Miles Bridges Breakdown, Part 1
[Disclaimer: So, the length got out of hand. Part 1 here will cover Bridges’ physical traits and their applications. Part 2 will deal with the “other” side of his game - feel, ambidexterity, passing, process, some microskills, and then a grand conclusion. Look out for that soon. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy what I covered here.]
- Table of Contents -
Intro (just below)
Change of Direction
The Skill
Usage & Applications
Strength
Usage & Applications
Verticality
Strengths & Weaknesses
Usage & Applications
So, it’s been a long time. Sorry, I’ve been busy. The good type of busy, so no worries.
There’s a pointed question I’ve enjoy receiving - how do I choose a player to breakdown, to commit dozens of hours to? An intriguing stat? A points per game leap? A guy with cool highlights who’s a joy to watch? Well, yes? No? Kind of?
Essentially, the players that catch my eye are the ones that teach me something new about the game of basketball, hence containing a lesson for others, too.
When I was much younger, I thought that the recipe for concocting the best player ever was quite simple - electric athleticism and long-range marksmanship. The more I learned about basketball, the more I realized that there existed more than two scales of utility (feel, anyone?). Moreover, groupings such as “athleticism” are hardly cohesive umbrellas. If you asked young Noah how his ‘perfect player’ would shoot best - off the catch, off the dribble, or off movement - or how he’d be athletic (there are A LOT of stratifications here) - he’d probably just gape at you as his mind worked overtime to procure an answer. Beyond that, though, I learned that there are many important bridges (see what I did there) between such talents and stardom.
Details are important. Wow, I must have come up with that one all on my own. But no, seriously, they are. Being able to conceptualize, identify, and diagnose the details is the good shit. Make sure you don’t miss the forest for the trees, and you’re good to go! Easier said than done I suppose.
So, to make a long story slightly shorter, I arrived at Miles Bridges. Being unable to engage with the early NBA season this time around, Miles’ ppg leap and earth-shattering slam caught my eye. Big guy, jumps high, scores a lot - there’s probably something there. Yet what retained my attention, what ultimately led to the piece that you’re reading, is everything else. In evaluating Miles Bridges, I found cracks where I assumed the ground to be solid and unexpected foundations when digging deep. So, let’s get into it.
Change of Direction
Miles Bridges stands out and in many ways succeeds due to his athletic talents. However, despite what appears to be the mainstream consensus (his leaping ability), I believe Miles Bridges’ best physical trait to be his change of direction.
Bridges’ ability to change directions is elite, as:
His hips are ridiculously fluid for a guy his size, snapping out near-180’s at a moment’s notice.
He’s able to conserve almost all his forward momentum/acceleration while changing directions, often appearing as if he just shot out of a cannon.
The handle is tight.
Simply put, it’s very hard for defenders to maintain balance attempting to re-orientate while backpedaling, and Miles’ quickness brings the margin for error down to zero. Inside that margin - is your weight well-distributed between your feet? Are you stuck in a lengthy movement pattern? Beyond that, additional components comprise this ability’s effectiveness:
Creating pre-existing momentum to leverage - a crossover is ultimately reactive (or proative, then reactive) - if you go right, I’ll go left, and vice versa.
In a similar vein, it’s a marathon, not a sprint - rushing to beat Bridges to the first spot is really just giving him a head-start on the leg to spot two.
Thus, due to the nature of this advantage creation, Bridges’ drives often take zig-zag, jagged paths to the paint.
In order to fully analyze how Miles’ change-of-direction manifests itself into play-by-play production, I decided to make a video:
However, Bridges, like all other players, can’t thrive in every context. When starting from complete standstill, with his defender conceding a conservative gap, Bridges can often struggle. The issue is that such situations saddle Bridges with too many decisions to make in regards to creation. Charting that zig-zag path - how to close the gap, how to create momentum in his defender, how to counter it, and where the drive ends - requires more calibration than Bridges is capable of on short notice.
Below, another standstill attempt goes nowhere:
Bridges’ swerving attacks require more space than typical, bursty straight-line drives do, which makes certain floor alignments less conducive to his creation than others.
Here, despite an empty side to play with Bagley, who Bridges had already bested multiple times that game, Miles’ attack fizzles out, and he ends up running into help.
One illustrious play stood out to me:
Here, Miles is drifting right, and instantly dribbles with his right hand off the catch, step one in a likely pre-determined sequence, which I imagine looked something like: “continue my rightward momentum with a hard dribble right so Collins shifts with me, then cross left and attack the paint through the nail”, a process he’s executed countless times before. However, that’s not what happens. Lou Williams stunts, restricting space and causing Miles’ first dribble to be in place, rather than probing right. The manner in which he stops seems to indicate deviation from the initial plan, induced by the stunt. With no set-up move, A. the dribble left covers less ground, B. is slower, relying purely on burst (no hip thrust to help out), and C. Collins is stationary, and can easily cut off Bridges’ drive (ignore Miles trying to power through, losing his balance, and then getting lucky make). This does extremely well to highlight Miles’ limitations, and is probably along the lines of something a team might draw up against Bridges in the Playoffs. The silver lining here is that Lou’s stunt opened a window for an advantage-creating pass to the corner, a counter that can be one-day developed (feel, processing, and passing comes soon in Part 2).
Now, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with such shortcoming. These situations, even for the best of the best of the best, are only marginally advantageous. I simply wanted to illustrate exactly what Bridges is and isn’t. That is, Bridges can thrive in quick-hitting situations, mini-games born out of movement in which his ability to change directions reigns supreme. This clip below best exemplifies this contrast:
Usage & Applications
A way to create these quick-hitting creation opportunities, setting Bridges up for success, is through the use of inverted slide screens. You saw some inverted slide screens pop up in the hips video, but let’s give them our full attention here.
The mental anticipation of, and adjustment to, a screen coming often means moving a bit - bingo! Such actions initiate lateral movement in Bridges’ man, precisely the type of pre-existing momentum that Miles can leverage and attack with his crossover.
Bojan’s fate is sealed the second he slides left, and a predictable sequence ensues (also, notice how Bridges “combines” his last two steps, keeping his left foot planted after taking his first step with it, allowing him to load & explode off two feet into empty airspace before Gobert can react).
Alternatively, the active decision not to move can be equally damning:
(The confusion in Vandy allows Bridges to build up steam, as the first couple steps are essentially “free”, aka not reacted to by the defense. Ignore Bridges’ tunnel vision, in which he seems oblivious to both kickout passes, instead dumping it off to the nearby Plumlee, thwarting the advantage as quick as he birthed it.)
Given Bridges’ good-but-not-great burst, the added runway goes a long way to give him just the nudge he needs to make it to the rim.
As always, a couple things to note here. Miles starts well above the 3-point line, and Randle reasonably decides not to check him all the way out. However, when Rozier sets the slide and Bridges begins to drive, Randle is put in an especially precarious situation, one conducive to indecision, aka opportunity for Bridges. The step that Miles takes to shift into the paint - pushing off his left foot to propel himself left, is uncanny, requiring incredible balance (core stability) and body control. It has an off-beat nature, with the explosion coming off his second step that veers inside, rather than the first step that begins toward the outside - all adding to the funk that makes him a pain to guard. Finally, appreciate the right-foot, right-hand finish.
To avoid such complications, teams might switch. Yet given that smaller players set this screen, a switch can create a colossal mismatch:
Thus, we arrive at hedging, a common practice employed to limit penetration and avoid conceding a mismatch, coming at the cost of a short window of opportunity for the screener, given the ball-handler can thread a pass to him. Especially with Rozier as the screener, hedges can be a source of 3’s when teams try to contain Bridges.
Hedges also offer Bridges moments to leverage his crossover and create advantages, albeit later in the play.
There are a couple noteworthy components of this play. The first is Bridges’ initial counter to the hedge, one that shows a clear comfort against the coverage. Certain poise is showcased by stopping his drive, retreating by crossing through the legs, and then whipping it behind the back, allowing Miles to outlast Trae’s hedge in a controlled fashion, ready to attack Collins once his path is clear (and of course, he does, attacking Collins’ front foot as he steps up). Second is that Miles’ handle accommodates and executes his intentions flawlessly - the handle flawlessly linking intent to action is an incredible indicator for (proprioception, anyone?) what Bridges’ might be capable of in the future. And third is a shortcoming: Bridges picks up his dribble well before breaching the open paint (Trae’s feinted dig might have caused him to pick it up early, but I still think that the pick-up was pre-planned rather than reactive, given that A. Bridges often picks his dribble up too early on drives (to be discussed later) and B. if Bridges was in a reactive state of mind, the natural counter to the dig would have been to pass to Young’s man). The early pick-up prevents Miles from getting to an advantageous spot on the floor (with appropriate agency). Which makes the fourth and final quirk here so exciting: Bridges creates the window for Oubre’s C&S 3 by staring down Plumlee as he drives - watch Hunter, who thinks the pass is going there. Apologize for straying off the theme of hedging, but there was simply too much here.
Another way to leverage Miles’ incredible change of direction is to use him as the trigger man (big) in DHOs. Bridges’ size and leaping ability (to be touched on later) allow him to assume the role of a big from time to time, so it’s a natural fit in certain regards.
These opportunities can come straight from the playbook:
(Notice the finish in the first clip - hopping into a 1-2 gather for an explosive inside-hand finish)
Bridges likes to seek these out himself too, pretending to set up DHOs to create downhill opportunities:
(Catch both finishes coming off two feet here.)
A comprehensive statistical analysis is only coming at the end of part 2. In the meantime, I thought you might like to see some stats that can help capture some of the production from Bridges’ self/space-creation tool:
11 drives per game, with
60% TS on 6.1 TSA (7.4 ppg)
1.6 Unassisted Rim Makes per 75 (2.8 Assisted)
Fouled on 12.1% of shot attempts (81st Percentile)
Short of hand-tracking every Bridges game from this season, no measure will be perfect. However, these stats reinforce things are indeed happening with Bridges off-the-bounce.
(Note: In this article, I cover rim pressure from a purely self-created standpoint and from an off-ball standpoint (as you’ll read soon), but I leave out closeout attacking, which bridges the gap between the two. Thus, I tried to avoid using any comprehensive numbers, as I’ve yet to show the full picture.)
Moving on.
Those quick, jerky hip flips show themselves on defense, too, allowing Bridges to mirror and stay in front of smaller ballhandlers:
(Even guards like Jalen Brunson):
And not to mention, recover from mistakes that would otherwise be damning for most players (in conjunction with his strength, which we’ll discuss shortly):
These clips all feature Miles quickly slipping into disadvantageous positions, not unlike the predicaments he often subjects his own defender to on the other end. But then, through effortless hip swiveling and backpedaling, he’s able to reposition himself between his man and the basket. The graceful balance and control with which Bridges recovers stands out when you consider what happens after. The first two clips see Bridges’ man bump him as he recovers, promptly be met with rock-hard resistance from Miles’ frame, and the fallout from such encounters results in Barnes and Jimmy (!!) stumbling into uneven shot attempts. Bridges’ backpedals being so controlled and balanced, to the point where he can absorb a shoulder or two, is absurd.
Strength
Another physical strength enjoyed by Brides is, well strength. When it comes to strength’s functionality, one can conceptualize it much more linearly than say, shooting (excluding core strength - that’s a world of its own, in large part a facilitator for movement skills). Bridges’ strength is a clear positive, but it’s not that simple. While he may be XXth percentile strong, that strength unlocks various branching abilities. Yet, one stands out from the rest, while also being a grouping for more, specific applications. The central utility of Bridges’ strength is founding his impressive self-organization, coined by the incredible PD Web as:
“A player’s ability to execute a movement pattern regardless of buffeting external stimuli - does a small bump knock them off balance, is novel footwork patterns so much rougher than the well-trained, can a player break and then re-establish rhythm? These all make up self-organization.”
Now, to be honest, I think the way Miles looks, frame and all, overstates his brute strength. To hit the self-organization note again, I see Miles’ strength as more of a defensive tool than a proactive one. Rather than a creation tool on its own, his strength is best utilized as a conduit for his other attributes. It allows him to absorb hits and stay on his path, valuable on both sides of the ball. Let me explain.
I’ll get the simple stuff out of the way - yes, he can body smalls:
(As you watch the second clip, pay attention to that little off-arm swim move Bridges hits Vincent with. Without diving into its legality, it’s a move that Bridges often employs when guys are on his side, adding extra oomph to his swinging shoulder.)
Now we’re getting to the way in which that strength-enhanced self-organization manifests itself on O. One such area is finishing through contact, where Miles is able to sustain collisions with 5’s while executing complicated finishes:
When I described Bridges’ strength as a conduit rather than a creation tool, I was looking in large part at his drives. The following two clips do very well to index how his strength aids his drives, in my eyes:
Neither of these clips have fantastic endings. That’s because Miles is strong to the degree where he can hold his position and trajectory on drives, maintain his driving angle - in both these clips, he plows straight ahead despite significant physical resistance. He cannot, however, when pressed up against his man, forge new, more advantageous driving angles curved towards the rim. When heading downhill Bridges’ driving angles are created and determined solely by what he creates (usually using his hips and handle) at the point of attack on the perimeter.
This ability to “stay on track” shows up in plays like the one below, where, hip-to-hip, Vuc is unable to nudge Bridges off his course:
When Miles overcommits, attempting to dole out large blows, the results are less-than-deal - I’m just not sure if his core is strong enough to keep him on balance when his large frame lurches forward and collides with similarly large frames. Recall this overambitious strength creation attempt from earlier, where Bridges loses his balance trying to plow through Collins (despite the ball ultimately going in):
Toronto might have had Bridges’ lackluster balance while attempting to dislodge defenders in the scouting report, as two different defenders pulled the chair on Miles when he tried to create contact, causing him to lose his balance both times:
This is far from the end of the world, but a limitation to note nonetheless. Improved self-awareness from Bridges moving forward could help “solve” this issue by shelving these types of creation attempts.
However, Bridges can channel his strength towards common “bumps” when doing so in a controlled, measured manner:
Focusing on carving out just a sliver of extra space can go a long way towards unlocking more favorable finishing angles.
On defense, in a more general note, strength thrives. It often matters more than height regarding potential mismatches. It’s not as overlooked as it once was, but I’m still not sure we as a basketball-watching society fully appreciate it just yet. Anyway, this is no different for Miles.
With Bam in the post, Bridges eats his shoulder like it’s nothing, forcing him to turnaround for a fadeaway.
Then, against the noted strength-and-power-merchant Jimmy Butler, Miles once again holds his own, deterring Butler from taking one of his patented almost-at-the-rim shots:
Let’s cap off this section by revisiting some clips from earlier (the first two apply, the third doesn’t). Here, Bridges’ strength helps him cut off his man, absorb a hit, and then continue sliding, undeterred. Good stuff:
Verticality
Working our way down the list, we arrive at leaping. I think that Bridges’ leaping is probably, at the very least, misunderstood (I try to avoid using the word “overrated”, as pinpointing general consensus on anything is nearly impossible, but here is where I imagine the word might fit). Hear me out: I know that Miles is probably known in part for his thunderous slams, the likes of which most definitely grace your timeline on the regular. I’m not here to argue that they don’t impress - they do - but when you step outside the highlight reels and into the play-by-play, a different picture gets painted.
Now, while you enjoy some eye candy, try to pay attention to how Bridges loads before jumping.
Well, the first thing that should stick out is that Bridges is a 2-foot leaper, not a 1-foot guy. Ok, noted. For reference, examine the lift off one, in as free an in-game environment as you could realistically ask for:
It’s clearly not the same, a deficiency which isn’t out of the question, given his bulk. Anyway, back to two:
Miles’ preferred loading technique begins with a running start, then stepping 1-2 into his 2-footed stance before finally rocketing upwards. Given such a runway, the only thing he needs to worry about is hitting his head on the rim:
However, a significant vertical drop-off exists when Bridges doesn’t have much time or space to load. While all players obviously benefit from a runway, it’s important to understand that Miles is a fundamentally different leaper with and without it:
However, Miles’ leaping prowess operates more along a scale than with a simple on-off switch. Getting him better runways will get him more verticality. Beyond offering time to accelerate, larger runways can accommodate more steps, allowing for that 1-2 load. So, let’s discuss the scenarios in which Miles’ verticality thrives.
Usage & Applications
Two-foot launches, multiple steps, and built-up momentum, which all help Miles supercharge his jumps, are all easier to achieve without the ball in one’s hands. Now consider Bridges’ thick, 6’7, 225-pound frame. Sounds like a guy who can set some picks a rim-run a bit, no?
Yes, I think he can. But Bridges adds an important dynamism to his rolls. Some bigs are one-trick ponies as rollers - it’s “spoonfeed them a layup or bust”. Such unidimensionality…
(no Powell slander intended, I simply had to pick on a big)
not only translates to fewer shot attempts but also makes a player easier to guard. Yet, Miles is still a wing, with likewise agility and movement skill. By getting low and channeling his bounce horizontally, he’s able to efficiently finish possessions as a roller even when catching the ball farther from the restricted area. Defenses usually concede a runway, as the midpost area is rarely the pick-up point for rollers:
(As a side note: given what the Hornet’s center situation was this past year, I think Miles got a solid share of roller reps - these are more than just flashes):
The other way to accommodate off-ball loads and weaponize Bridges’ vertical pop is through cuts. Due to his size, which allows him to rise up and finish from a standstill anywhere on the court, his cuts are more than “stealing bunnies while no one’s looking” - rather, merely occupying space near the rim is a threat:
Yet what impressed me most was Miles’ feel when cutting.
He cuts deliberately, keeping a close eye on the defense and waiting for openings. Stationed in the slots, Miles waits patiently for his man to overplay the gap, then cuts, creating shots for teammates:
He’s especially lethal cutting from the weakside corner, punishing the tag man for helping on the pick-and-roll with loud slams:
I find this cut to be especially lethal, as defenses are now somewhat comfortable with the skip pass. But, what they’re not comfortable with is a hunk of muscle crashing the party at full-speed - most weakside taggers can tag to prevent the lob, not tag to prevent the lob while juggling another lob threat behind them.
Bridges’ tendency to follow the play meticulously best shows up on these “follow” cuts. Here, regardless of his starting spot, Miles watches the play develop, crashing into the paint as soon as chaos starts to unfold for easy buckets:
An uncommon but very potent application for Miles’ size advantage is seals. He’s generally very good at seeking out lob opportunities:
The two seals above, both performed against significantly smaller players, could one day serve as an important chess piece, punishing mismatches with a small off the ball.
These off-ball maneuvers are absolutely awesome, allowing Bridges to add complementary, ceiling-raising value off-the-ball. I just wish we’d see a bit more. There are several ways to measure production here (take into account that the first two will include some transition attempts):
Off 0 Dribbles: 2.1 2PA - 81.2%
Touch Time < 2: 3.0 2PA - 73.8%
Synergy Cuts + P&R Roll Man: 2.4 Possessions - 3.1 Points (1.3 PPP)
While the efficiency is nuclear, the volume is relatively low (in general; it’s actually quite high among other “wings”). I’d like to see the volume increase next season - yes, these points come in a complimentary manner, so a lot hinges on how the coach staff runs the offense, aligns the floor, and when opportunist creases open. But I think the important point is that Bridges can seamlessly scale certain additive aspects of his game.
I’ve hit my arbitrary limit of 4k words, so Part 1 ends here. As a small teaser of what’s to come, examine a clip of Miles driving, taking his steps, and leaping off 1:
Somewhat below-the-rim finishing.
As always, thank you for reading, and props to you for making it to the end. If you enjoyed, I’d really appreciate a share on Twitter (via a retweet, quote tweet, or whatnot) - it helps me out a ton. Be on the lookout for Part 2, where I’ll cover the mental side of Miles Bridges. We discussed his physical tools, but the process of applying those tools - not to mention his feel, unique ambidexterity, passing, microskills, and more - are equally important and on the menu for Part 2. Oh, and there’s also a synthesized grand conclusion in there somewhere - be on the lookout.