1 Flaw Every Top NBA Rookie Needs to Fix This Offseason

Between the competition level spiking, the games coming more frequently and the challenges of adjusting to life as a professional, NBA rookies don't have it easy.

And that's without even considering the constant threat of popcorn attacks.

So as we critique the guys who landed on the All-Rookie teams (plus Michael Porter Jr.), please keep in mind that by virtue of simply making it through their first years, every one of these players is a high achiever.

Even with a lucky few still playing in the postseason, it's now time to look down the road and ask what each top rookie must improve to go from surviving to thriving in the NBA.

Brandon Clarke's passing isn't really a flaw so much as the area of his game that, if improved, could make him a devastatingly effective offensive weapon.

As a rookie, the hyperathletic forward averaged 2.2 assists per 36 minutes and checked in at the 56th percentile in assist rate among bigs. Both are fine figures, especially for a rookie. But Clarke's floater game, already perhaps the very best in the league, means he has yet to scratch the surface of his potential as a roll man.

Just under 23 percent of Clarke's possessions came as a roller this past season, and he averaged an obscene 1.51 points per play on them. It's not a coincidence that his sky-high ranking there is right in line with where he sat among bigs in short mid-range accuracy. Basically, Clarke was sublimely efficient because of his floater, which was also useful on cuts and even on longer offensive rebounds.

Interior defenders often invite those difficult shots from roll men and drivers because the alternative is taking another step out and opening up easy lobs and drop passes near the rim. That's not going to fly against Clarke, who hits those tough flips and floaters at elite rates. Defenders have to close out more aggressively, which means there's a treasure trove of easy assists just waiting for Clarke to pick up.

Draymond Green never had Clarke's in-between accuracy or lift, but he's the player Memphis' forward should study. The Golden State Warriors' centers, admittedly around the bucket more often than the stretchy Jaren Jackson Jr. figures to be, have feasted for years on Green's quick-thinking lobs.

Terence Davis made the improbable jump from undrafted free agent to All-Rookie second team, so there's no way to consider him anything but a success. Already one of the very best rebounding guards in the NBA, a dynamite finisher inside and a 41.1 percent marksman on catch-and-shoot threes, Davis has a handful of highly valuable skills.

If he's going to be more than a reserve specialist, he has to get more comfortable with the ball in his hands. Specifically, he has to develop some pick-and-roll craft.

Davis averaged just 0.66 points per play as the pick-and-roll ball-handler, which put him in the 20th percentile in scoring efficiency on such plays. Worse still, he turned the ball over 25.3 percent of the time.

Though he has considerable burst going downhill, and though he's a threat to detonate over a retreating big man at the rim, Davis simply doesn't have the feel to make defenses pay when running the league's most integral offensive set.

Good news for the Toronto Raptors: He knows it.

Rui Hachimura's primary skill, mid-range shooting, isn't going to get him very far. To become more than a stat-stuffer on a bad team, he has to ditch the low-efficiency looks he loves so much.

With 41 percent of his total field-goal attempts coming from the mid-range area, Hachimura was waaaaaaay down toward the bad end of the shot-selection spectrum. Just two frontcourt players who logged as many minutes attempted a higher rate of long mid-rangers: Carmelo Anthony and LaMarcus Aldridge.

To be fair to Hachimura, he converted those deep jumpers at better percentages than both Anthony and Aldridge. But a 45 percent hit rate on long twos isn't going to cut it when you also rank in the bottom third in scoring efficiency among bigs at the rim and from beyond the arc.

It's always easy to say an offense-first player must improve his shot distribution. We're living in the threes-and-layups era, and good teams relentlessly hunt shots in those areas. The teams (and players) who don't embrace that approach have to excel everywhere else to make up the difference.

Hachimura can still fire from the elbows, just inside the arc and the mid-post (where he's actually not bad) when situations call for it. But deep two-pointers simply can't be the cornerstone of a quality offensive game.

One flaw Tyler Herro absolutely does not have to address is a lack of confidence. The rookie's postseason performance, marked by daring clutch shots and levels of swag so high they're almost laughable, hints at his future as a top-flight shotmaker.

If you can still find any Herro stock out there, buy all of it.

No rookie is perfect, though, and the Kentucky guard isn't an exception. His defense was suspect, like most rookies', early in the year. But he absorbed enough of the Miami Heat's schemes and playing style (read: doggedly competitive) to earn himself plenty of fourth-quarter minutes in games that mattered. Miami doesn't play anyone, let alone a rookie, who can't at least compete on that end.

As a shoot-first (and second...and third) player throughout his amateur career, Herro's passing is understandably behind his scoring. He logged at least as many turnovers as assists in 34 of his 55 regular-season games and ranked in the 10th percentile at his position in assist-to-usage ratio. Though Herro wasn't an especially high-turnover player (it's tough to give the ball away when you generally shoot it the moment you get it), he also didn't dazzle as a playmaker.

Bet on him remedying that.

Herro knows where his shortcomings are, and he's putting in work to fix them. That was evident when he was tasked with point guard duties and produced a 10-assist game against the Phoenix Suns in the bubble.

Personal safety emerged as a real worry during Ja Morant's stellar (and award-winning) rookie season.

Slight of frame but seemingly composed only of tightly coiled springs, Morant relentlessly assaulted the rim, producing several hold-your-breath spills.

That's why encouraging him to leverage his preposterous athleticism on defense feels so risky. We're asking him to play with the same recklessness on both ends.

It's surprising that a player with Morant's obvious skills—quickness, anticipation, vision, elite bounce and phenomenal hands—only finished in the 23rd and 44th percentiles, respectively, in steal and block rate at his position. You'd think the same viper-strike speed and clairvoyant floor-reading prowess that made him an offensive dynamo would translate to more disruption on the other end.

Instead, Morant, the defender, was kind of just...there.

Top-flight point guards already have outsized responsibilities. They run the team, organize the offense and often lead the way in scoring. Damian Lillard and Stephen Curry, for example, top out as passable defenders. But neither of them share Morant's speed or lift, so it's more reasonable to ask for greater defensive impact from the Memphis Grizzlies' blossoming superstar. He's got tools most don't.

Just be careful, Ja.

Kendrick Nunn wasn't drafted in 2018 and had to play a year in the G League before improbably landing a spot with the Miami Heat in training camp. He was never supposed to be in the league, let alone find himself on the All-Rookie first team.

His wayward path to the NBA was due largely to a guilty plea to a battery charge stemming from a domestic-battery arrest, which resulted in his dismissal from Illinois. But Nunn was also off the radar because he didn't have a standout skill.

Fortunately for him, he also doesn't really have a glaring weakness.

Sure, Nunn's finishing with his right hand was shaky, and his assist rate was low for a combo guard. But you don't see players seize starting roles on playoff teams if they can't generally hold their own.

If there's one area Nunn could stand to improve, it's his work around the rim. Excellent conversion rates on pull-up jumpers masked an offensive game that was short on close-range looks. Nunn isn't terribly undersized at 6'2", and he's quick enough. But he only took a quarter of his shots at the rim, which ranked in the 41st percentile at his position.

Credit him for trusting in an off-the-dribble jumper that worked well. But if Nunn wants to take the next step, he needs to become a better, more consistent threat to get to the basket.

Eric Paschall arrived in the NBA with a veteran's frame, which he put to use on punishing, head-down drives against surprised and physically overwhelmed defenders of all sizes. The 6'6" forward also leveraged his strength and bounce as a roll man, in transition and on quick strikes from the dunker spot.

Though his bull-rush style invited savvy defenders to set up shop in front of him and absorb offensive fouls, Paschall adapted by adding spins and pump fakes and improving as a passer off the bounce.

Next season will bring a new role for 2019's No. 41 pick, one that will involve far less time on the ball than he enjoyed during his rookie season. To fit into a rotation that will include Klay Thompson, Stephen Curry and, in theory, a more engaged Draymond Green, Paschall must improve as a spot-up shooter from deep.

Though he only hit 28.7 percent of his deep attempts this past season, there are reasons for optimism—the first being that Paschall already knows which areas of his game need to get better.

There's more.

Paschall's free-throw percentage, often a good indicator of hidden long-range potential, was a solid 77.4 percent as a rookie. He was also accurate on shorter jumpers, hitting 49 percent of his long mid-rangers, good for a ranking in the 79th percentile among bigs.

The opportunities to cut, run over opponents in transition and overpower smaller matchups down low will always be there. But if Paschall can become a threat defenders have to account for from deep, he'll further unlock his driving game and stay on the floor for a ready-to-contend Golden State Warriors team next year.

Michael Porter Jr.'s offensive game is unassailable. The first-year forward averaged 20.4 points per 36 minutes with a 50.9/42.2/83.3 shooting split during the regular season despite shuttling back and forth between the rotation and the deeper end of the bench.

The reason for his inconsistent role? Defense.

The speed and sophistication of the NBA game is a challenge for every rookie, but Porter seemed to have a harder time than most, frequently struggling to position himself correctly in the Denver Nuggets' schemes. The 6'10" forward also told on himself by admitting to Sean Keeler of the Denver Post that he needed to do a better job making sure "the effort's there every night."

There's an old axiom that says poor defenders fall into three categories. Some can't defend, some won't defend, and some don't know how. Often, MPJ occupied the second and third categories at the same time.

Porter's defensive lapses haven't disappeared entirely in the bubble, but they've decreased in frequency and been tempered by several highlights. He is long and athletic and competes hard on the glass. He doesn't have to be a star on D, but if he sustains his focus and learns from his postseason experience, he absolutely has the tools to be passable.

With his top-notch offensive value, half-decent defense is all it'll take to keep him on the floor consistently, leading to an easy and efficient 20-25 points per game in 2020-21.

Skilled bigs who can spot up from the corners, step past a closeout and make a good decision with the ball have a place in the league. P.J. Washington, a 6'7" forward, can do those things already. He hit 49 percent of his corner treys and posted an assist rate in the 76th percentile at his position.

He's going to have a long career even if he doesn't improve on his rookie efforts.

But if the All-Rookie second-teamer wants to be something more than a solid rotation player, he has to round out his scoring game.

Washington was marginally below average for his position in attempt frequency at the rim, but he was absolutely terrible at converting when he got there, slotting in the 19th percentile among bigs in accuracy at close range. In fact, Washington wasn't particularly efficient anywhere other than the deep corners—that includes the foul line, where he made just 64.7 percent of his freebies.

One positive sign for his future: Though Washington's shot was errant on above-the-break threes, he had little trouble with long mid-rangers, converting those ill-favored looks at a 50 percent clip. With no glaring mechanical issues in his form and an already demonstrated ability to master certain spots on the floor, Washington should develop into a more complete offensive weapon in time.

The easy flaw-fixing advice for Coby White would be "don't wait until the last 10 games of the season to explode."

During that closing stretch of meaningless contests (yes, we have to take them with a grain of salt), White blitzed his way up and down the floor, utilizing top-notch speed and a quick trigger from the perimeter to energize the Chicago Bulls offense and rack up averages of 24.7 points on a 46.8/40.7/89.5 shooting split.

White was on an unsustainable heater after the All-Star break, but his performance hints at the type of player he could become if given the ball and consistent playing time. He doesn't really have to change anything if he wants to be a high-end scoring threat off the bench.

With the right adjustments, though, he could be even better than that.

Improved vision and playmaking skill are the keys to White exceeding the potential he flashed as a point-hoarding transition blur last year. A born scorer, he suffers from tunnel vision, especially in the open floor against a scrambled defense. It's hard to blame him; he piled up buckets in that scenario throughout his high school and collegiate career. His scoring intuition got him to the league.

But if White can develop his vision and capitalize on defenses' efforts to keep him from pouring in the points, he'll see ample opportunities to help his teammates eat, as well.

A preseason meniscus tear put Zion Williamson in a tough spot. Out of game action until his debut on Jan. 22 and then limited by a minutes restriction, Williamson struggled to get himself into game shape for the stretch run of the regular season. Then came four-plus months of a pandemic that reduced his activity (at least in terms of five-on-five work) and basically assured suboptimal conditioning heading into the bubble.

That Williamson also had to exit the Florida quarantine, further setting himself back, only exacerbated his lack of wind and rhythm.

Some will say Williamson simply has to get into better shape, or that he has to hit a target weight prior to his second season. That feels judgmental, and it kind of misses the point because injury caused the poor conditioning in the first place.

The simplest way to address everything that went wrong in Zion's brief rookie campaign, which was still marked by tremendous production when he was on the floor, is for him to stay healthy.

That may be easier said than done given the strain his size, athleticism and style of play put on his joints and tendons. But there shouldn't really be any question that if he'd been healthy, Williamson would have run away with the Rookie of the Year award. Despite a steep learning curve, physical setbacks and limited playing time, he still put up 22.5 points and 6.3 rebounds per game while posting a 61.6 true shooting percentage—figures no rookie had ever produced.

Those stats would have been even better if not for that fateful knee injury. So if Zion can stay healthy enough to train over the offseason, and if that carries through the 2020-21 campaign, the sky's the limit. Just as it was when he was doing stuff like this before the 2019-20 season.

Stats courtesy of NBA.com, Basketball Reference and Cleaning the Glass.