For more than a hundred years, the world population in general has been enchanted by the story of the Loch Ness monster, also known as Nessie, a prehistoric creature occupying the ancient waters in Northern Scotland.
Interest in the creature peaked by 1934, when a photograph appeared, allegedly showing the head and back of the so-called monster, further fueling the fire of intrigue for decades to come.
The photo was, in time, revealed as a fake, and despite a thorough investigation, all signs point to Nessie being nothing but a mere myth.
This is not entirely unlike the perception of Josh Giddey as a true NBA point guard.
Despite years of debate, and some shaky evidence occasionally caught on film, Giddey’s ability to handle the position remains a folktale at best.
Since entering the NBA in 2021, the Australian has been billed as a kind of Magic Johnson Lite, with the only similarities being his 6-foot-8 height and his ability to rebound.
That … isn’t exactly enough evidence to continue to buy into the notion of Giddey as a true point guard. And that realization by Oklahoma City Thunder general manager Sam Presti was what ultimately got him through a trade when he was shipped to the Chicago Bulls for Alex Caruso, a trade that remains much maligned because of how lopsided it was for the Thunder.
In fact, there is more evidence to suggest that Giddey should be looking to turn things around. His struggle to throw off the dribble is just one example, but one that’s already so problematic that it’s hard to envision him ever justifying becoming a point guard.
His release is slow, and his shooting is so rough that he has virtually no rhythm when he tries to get his shot off quickly, on the move. His shot is essentially a set shot, and one that takes ages to set up before it is fired. That’s fine for the gym down the road, but when he takes it up against NBA defenders, things tend to change.
Giddey might in time become a decent shooter, from an accuracy standpoint, but all of it would have to be created by others and him having enough time to get the actual shot off.
Is there a world where he can increase both his volume and efficiency from 3-point range? Never say never — he’s still only 22 years old — but he’ll have to rebuild the entire foundation of his shooting, and that’s a process that will take years, with the end result being a big, uncomfortable question mark. He took only 741 career triples, in about 6,500 minutes. For an NBA guard in this modern era, that’s ridiculously low, averaging about 3.3 per game. By any measure, a guard taking those few 3s just doesn’t pose a big enough threat to be guarded from out there.
Speaking of slow, this also applies to Giddey’s defensive timing, as he isn’t exactly athletic. Guarding a player like Darius Garland, which he did Friday night on NBA Cup night, Giddey might as well have been a deception himself, as his presence didn’t even seem to register to Garland, who was constantly beating him off the dribble. whenever he wanted.
Now, Giddey does a decent job rebounding the ball, and he knows how to make quality passes. There is an interesting component to his catch potential, from him smashing the defensive glass and pushing the ball down the court to teammates who have leaked.
Unfortunately, because he occupies one of the guard spots, the players in front of him are usually bigger and taller, who take a minute to get down the court.
The idea of Giddey ending those plays himself is also more theoretical than practical, given his lack of athletic pop. When challenging players near the rim, Giddey simply lacks the athleticism and strength to convert, or draw a significant portion of fouls. For his career, he takes just 1.7 free throws a night and has a free throw rate of 14%, which means for an attempted field goal there is only a 14% chance that he makes it to the foul line.
To summarize, Giddey is not a strong shooter or scorer in general. His defense against opposing guards is too slow and too ineffective. He can rebound, and he can pass well as someone who is 6-8, but doesn’t do it enough to justify his position.
The solution?
Therein lies a real argument that Giddey should make a transition to power forward.
First, it would allow the Bulls to put another guard on the floor to take over crucial playmaking decisions. Lord knows they have enough alternatives in the form of Ayo Dosunmu, Lonzo Ball, and Coby White, all of whom can create more of the rebound, and open the court more with their scoring prowess. Plus, most NBA guards today can shoot, even off the dribble, which is another problem removed from the equation.
In terms of playmaking, there is the added benefit of having a four-man who can make quality passes. Most NBA teams dream of having a playmaker in most positions, such as to unlock a playbox of fun offensive opportunities, and Giddey as a team’s third or fourth playmaking option could choose his spots quite effectively. After all, he made 5.8 bucks for his career, which is nothing.
On the defensive side of the ball, the argument only gets better. Giddey has a better chance of being effective against the Tobias Harrises and Harrison Barneses of the world than trying to stop speedy All-Star point guards.
His rebounding (7.2 for his career) is good enough to make the transition and should carry. He might lose that battle when matched up against much taller power forwards, but you live with that because it beats the alternative of him playing catch up to point guards on the perimeter who often manage to take him off the play and force the Bulls play 4-on-5 defense.
The solution may not be perfect, and a positional move may not even make him a starter. But it’s becoming increasingly obvious that Giddey can’t handle the responsibility of an NBA point guard.
Given that he still has some level of talent, it might be in his best interest for the Bulls to test that out to see if he could at least become a rotation player long term and under more optimized circumstances.
If not, it will only be a matter of time before Giddey becomes an afterthought whose time in the NBA will be reduced to a short-lived myth of the 6-8 Aussie who thought he could play point guard.
