It says a lot about the season Josh Green is (finally) having that I can’t remember exactly when I knew for sure that the third-year wing had leveled up. I don’t mean that the moment passed without my realizing it and I’m trying to look back and pinpoint when it might have taken place. I mean that I know exactly the thing he did on the court that crystallized the idea for me, but I’ve lost track of when it actually happened. I mean that he’s had so many good games so far that I can’t recall with certainty in which one this little bit of business occurred.
It might have been in the Mavs’ November 7 win over Brooklyn, when Green was perfect from the field (including a pair of threes) and free-throw line for 16 points. It also could have come when he went for 23 in a one-point loss to Denver on November 20, missing just one trey and one free throw. I don’t think it happened during his 13-point performance in a nationally televised win against Golden State, but I can’t rule it out. He’s shooting a robust 58 percent from the floor and 44 percent behind the arc on the season. Like I said, there have been a lot of these kinds of nights when he is hotter than a hydrothermal vent.
Maybe you can remember when it happened. Here’s the moment: sometime in the second half of one of these games, Green spotted up on the left wing, above the break, drifting toward the top of the key. Luka Doncic had the ball on the opposite side of the court and his back turned, so he didn’t see that Green was begging for the pass. Not just stretching his hands out for the ball but pogoing in place. Vibrating. He was dying to get the ball and shoot it, as if Dion Waiters had said the magic words while holding the enchanted Spalding and leapt into his body. This was new.
“We all know that this league is all about confidence, and once you have it, you’re a different player,” Dirk Nowitzki told me once, and it’s a point he was fond of making. And, yes, Josh Green is confident now. But what he’s been doing for the most part this season—chalk up Tuesday’s clunker to foul trouble; it happens—goes beyond that. There is a difference between being able to do something on the court and wanting to do it. Demanding the opportunity to do it. Confidence gets you down the road but not all the way there.
That requires something else, a trait that feels negative when you isolate and examine it but is absolutely necessary. It’s the sort of selfishness that turns a player into a factor, a force to be reckoned with, accounted for. “Cockiness” isn’t the right size, maybe a little tight in the shoulders, but it fits well enough. I wasn’t sure if Green had that in him until the game against Brooklyn (or Denver or Golden State).
Sure, he was confident enough in his jumper last year, or at least he said he was, but he never looked like it. He didn’t even seem relaxed about shooting when he was tossing up a three after the whistle. Now he is, and the numbers have followed.
I’m focusing on shooting because it’s the most outward, obvious signal of a vibe shift. But shooting is just part of it. Most nights, it’s not even the most important part. Mark Followill has taken to calling him Mr. Electricity on Mavs broadcasts, and while it’s not the best nickname in the world, it is definitely apt. I wish the character in Mad Max: Fury Road who sped through the desert while playing an electric guitar that shot flames had a better name than The Doof Warrior, because that’s what Green’s game is like, and they’re both from Australia.
You almost always know when Green’s on the court. He is the team’s second-best passer. (Not really the second-best ball handler; his brief run as a point guard against Golden State after Spencer Dinwiddie’s ejection was a bit of a disaster.) He has all manner of jump passes in his arsenal, including a spinning assist for a corner three that only a few players in the league would even attempt. He has become a clever—and, when the occasion arises, powerful—finisher. At least once a game he soars for a rebound and keeps flying after snatching it, up and up, like he grabbed onto a cannonball right out of the barrel. He’s a pesky defender and a smart cutter, a pickup game floor slapper in the body of a strong safety. He’s always doing something.
I am one of a growing number of Mavs fans who have been calling for him to move into the starting lineup—which may be one of the reasons why Jason Kidd has resisted the move, but that’s for another time. I still think that might be the play. (And give Jaden Hardy more minutes, too! You learn by doing!) But Tim Hardaway Jr. has thrived in his recent return to the first five, shooting threes like he’s at a Dave & Buster’s Pop-a-Shot machine and there is a pretty girl nearby arguing with her boyfriend. So maybe the status quo is fine for now. If nothing else, Green has earned a chance to close out games and has been steadily taking minutes away from Reggie Bullock.
I feel ridiculous that I once fully believed that his best-case scenario was something like the eighth or ninth man in a rotation. My only defense is that he was part of an overall bad draft for the Mavs. Second-round picks Tyrell Terry and Tyler Bey are both out of the league, while Desmond Bane, whom the team passed on, was an immediate contributor for Memphis. The organization had a history of missing with players like Green, too. (Anyone remember Jared Cunningham?) Still, I was wrong. I’ve already apologized for not seeing his potential—or, really, not believing he could ever tap into it.
Now I am ready to be an evangelist. I said in the last piece that “you can win with players like Josh Green.” That’s not strong enough anymore. To win, you need players like Josh Green.
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