I just began reading Bill Simmons’ The Book of Basketball nearly 17 years after its release, prompted by my partner’s curiosity about why a basketball book needed to be almost as long as the Old Testament. Growing up in Maine and a devoted fan of all four Boston major sports teams (apologies to New England Revolution supporters), I naturally grew up following Simmons. Revisiting his NBA discussions from 2009 is fascinating, as nearly two decades have allowed those opinions to either hold up well or be challenged by the course of history.
Simmons’ book is a massive undertaking, largely devoted to making sense of NBA history—figuring out who truly mattered, what championship titles signify, how player careers should be remembered, and where everyone fits. This led me to reflect similarly on the Celtics and eventually to coach Joe Mazzulla—who I remain unsure how to categorize.
Four seasons into his coaching career, Mazzulla has been an emergency replacement, faced skepticism from Celtics fans, led one of the most dominant teams in history, and most recently oversaw a heartbreaking 3-1 series collapse—the franchise’s first.
Trying to understand Mazzulla is complicated partly because he’s a complex figure himself. When I first wrote about him last April, he had barely had time to establish himself after abruptly stepping in at 34 during the 2022 season following Ime Udoka’s suspension. Despite the chaos, the Celtics kept winning, but many wondered how much of the success could be credited to Mazzulla.
The 2023 playoffs brought further scrutiny, especially about his timeout management. He often allowed players to battle through opponent runs instead of calling immediate timeouts—a strategy that can be smart, but in certain moments, made fans anxious as deficits grew. Questions about adjustments and late-game offense emerged as the Celtics fell behind Miami 3-0, nearly mounted history’s first 3-0 postseason comeback, but ultimately lost in Game 7, leading to calls from some media to move on from Mazzulla.
Perhaps too much was expected too soon from a young coach learning on the job. Then, the following season, Boston went 64-18 and won the NBA championship, making it clear Mazzulla wasn’t just managing talent but defining the team’s identity. His “give the game what it needs” approach transitioned from a catchy phrase to an innovative basketball philosophy.
By earlier this year, I concluded Boston hadn’t planned for Mazzulla to be their long-term coach, but he had become central to the team’s makeup. Yet, five months later, I find myself less certain again. After the championship, the Celtics suffered early playoff exits—second round against the Knicks and first round against the Sixers—both with mitigating circumstances like Tatum’s Achilles injury and strong performances from opponents.
These extreme outcomes make Mazzulla’s legacy elusive. Depending on your starting point, he could be seen as a brilliant emergency hire, a coach struggling to keep pace with veteran leaders, a championship winner, or a leader of disappointing playoff results. Evaluating him sometimes feels like a game of peekaboo: he disappears and reappears in flashes of success and failure.
Is Joe Mazzulla a good coach? Probably, yes. The championship and how players describe him matter. Neemias Queta praised Mazzulla for his care and effort in making players comfortable—a quality inspiring loyalty. But the playoff setbacks can’t be ignored, and gauging the weight of each piece of evidence is tricky.
Coaching is an intangible art—results are the closest measure, yet even those can be misleading. Mazzulla inherited a Finals-ready team, developed it into an offensive powerhouse, and has managed major roster changes and injuries. Still, he remains an inscrutable figure, often offering philosophical or vague answers when pressed on his approach.
Veteran Mike Conley, after working with Mazzulla, admits Joe has a unique basketball perspective that even challenges his own understanding of the game. Despite knowing much about Mazzulla, his ultimate coaching identity remains unclear, and the next phase of his career may finally shed light on who he truly is as a coach.
Throughout his tenure, one major challenge in evaluating Mazzulla has been the Celtics’ abundant talent. Coaching great players is no small feat, however—as Isiah Thomas explained in The Book of Basketball, it’s about more than just talent if the team can’t function well together.
Mazzulla’s championship roster was nearly perfect for his vision: versatile scorers, lockdown defenders, and veterans who understand winning. But this season presents a different challenge. Brown has left for Philadelphia; George is aging; Tatum is recovering from a serious injury; and younger players must step up.
When asked about this year’s team identity, Mazzulla spoke of the difference between on-court characteristics and the identity molded over a season’s hardships—a thoughtful, if elusive, response. “Give the game what it needs” works well with stars like Tatum and Brown, but what happens when the team looks different?
If Boston wins fewer games but Mazzulla adapts to maximize this roster’s strengths, that would impress me more than repeating a strong regular season with the same playoff struggles. We already know he can manage excellent teams and even win a championship.
After blowing a 3-1 lead to Philadelphia recently, Mazzulla’s first question was how he can improve, showing his willingness to learn from every experience. Now, he must apply all those lessons to a new chapter.
So, what’s the verdict on Joe? My answer: wait and see. This may be unsatisfying, but Mazzulla has a history of upending quick judgments within months. His first seasons ended near the Finals and with a title; the last two have ended early—and fans have labeled him everything from novice to genius, sometimes in the same playoff series.
Maybe this season will clarify his legacy, or maybe he’ll continue defying expectations in unpredictable ways—whether it’s experimenting with three centers and no point guard or inventing new strategies inspired by random observations.
Perhaps the biggest mistake was expecting Joe Mazzulla to fit neatly into any simple evaluation at all.
Fan Take: Joe Mazzulla’s story is a compelling example of how coaching in the NBA defies easy categorization, highlighting the complex interplay between talent, leadership, and adaptability. For basketball fans, his journey underscores the evolving nature of coaching and the importance of patience in judging the architects behind the game’s greatest moments—and misses.
Source: sports.yahoo.com
