It's often said that a sport, field, or medium is in transition. In football, the popularity of the two-high shell to prevent explosive plays swept the NFL in 2020. In baseball, dugouts slowly expanded and pitchers moved from a rotation of five or six pitchers to a list of specialists kept in good condition to pitch 30 innings a year. In soccer, it was the unconventional ability to move wingbacks into attacking positions without losing the stability of the formation.
These changes took years, even decades, to happen, but they eventually paid off. In the NBA, the changes have come in waves. From the three-point revolution to a switch-and-blitz defense that wasn't seen anywhere before the mid-'90s, basketball, like any other sport, has seen its identity questioned and transformed.
But unfortunately, in basketball, in my opinion, you end up with slow passes that stall out on conversions, that get stuck and get snagged and just get dragged along with the flow.
That dangerous trend is the perspective and role of the power forward position.
Power forward is perhaps the coolest-named position. No other position group has a mantra of patience and confidence. It's heartbreaking to find that power forwards suffer from feeling alienated from the clear expectations that other groups have.
This past era of NBA basketball built around oversized playmakers has paradoxically saved the position's previous iteration, the 'tweener. This began with the success of 6-foot-7 Shawn Marion in an era when the average height at the position was more than two inches taller, and continued when the (arguably) most notable four-man of the 2010s was 6-foot-6 Draymond Green.
But the era of the 'tweener now exists only in theory. We're talking about playing small and pushing an undersized forward into the power forward position, or playing big and pushing two centers up the court, and half-seriously alluding to the Spurs and Tim Duncan's position labeling.
Ultimately, we forgot about the power forward position as an actual position and instead made it into a group of “other guys.” They're other forwards and other big men. We completely lost sight of how to define the position group, and in doing so, we completely lost sight of how to value them.
And so we came to this final match.
When the Boston Celtics traded for Kristaps Porzingis, they acquired a player who was drafted as a power forward, traded as a franchise cornerstone, moved to center, traded for a pittance, and then played at the highest level again on a Washington team that simply wasn't that strong, sometimes playing next to traditional center Daniel Gafford. The Celtics also traded the beloved Marcus Smart and with him the last vestiges of Ime Udoka's brief tenure as head coach. In short, they traded a guy they'd served for just under a decade for a forward that fit their changing strategy and the team they wanted to be — a true power forward.
But that's not true. The Celtics have never stopped using big men, much less abandoned them. There was a time when the Celtics relied on Al Horford and Daniel Theis on the court. Then it was Horford and Robert Williams III. Then Horford left and Williams was the only big man, but with Horford's return the two-big look continued and the Celtics returned to the Finals for the first time since 2010.
It's also worth noting that Porzingis plays as a center instead of a power forward in a starting lineup that had a regular-season net rating of +11.0, per Basketball-Reference. It's also worth noting that when the team moves Porzingis to the 4 and replaces July Holiday with Al Horford, his impressive net rating of +16.8 just shy of the league-best mark (though that's a small sample size).
Now the Celtics are on the brink of their second Finals appearance in four years, and while they're the exact same team, led by the two No. 3 overall picks and veteran Horford, they're also unrecognizably different, with a defense that can thwart opponents' dynamic duo and a coach who has replaced a rookie who had been hailed as Boston's next great leader.
But behind the scenes, there was a power forward deal that was off the table because of an injury. The payment was so low it seems puzzling when you look back at what the Celtics got for Marcus Smart: not just Porzingis, but two first-round draft picks. Part of the reason is pessimism, the contrarianism that comes after the best season of his career, but part of it is the undervaluing of the four and a misunderstanding of what kind of player Porzingis is.
The Celtics are facing a team that got to the Finals not just by acquiring our main players but also underrated players on the cheap. Kyrie Irving was acquired in exchange for Dorian Finney-Smith and a first-round draft pick that was still years away. Derrick Lively was drafted 12th overall after moving down to get rid of Davis Bertans' contract. Grant Williams, the ultimate loser in this championship showdown, signed a three-year contract after a failed run with the Celtics.
Thus, before the Dallas Mavericks found a direction-defining forward in P.J. Washington, they were constantly shuffling forwards in search of a real difference-maker. Nearly every worthwhile move the Mavericks made during the Luka era included a forward of some kind.
The Mavs went 33-13 with Washington in the lineup and 11-1 in March. Washington was a big fourth quarter contributor in a Game 6 win over the Thunder and then led them to a close Game 5 win in a quiet conference finals series.
While the Celtics built their identity around a consistent approach, tweaking and trial and error, kicking tires at a dealership until they found the stitching on the seats they liked, the Mavs traded in a used 1999 Saab with exhaust problems for a custom Subaru that their mechanic would be proud to have built.
In addition to the two teams that made it to the finals, the runners-up Minnesota Timberwolves and Indiana Pacers also suffered a similar fate.
The Timberwolves acquired Rudy Gobert to move franchise stalwart and star Karl-Anthony Towns to power forward, where Towns flourished during the franchise's most successful season since 2004. General manager Tim Connelly's assignment of Towns to the No. 4, a position he hadn't played since taking the court with Willie Cauley-Stein at Kentucky, defines this Timberwolves team and the coming era of Anthony Edwards.
Indiana had long struggled with the matchup of strong postman Domantas Sabonis and stretchy, slamming big man Myles Turner, but they retooled with Pascal Siakam as a power forward to add to the team's fast attack and provide a second true half-court creator. Siakam led the Pacers in scoring in the playoffs, especially after scoring 20 or more points in two straight games against the Knicks to help them advance to the second round.
So where does that leave us? Yes, we're stuck in power forward limbo for years. We're stuck in a purgatory of slow change that's taking so long we'll never get anywhere. We're sandwiched between two teams with completely different builds, both four games away from a title. An inviolable truth of NBA team construction hits us: a good player is a good player.
It also means there will be no more chances to buy low. Unfortunately, that opportunity is over. Alexandre Sarr could be the No. 1 overall pick. Orlando is banking their entire rebuild on a suite of oversized playmakers. Foreman Paolo Banchero is an underappreciated, but advanced shot creator who uses his strength and center of gravity athleticism to influence games. Jalen Williams and Chet Holmgren could also join the team in the coming weeks with a starting center.
Most interestingly, it's worth asking what this means for a player like Julius Randle, who was lost in the playoffs with a shoulder injury. Knicks fans have already started to post Randle in trade cases. Even power forward Kyle Kuzma, who has slowly developed into a player worthy of the more respected label of “small forward,” is likely to be moved this offseason.
But what's clear from these playoffs is a trend: Every team that made it this far has had some amorphous power forward, a player who fits another position but is considered a No. 4. And yet, it was these players who, despite being underrated, took on the identity of their team like an inherited mantle.
As for the most forgotten position group, maybe it's time to take notice.