Minnesota Timberwolves: Flip Saunders, Tim Thibodeau and the self-awareness to change

Fired in his attempt to turn the Minnesota Timberwolves into contenders, Tom Thibodeau failed for the very reason his predecessor succeeded

Flip Saunders always had a plan. Yet, standing in a musky Chicago gymnasium, in the summer of ‘95, watching a thin, high school forward glide across the court with as much grace and pure force as he had ever seen packed into one player, he was no longer certain he had the right one.

Holding the fifth pick in a draft filled with multiple blue-chip prospects in Rasheed Wallace, Antonio McDyess and Jerry Stackhouse, the Minnesota Timberwolves had, for the first time in their moribund five years of existence, a real blueprint to escape the doldrums of the league.

As Howard Beck once detailed, Saunders, along with Kevin McHale – the newly installed GM of the team – would attempt to steal one their targeted players with some classic rom-com styled misdirection. Attend the pre-draft workout of Kevin Garnett, the straight-out-of-high-school, talented but raw phenom, and talk him up in hope that one of the first four teams talked themselves into him and bit; allowing one of their guys to fall far enough for them to nab him.

More from Sir Charles In Charge

But just as Lana Condor found herself unable to resist the charm of Noah Centino – and really, who could(?) – so too, did Saunders and McHale reverse course, as they found themselves salivating at the thought of what KG could be.

Operating from the mid-court against John Hammond – the future GM of the Milwaukee Bucks – Garnet’s dribble and long strides allowed him to cover as much distance in as short a time as some of the fastest players in the league, to go along with ball-handling skills as fluid as any developed point guard, and more power than most thought possible from his lean frame.

In an era where play was defined by clearly demarcated positions and skill-sets, KG’s amorphous abilities were a morsel of what the league would become. A unicorn before we thought to call him that.

Fast forward 20 years, past the Garnett-led teams that were the only modicum of success the franchise could look upon, and Saunders, now the newly-minted president of basketball ops, found himself with a similarly momentous decision. Holding the No. 1 pick in the 2015 draft, as well as the baggage of an 11-year playoff drought, the focus of the T-Wolves’ pre-draft machinations would once again fall on a highly-touted prospect out of a nationally recognized school: Jahlil Okafor.

Compared to Karl-Anthony Towns, his presumed competition for the No. 1 slot, it came as little surprise that the Duke center would enamor the coach whose success in the league primarily came during a time when the post-up ruled basketball. An interior force capable of bulldozing smaller defenders, he was equipped not only with superb footwork, but the ability to deftly pass out of a double-team, all at the age of 19; a basketball wet dream straight out of 2002.

Once again, however, Saunders would have a change of heart, passing on Okafor to select Towns, not only because of the former’s inability to track wings along the perimeter – a must in any pick-and-roll defense – but also because of the latter’s ability to develop an outside shot. It was a pick that not only contrasted the way Saunders once helped build the team, but also served as an acknowledgment that a system’s past success no longer guaranteed its future.

As we know now, four months later Flip Saunders would pass away, leaving his family and the league with an unfillable hole, but having already left in place several foundational pieces – including the newly drafted Towns – for the Minnesota franchise. What they lacked now was a leader.

***

Tom Thibodeau had built a reputation of stubbornness and guile. In five years as the coach of the Chicago Bulls, he was renowned not only as the architect of some of the league’s most sophisticated defensive sets, but for his ability to create buy-in from the players he led. Fostering a trench-warfare like culture, Thibs’ greatest success as a coach came with a Chicago franchise that was consistently undermanned, thanks to chronic injuries to its key stars, and yet competed by trading raw talent for defensive intensity and a brotherhood-like bond among the players.

Yet for all his on-court success came Thibodeau’s abrasive personality, culminating in a freeze-out between the coach and GM, John Paxson, which would have made Phil Jackson and Jerry Krause uncomfortable. In landing with the Minnesota Timberwolves following his departure from the Bulls, Thibs would represent the validation of a known free-agent name choosing them amid a slew of attractive offers; the “catch” that losing and the frigid Minneapolis winters’ had always prevented.

What they’ve lacked since has been success.

Fired last week following a two-and-a-half year stint with the team, Thibs’ ultimate departure had become a foregone conclusion following Jimmy Butler’s offseason trade demand. While the exact timing of the move may have caught some by surprise, the rationale behind it was clear, with the franchise mired in yet another lost season, under the former coach-of-the-years’ leadership.

Operating without a counterbalance in his dual role as coach and GM, ensured that Thibodeau’s worst tendencies became exacerbated, allowing the criticisms that once existed on the periphery of his career to move front-and-center in Minnesota. His habit of playing his starters heavy minutes, came to be accompanied by his roster construction that seemed more intent on recreating his former Bulls teams than developing the young talent on the Wolves; his difficult personality, now accompanied by a seemingly newly developed penchant for throwing things.

Yet beyond the personnel decisions and difficult personality, the most concerning aspect of Thibodeau’s tenure, was the former coach of the year’s unwillingness – if not inability – to adjust his approach to the modern NBA. Rather than seeking to spread the floor as a means of unlocking his two former No. 1 picks’ athleticism, or generate easy offense for his all-NBA wing, Thibs seemed to relish the path of most resistance, installing an offensive strategy reliant on cuts and an overloading of the weak side to get his wings ISO’s from which to attack.

Eschewing a greater number of 3-point attempts in lieu of what Thibs saw as “better shots”, the resulting offensive sets featured a heavy dose of mid-range jumpers or opportunities for Butler to bulldoze his way to the rim in hopes of drawing a foul. While the Wolves succeeded in getting to the penalty line with greater frequency than any other team minus the Hornets while Jimmy B. still occupied a roster space, their inefficient, physical style of play saw significant drops in production as their seasons progressed.

While Thibs may have been given an initial pass for crafting an offense that can generously be described as “retro” in seeking to unlock Butler’s throwback type skill-set, what was most concerning was his lack of adjustments following Butler’s extended absence last season, and subsequent trade this year. Rather than reorienting the playbook around Karl-Anthony Towns, the franchise’s biggest asset in its hopes of competing for a title, Thibodeau pivoted instead to the trio of guards in Wiggins, Derrick Rose and Jamal Crawford to initiate the offense.

Ranking only fourth in usage on the team, Towns is often left to leak out to the perimeter in hopes of spacing the floor to create driving lanes for his teammates, or to drift into the lane for post-ups. While KAT’s 43 percent conversion rate on 3’s and 1.04 points per possession in the paint are elite numbers for any big-man, both are the result of Towns serving as a pressure-release on plays whose first options are snuffed out. Unlike the New Orleans Pelicans, who feature Anthony Davis in a plethora of pick-and-rolls as a means of utilizing his diverse skill-set to warp the gravity on the floor, KAT’s production is too often dictated by the action on the court rather than it is him dictating the action.

Towns’ worrying absence as the feature of the Wolves’ attack was ultimately more a trend of Thibodeau’s tenure than a one-off event, and subsequently a prime reason for his firing. Thibs’ failure in Minneapolis was not merely one of schematics however, but rather the result of his insistence that the Timberwolves conform to his preconceived vision of the “right way to play” regardless of the fit. That he was hired to fill the gap left by the late Saunders, whose own success was marked by his willingness to change, only serves to put Thibodeau’s stubbornness into starker relief.

As Minnesota begins the search for its next leader, it’s left to question not only the viability of an internal structure that allows one person to hold sway over the entire organization, but the wisdom behind hiring a coach with a slavish devotion to a particular system. With the league undergoing stylistic changes at a faster rate than at any point in its history, only looking to craft a “modern” offense today, may mean being left behind by the sea-change coming tomorrow.

The Timberwolves would be far better served hiring a coach whose looking to install a system capable of maximizing the talent on-hand, as well as able to adapt to whatever changes may come. If the success of Mike D’Antoni and Gregg Popovich has taught us anything, it’s that pliability is rarely a vice.

Left to compete in a conference bereft of teams looking to tank, and loaded with ones capable of challenging for 50-plus wins, Minnesota’s margin for error is slimmer than most. Given the deterioration of the franchise under Thibodeau, owner Glenn Taylor was left little choice but to intervene. In doing so, the Minnesota Timberwolves may afford themselves one last opportunity to craft a contender around Towns before free-agency concerns compel a complete teardown. For a franchise that’s long battled irrelevancy, the luxury of patience is one they no longer possess.