Lowe: Anthony Edwards is special, time is running out in Phoenix and here come the Houston Rockets

Anthony Edwards has stepped up for the Minnesota Timberwolves with Karl-Anthony Towns sidelined. Rob Gray/USA TODAY Sports

This week, we look at what we've learned about Anthony Edwards' game (spoiler alert: it's special) with Karl-Anthony Towns sidelined, how the Phoenix Suns might be running out of time and why the Houston Rockets would like your attention.

Jump to Lowe's Things:
Ant is special | Suns running out of time
Micic emerging in Charlotte | Here come the Rockets
Does Fultz fit in Orlando? | Wiseman finding some rhythm
Can Ivey and Cade work? | A cool NBA taunt
When jersey colors become too much | LeVert's playmaking

1. Anthony Edwards wants it all

OK, the dunk. My god, the dunk. Edwards planted just inside the foul line. He didn't quite leap over Utah Jazz forward John Collins, but if you freeze the dunk at the right moment, it doesn't look too far from that.

It was an act of thunderous basketball violence that is still reverberating. Every time Edwards catches the ball with momentum, you sense some ineffable danger. The crowd murmurs with a strange mix of excitement and fear. Some opposing players between Edwards and the basket must feel some fear too. Imagine being one of Edwards' teammates and sensing that -- how it would embolden you.

Edwards has breathed fire into the Wolves in the absence of Karl-Anthony Towns, Rudy Gobert and Naz Reid.

Minnesota is 4-3 since losing Towns to a meniscus injury. One loss came in overtime. A second came down to the last shot against the Denver Nuggets, with Minnesota splitting center minutes between Kyle Anderson and Luka Garza. These Wolves have resourcefulness and steel to them.

They have wallopped teams by 14 points per 100 possessions in about 550 minutes when Edwards and Gobert play and Towns sits. What was once a feature of their nightly rotation is now their template for survival.

With Towns sidelined, Edwards could have hoarded the offense -- hunted the spectacular while rationalizing that his team needed him to shoot more. Instead, he has put forth some of the cleanest passing of his career.

Take this three-possession sequence against the Jazz on Monday -- three consecutive pick-and-rolls with Garza on the left side:

Walker Kessler leaves Garza to corral Edwards in the paint; Edwards reads that and hooks a pass back to Garza after two dribbles.

Take two:

Having seen Utah's coverage once, Edwards is confident he can rock Kessler backward, split defenders and plow forward.

Take three:

Kessler ventures out higher; Edwards accelerates around him, draws an extra layer of defense and waits for cutters.

That's the same play three times in 60 seconds, with Edwards making three different reads and producing three different results -- all profitable.

Advanced playmaking need not be fancy -- not when you can score like Edwards, and draw so much attention.

When Edwards makes the simple pass, Minnesota's offense hums. Everyone is involved. The ball often makes its way back to Edwards, who can then attack a backpedaling defense in flux.

Edwards is doing this more, seeing it result in wins and high-scoring totals for him. The feedback cycle is flowing.

The Wolves need Towns to make a deep playoff run. His shooting is oxygen. He raises their ceiling where it needs to be to win two or more rounds. Any Finals team needs a few easy wins along the postseason road -- games in which you take luck out of the equation. A hot shooting game from Towns combined with Minnesota's relentless defense is their most reasonable blowout path.

Imagine some of those swing-swing sequences Edwards is triggering more ending in Towns 3s or Gobert dunks. Maybe Edwards is imagining that too -- or being pushed by his coaches to do so. Good teams learn about themselves when they are short-handed. The Wolves are learning more about Edwards every game, and what they see is special.


2. When the Phoenix Suns lose the flow

The Suns' offense is fine -- on paper, at least -- and probably in reality against most teams. They righted the ship and moved into a tie with the Dallas Mavericks for No. 6 in the West with home wins this week over the remains of the Philadelphia 76ers and Atlanta Hawks. (Dallas owns the tie-breaker.) Phoenix has scored 123 points per 100 possessions with Kevin Durant, Bradley Beal and Devin Booker on the floor -- about a point above the Boston Celtics' No. 1-ranked offense. The Suns' issues have been injuries, defense and depth -- probably in that order.

But on sour nights, there are too many possessions like this. Keep your eyes on Beal in the right corner. You won't have trouble tracking him:

The Suns scored 129 points in that game against the Milwaukee Bucks -- their fourth loss to an elite team in a two-week span. (The Suns are 19-20 against teams above .500). They lost because they gave up 140. Their superstars are so talented, the Suns can win playing stagnant isolation basketball.

But you wonder about the toll of these sorts of possessions. They are evidence of a disconnected team -- at least in that moment. Does that lack of connectivity -- of spirit -- bleed into defense? You can play disconnected yet efficient offense. Disconnected defenses are dead on arrival.

Beal has Damian Lillard on him during that yawn of a possession. The whole point of this enterprise is for Beal to bring Lillard into the orbit of either Booker or (even better, because of the size mismatch) Durant. Set a screen! Cut! Do something! Why aren't Booker and Durant calling him up for picks? Why aren't the coaches yelling?

What makes this lifelessness doubly frustrating is that Phoenix has halves and games in which it strikes the right balance.

In the playoffs -- if the Suns get there -- you face the best defenses. You can't afford to make things easier for them by playing stationary, predictable offense -- even if you have superstar talent. It chips away at your margin for error. You will generate fewer 3s and shots at the rim -- already a (slight) issue for Phoenix.

The Suns' three stars have played only 29 games together. Maybe time is all they need to rediscover their collective verve. Time, though, runs short.


3. One fun thing in Charlotte

The Charlotte Hornets doubling as the Oklahoma City Blue has returned Aleksej Pokusevski to our lives and given us Vasilije Micic unleashed. Micic is the league's oldest rookie at 30, drafted 10 years ago as a stash guy by the Process Philadelphia 76ers. The Thunder acquired him in Philly's Al Horford salary dump, and Micic finally arrived after developing into one of the best players in the EuroLeague.

Given Micic's contract -- three years, $23.5 million with a team option -- it was clear he was partly a trade asset; the Thunder indeed included him in their deal for Gordon Hayward.

Micic had moments when it looked like he might emerge as part of Oklahoma City's bench rotation in a secondary connector role. He has more control of the offense in Charlotte, and it turns out Micic can score some in the NBA -- including with a shoulder-checking mean streak:

Micic is shooting 57% on 2s and averaging 12 points with the Hornets -- with four 20-plus outings in Charlotte's past eight games. He is a very clever passer.

Micic is shooting only 29% on 3s; he was so-so from the EuroLeague's shorter line. Point-of-attack defense is a challenge, though being 6-foot-5 helps. But Micic can stick as a solid backup.


4. Amen Thompson and the Houston Rockets would like your attention

You thought the play-in loser's bracket was the worst-case scenario for the Los Angeles Lakers and Golden State Warriors? The Rockets have won nine of 10, creeping 1½ games from the Warriors and putting both starry heavyweights one mini-slump from oblivion.

The hot stretch started before Alperen Sengun suffered a leg injury, but the Rockets have kept winning without him -- in part because Thompson has exploded in Sengun's starting spot. Jabari Smith Jr. -- a winning player, period -- guards opposing centers now, but Thompson has absorbed Sengun's role as pick-and-roll screener for Fred VanVleet and the scorching Jalen Green.

Thompson's nonexistent jumper -- he's 8-of-52 on 3s -- does less harm to Houston's spacing when he's in the action as a screener. He can dart to the rim for vicious dunks and scooping layups, and he's a canny passer on the move. Thompson thrives along the recesses of the baseline, cutting for slams, leaping for put-backs and touching nifty interior dimes. He's a menace in transition.

Thompson is a strong 6-foot-7 and has emerged already as one of the best and most versatile perimeter defenders in the league. He is feisty and smart, with hands that swipe in a blur:

Thompson stays down on Kyle Kuzma's pump fake, then disabuses Kuzma of the notion of even trying to drive. Kuzma dishes to Deni Avdija, goes to set a screen and tries to trick Thompson by slipping out of the pick early. Nope.

It's unclear how Thompson and Sengun fit. Sengun lives mostly in the paint; he's a below-average jump-shooter with a slow release and a habit of taking one-legged flamingo shots for no reason. (To be clear, I am pro-flamingo shot. Weird is good.)

Thompson doesn't really function as a lead ball handler -- it's tough sledding without a proven jumper -- and the Rockets have Green and VanVleet for that. Dillon Brooks is the designated wing stopper.

Presuming a full recovery from leg surgery, Tari Eason is coming for a starting spot. Cam Whitmore has earned minutes. Houston has seven potential young building blocks. Part of the fun is figuring out which combinations work best, and which might never work well.


5. Have the (very good) Orlando Magic evolved beyond Markelle Fultz?

Fultz averaged 14 points last season and hit 47% on midrangers. He even shot 27-of-87 -- 31% -- on 3s. Defenses sagged way off of Fultz, but he made up for it by eating up space with slippery zig-zag moves and hesitation dribbles -- and threading slick interior passes from weird angles. Fultz becoming a back-end starting point guard didn't seem unfeasible.

Fultz's place on the Magic now seems precarious. Fultz has missed half the season because of knee issues, and the Magic moved on without him. He's a backup now; Orlando's revamped starting five -- Jalen Suggs, Gary Harris, Franz Wagner, Paolo Banchero, Wendell Carter Jr. -- is plus-56 in 191 minutes. (Banchero gets better and more well-rounded every night -- a budding superstar.)

Harris -- Fultz's replacement -- doesn't do much heavy lifting, but he's a threat from deep and defends hard. That's all Orlando needs with Wagner, Banchero and Suggs handling the ball. That group with Cole Anthony in Harris' spot is one of Orlando's most intriguing lineups. (Harris left Orlando's rout of the New Orleans Pelicans on Thursday night early with a sore right foot.)

Fultz is duplicative on bench units. Anthony and Joe Ingles split ballhandling duties in those lineups, and the Magic might keep one of Wagner and Banchero on the floor when the games really matter. Fultz just isn't that useful away from the ball:

He has backslid to 38% on midrangers and is 1-of-11 on 3s. Fultz plays hard and makes small positive plays -- extra passes, hustle rebounds, flare screens. He's a popular teammate. His role grows murkier as the Magic surge.

Meanwhile, Jonathan Isaac might be the single most interesting backup in the NBA -- and the best per-minute defender. The Magic's defense ratchets to a rare level -- in intensity and execution -- when Isaac and Suggs play together. It's a little unnerving. Orlando has allowed 98.4 points per 100 possessions in 109 minutes with that duo on the floor -- 10 points stingier than Minnesota's top-ranked defense. Isaac is on a nice run from deep and looks more confident overall on offense.

Suggs and Isaac are a frenzy of fast feet, reaching arms and anticipatory movements. You almost hear their defense -- a continuous roar. What they did to Charlotte on Tuesday -- the Hornets trailed 67-26 and had 31 points at halftime -- should be illegal in all 50 states.

Fultz is a solid defender, but the Magic, No. 3 in points allowed per possession, have plenty of those.

Fultz is an unrestricted free agent this summer.


6. The Detroit Pistons, finding some tic-tac-toe rhythm

James Wiseman has looked semi-playable lately, including double-digit points in four of Detroit's past eight games. His turnover rate is still way too high, but at least he's recording an assist now and then; he has 40 assists and 43 turnovers compared to an almost impossibly awful 16 assists and 37 cough-ups with the Pistons last season.

Wiseman is way behind on the fundamentals of big-man defense. On an average team, that would render him an emergency third center. Wiseman's entry to the NBA was a perfect storm of bad: three college games, a pandemic, and joining a veteran-heavy team that runs on feel. It's no wonder Wiseman has struggled.

The Warriors selecting him No. 2 in 2020 is one of the great what-ifs in recent history. Forget the other players Golden State could have picked. What veteran could it have snared by trading that pick?

The Warriors' dual lottery selections in the next draft -- Jonathan Kuminga and Moses Moody -- are working out fine on balance. They nailed last year's draft with Brandin Podziemski and Trayce Jackson-Davis. But even the hits took three-plus years to materialize -- three years in which the foundational stars aged. That risk was baked into the two-timelines strategy -- a trough between timelines. The Warriors won a title in one of those years, largely on the backs of their veterans -- plus one discarded first-round pick in Jordan Poole.

You just wonder how much shallower that trough might have been had the Warriors turned Wiseman into someone who was ready to win on Stephen Curry's timetable.

The Pistons have found one fun way to get Wiseman shots:

The goal of that pick-and-roll is a lob to Wiseman, but the wrinkle is that the ballhandler -- Marcus Sasser here -- is not the lob thrower. If that pick-and-roll draws Wiseman's defender out, Sasser's pings the ball to a release valve -- someone with a better passing angle to Wiseman.

The easy solution is to go under screens, so that Wiseman's defender can stay home. That's always an interesting debate against poor shooting teams. Ducking picks is the safer choice, but it exposes some things. Blitzing seems like overkill, but nail the rotations, and you end up directing the ball to bad shooters behind the arc.


7. Can Jaden Ivey mesh with Cade Cunningham?

Let's give Detroit two items; we'll bid them farewell soon enough. This is one of at least two definitional questions for Detroit's interminable rebuild. The other is whether Jalen Duren can figure out NBA defense and how long that takes.

The Pistons should have Mark Bryant, their big-man coach, live with Duren in the offseason and spend every day watching film and drilling every variation of traditional pick-and-roll defense. (Duren has the speed to switch, but let's grasp the basics first.) Bryant did wonders for (among others) Deandre Ayton in Phoenix. It's easy to forget now, but Ayton's mega-leap on defense was a major reason the Suns made the 2021 Finals.

(Ayton has played quite well over the past few weeks for the Portland Trail Blazers, though he is still allergic to the foul line. No one has really noticed because Portland is losing. Ayton does not help himself with blather about "Domin-ayton" and being an ironclad max player.)

The stylistic clash between Cunningham and Ivey was part of the appeal -- Cunningham as the half-court chessmaster, Ivey flying into gaps and motoring in transition: thunder and lightning. The unattainable ideal was something like what Luka Doncic and Kyrie Irving have with the Dallas Mavericks. The Mavs belong to Doncic, but Irving is always lurking on the wing -- ready to fire 3s or slice into diagonal alleyways. Doncic has adapted to Irving's pace in transition.

Of course, both of those guys are good to great 3-point shooters with a sensible roster around them. Cunningham's shot appears to be coming around; he's up to 35% on 3s and 48% on long 2s.

Ivey is down to 32.8% from deep. Nobody even pretends to guard him outside. When Cunningham turns the corner, this is what he sees:

In theory, Ivey should knife into that gap between Jimmy Butler and Nikola Jovic. But that gap is an illusion. Miami is concerned with only one Detroit shooter -- Simone Fontecchio, on the left wing. Ivey will run into more bodies and kick to another non-shooter.

The Pistons haven't learned enough about Ivey this season -- in part because coach Monty Williams did not give him the reins on second units until recently. He's averaging just 3.8 assists, down from 5.2 last season (when Cunningham was out for all but 12 games.) His decision-making is scattershot -- energy blasting out in every direction. What is he?


8. An actually cool NBA taunt

Some NBA taunts are overdone; the "too small" gesture is at risk of jumping the shark. Some individual taunts -- think of Joel Embiid's, umm, lower-body chopping motion -- are derived from elsewhere. Others cannot be replicated by anyone beyond the main user; Stephen Curry's "night-night" belongs to him alone.

But we have seen a selective uptick in one fun generic taunt: players aiming the "T" timeout sign at an opposing bench to punctuate a scoring run: Time to stop the game, suckers! Curry mimed it at the Lakers bench during Golden State's massive road win Saturday. The usually staid Al Horford busted it out as he erupted for 24 points in the Boston Celtics' blowout of the Suns last week.

It is instantly recognizable to all fans. There are stakes to it. If the opponent doesn't call time out and goes on its own run, it becomes a little embarrassing. Direct this at the wrong player, and you risk a scuffle.


9. The NBA's Uniform Dissonance Syndrome games

I am not a jersey purist. I don't demand home teams wear white and road teams wear dark; some of the most visually pleasing games involve color versus color. The endless stream of alternate uniforms is a little much, but who cares? They come and go in a blink, and one out of five is a gem.

But there are some matchups between teams with similar color schemes where the inverting of jersey rules causes my brain to go haywire.

For long stretches, I forgot this recent Sixers-Knicks game was in Madison Square Garden, not in Philadelphia:

Both teams use blue. The Sixers are wearing traditional home whites on a blue court against the Knicks in traditional-ish road blues. My brain kept glitching: Why are fans cheering when the blue team does something good?

This can happen in other scenarios, including when the Blazers or Rockets wear white jerseys in Chicago -- with the Bulls sporting their (awesome) red duds.

Saturday's Warriors-Lakers game was an example of two teams with broadly overlapping color schemes getting it right:

The Lakers are home in white, the Warriors in blue

My brain flat-out gave up downloading this early-season Bucks-Pacers game:

The Bucks have used black alternate jerseys. The Pacers generally have not. The Pacers have mostly resisted alternate courts, sticking with their pristine blue-and-gold look. This court is black. Where is the game?


10. Caris LeVert, leveling up as a playmaker

LeVert is in the middle of the passing run of his life, and the Cleveland Cavaliers have needed every dime with Donovan Mitchell out and Darius Garland having an uneven season. (The Cavs have also missed Evan Mobley, Max Strus and Dean Wade in recent games; they are 8-10 since peaking at 35-16.)

LeVert leads the team in assists per game since the start of February, averaging about 7.2 in that span -- including four double-digit assist games.

There is less wasted time and motion in LeVert's game. He's making simple reads a beat faster and tossing a greater variety of passes with either hand.

Everything is smoother, more decisive. The Cavs catapult LeVert off screens before he gets the ball so he starts with an advantage instead of having to manufacture one himself. He flies toward an open paint, with clear reads in front of him.

A season ago, LeVert might have danced with the ball or pivoted into some contested midranger. Instead, he stops on a dime after losing Aaron Nesmith and wraps that bounce pass to Georges Niang the second he spots Pascal Siakam rotating to help. Wait one beat, and the next defender smothers Niang. You don't make that pass that early without anticipating it.

LeVert's game works better for Cleveland in a sixth-man role. He doesn't close games as often when the Cavs have their full roster. LeVert has accepted all that and belongs in the conversation for Sixth Man of the Year. (Malik Monk should be the leader today.)

The Cavs are one game behind the Milwaukee Bucks for the No. 2 seed and two games in the loss column ahead of the Knicks for No. 4; the Knicks own the tiebreaker. It will be interesting to see how Cleveland approaches seeding scenarios as it tries to catch a rhythm with its full roster again.