So, like, does the regular season even matter anymore?
I mean, sure, it matters because you need to win enough to make the playoffs, but after that? Is there any predicted value in those first 82 games, or are we just load managing our way until April and then figuring out who the best teams are, with no useful information beyond which teams qualified?
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It almost feels that way after the first round of the playoffs this year. We had a No. 7 and No. 8 seed advance in the same year for the first time ever, and each won the series in fairly convincing fashion. We had a sixth seed advance for only the second time since 2016, and they weren’t even playing the Raptors. We also had a fifth seed advance; that is much, much more common, but to see it happen in the five-game cruise that the Knicks had is not.
I’ve pointed this out before, but we normally averaged about 3.5 teams without home-court advantage advancing in any given postseason. Out of 15 series, that means the home-court advantage team wins about 75 percent of the time.
Well, we’ve already exceeded our quota with four non-home-court teams advancing, and we still have three playoff rounds left. Yes, it’s possible we go chalk from here and the Celtics beat the Nuggets in the Finals, but we also have some true mayhem scenarios on the table. We haven’t had seven of the 15 series go to the non-home-court team since 1996; it’s not hard to envision matching that. We haven’t had more than half against the grain that way since the goofy 1981 playoffs that saw two 40-42 teams meet in the Western Conference finals; six of the 11 series were won by a team without home-court advantage.
Not only did lower seeds win four of the eight series, but also they won 20 of the 43 individual playoff games … even though they had to play five extra road games. The trend has continued so far in the second round, with the road teams splitting the only two games we’ve had thus far. If you want to break it down even deeper, the higher seeds outscored them by fewer than one point per game in the first round (0.93, to be exact); take away the extra home games and the advantage was more like 0.58.
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Supporting the idea of the regular season’s declining importance is the weakness, in regular-season terms, of the eight teams we have left in the playoffs. As my brother in Northwest nerddom Kevin Pelton of ESPN noted, the combined .590 winning percentage of the eight remaining teams is the worst since the postseason expanded to 16 teams in 1984.
This season didn’t just set the record, it smashed it. In fact the next-worst percentage was in 2007 at .617 — 27 points better — and even at that was almost entirely the result of two factors: a 67-win Mavs team losing in the first round, and that four teams had to be represented for the Eastern Conference, which was near its competitive nadir.
So what’s the cause this time? In theory you can blame injuries, such as those to Giannis Antetokounmpo and Steven Adams, for some of the higher seeds’ underperformance. Except that you can also flip this on its head: The Clippers likely would have played a much more competitive series against Phoenix with a healthy Kawhi Leonard and Paul George; Minnesota lost Jaden McDaniels and Naz Reid against Denver; and the Heat and Knicks lost key players and won in five games anyway. On balance, it feels like a draw at best.
Instead, is time for the salary rules to take a bow? It seems we’ve arrived at a place that has less overwhelming dominance and more genuinely competitive early rounds.
For evidence, ironically, we can look at the regular season, and how compressed the standings have become. You want evidence of competitive balance? Well, we didn’t have a 60-win team this year for the second time in three years (pro-rating for shortened seasons) … something that only happened one time in the previous 40. It was “1 vs. 8,” yes, but only 14 wins separated Milwaukee from Miami, and just eight kept the Lakers from Memphis.
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Even winning 55 games is an increasingly rare feat: Only two teams did it each of the last two years, and just three made it in 2018-19. In 2012-13 and 2014-2015, we had six.
How about this: only six teams this season had a point differential of greater than plus-3.0 per game, itself a pretty modest sign of dominance and/or legitimate contender status. Already three of them have been eliminated from the playoffs. If you’re looking for that indicator to hold, Denver, Philadelphia and Boston are your only teams left of the eight that made the conference semis.
This year it seems like a particularly stark difference because one of the golden rules of previous playoffs — whatever else happens, the Nos. 7 and 8 seeds get trucked — was completely invalidated this year.
On the other hand, we’re working with incredibly small samples here. Additionally, the “3.5 rule” has been remarkably consistent until this season. Last season we had three teams win without home-court advantage; we had four in 2021, five in 2020, two in 2019, five in 2018, and three in 2017.
And, notably, there may have been one additional factor in the playoff secret sauce this year. Historically, in a first-round matchup, teams without home-court advantage have a dramatically better chance of pulling off the upset if they at least split the season series. You would think that with load management and what not, this relationship would diminish.
Well, guess what. Here are the season series results of the four playoffs where a lower seed advanced:
- New York 3, Cleveland 1
- Golden State 3, Sacramento 1
- L.A. Lakers 2, Memphis 1
- Miami 2, Milwaukee 2
And here’s what happened in the four where a lower seed did not prevail:
(Puffs chest out) Who says the regular season doesn’t matter now, hot shot?
OK, this is all kinds of small samples and randomness, but yes, the five teams that won the regular-season series outright all advanced in the first round, regardless of seeding. Additionally, the six teams that the “regular-season series” method would say had a chance all ended up having a chance, especially once you factor in the late injuries that stymied the Clippers and Wolves.
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Look, there’s all kinds of reasons to believe that the regular season is actually less important and less indicative of playoff quality than it used to be. For one, teams are telling us this is the case by worrying less about their regular-season record and seeding and more about having their best players at top strength for the biggest games. Relative to the recent past, teams seemed to be leaning harder into valuing the postseason over the regular season.
Moreover, with everybody being more cautious with player minutes, the time their best players spend on the court is a much lower percentage of the total. In 2013-14 Steph Curry and Klay Thompson each played 72 percent of the Warriors’ minutes; in 2022-23 those numbers were 49 percent and 57 percent, respectively. You know who played 72 percent of his team’s minutes in 2022-23? Nobody, that’s who. Anthony Edwards got to 71.7 percent, and Mikal Bridges would have cleared the threshold if he had played for the same team all year. That’s it.
Multiply that times three or four key players and you’ll see that “best lineup” combinations are a vanishing breed; for instance, my podcast partner Nate Duncan tracked the times a team’s top two players were both available for both sides on any given night, and found it was usually less than half the time.
Given that information, of course we would expect the relationship between playoffs and regular season to break down a bit.
Secondarily, I would argue that in-season roster change is a much bigger factor that in it used to be. I’m old enough to remember when the trade deadline was where contenders tried to acquire secondary pieces to fill out their team; in the last three we’ve seen Kevin Durant get moved and James Harden change teams twice, among other moves. The Lakers’ regular season, to use one example, was not necessarily a hugely relevant portent of their playoff peak.
Nonetheless, I’m not ready to declare the regular season dead as an indicator just yet. There’s a lot of ocean between the two shores of having the top seeds pound everybody senseless and NCAA-Tournament-like randomness; I think we’ve merely nudged the boat a little bit closer to one coast than the other. The closeness of the standings this year and the fact that the regular-season head-to-head results offered clues of what might happen both argue for extenuating circumstances.
Look, we all want excitement in the playoffs and for every team to feel like it has a chance. We should also remember that increasing competitive balance, a prominent goal of recent CBAs, sometimes means more 1981-style postseason randomness. That can make the regular season seem unimportant, especially after a first round like this one, even though that might not be the case.
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Let’s hope that’s not the new reality, The regular season is the lion’s share of the league calendar; I’d argue it’s hugely important for the league that those games still mean something, and I’d be wary of any further signals that the relationship between regular season and postseason success is disintegrating.
(Photo of Jimmy Butler and Bam Adebayo: Elsa / Getty Images)
