes a game, his workload increasing gradually each time out, but the limits they placed and will place on him are a function more of his need to get in proper cardiovascular shape for an 82-game season. Those restrictions are not about any lingering concern that he might reinjure his right foot, and even Embiid's teammates, those who stand to benefit most from his presence, recognize that they do him and themselves no benefit by tiptoeing around him during practice. They won't foul him intentionally, won't take a needless risk out of overwrought intensity during a run-of-the-mill two hours in the gym. But they can't baby him, either, because no one else in the NBA will.
"I think it's a little bit of both," point guard T.J. McConnell said. "When it's live, you want to win, and that competitiveness takes over. But then you see him go up in the air, and you don't want to do anything stupid. . . .
"We all know what Joel is going to do for this team, and not to sound brutal or anything, but that doesn't mean we're going to take it lightly on him. The players he's about to play against on Wednesday, like Steven Adams - he's not going to take it easy on him."
Understand: Until Embiid finishes this season without another setback - if he does - every jump ball or contested rebound will be cause for a lump to form in someone's throat. Embiid's past and the fatalistic nature of Philadelphia's sports culture will keep that dread fresh throughout this season. Nevertheless, the Sixers themselves can't act with that same trepidation, not if they want Embiid to develop into a superstar. They have to free him. It's the only way for him to flourish.
That truth cuts to the core of the other obvious aspect of the drill with which they closed practice Monday: Embiid was the only player to participate in it because he was the only player on the roster capable of participating in it. What, you think Brown would be happy with Nik Stauskas or Robert Covington going one-on-five against even a CYO team? Hell, no. But Embiid's skills are so transcendent that the drill has value beyond the kicks and giggles it might provide at the end of a long practice. It replicates a realistic scenario for the Sixers this season: Embiid, all 7-foot-2 and 276 pounds of him, in the open floor, with the ball in his hands, with no restrictions on what he can do.
"I've been doing that in the games, too," Embiid said. "That's something I've been working on. I've always thought I was a point guard."
It was a funny line, and it was laced with all those expectations that the Sixers have for Embiid and that he has for himself. He thinks he can do anything, and within reason, the Sixers will be damned if they will quell that belief with too much caution and anxiety over something that they can't control. Forget the feet. Forget the fear. Just watch and enjoy what Joel Embiid can do.
@MikeSielski