Washington Is Broken

As it turns out, Randy Wittman might not be a genius. It is true that we are all talking, at least to some extent, out of our asses when we evaluate coaches—the job is play calls and substitution patterns, but it's also a lot of other stuff we don't see. It is undeniable that we tend to emphasize a skipper's deficiencies only when his team is sinking; the twice-annual Fire Scott Brooks movement doesn't crop up in the middle of Thunder winning streaks, but after Durant, Westbrook and the rest get bounced from the playoffs due in part to some perceived coaching screw-up. Brooks is what he is, and his team's ups and downs probably don't correlate closely with his job performance, but context empowers or dissuades us from criticizing people in his position. All points worth remembering. But also: Randy Wittman.

Wittman was the least successful head coach in the history of the NBA, and well on his way to earning himself a dismissal last season before his young Wizards began to figure themselves out and ascend. His offense, through it all, remained as unimaginative and unconvincing as a Thomas Kinkade landscape, and he never appeared particularly interested in tailoring the way his team played to his best players' strengths, but the Wiz were nevertheless sprightly and exciting circa April 2014. When they started the this season 22-8, all but the most adamant Wittman truthers had to bite their tongues and admit he must have been doing something right.

The wins that briefly insulated Wittman have since dried up. The Wizards fell off hard about six weeks ago and are spiraling down the standings. Pained fans have reclaimed their previous opinion of Wittman, which is that he should be loaded into a van and turned loose on the campus of some unfortunate Conference USA school. The team's now-frequent losses themselves are bad, but the coach's analysis that all the Wiz need to do in order to turn it around is increase their effort damns him further. Does he not see all the ineffectual pick-and-rolls that result in a clogged lane and John Wall either taking a forced pull-up or making an awkward jump-pass? He knows he has the power to make that happen less often, right?

But an overmatched middle manager isn't the only reason the vitality has run out of the Wizards over the past couple of months. Their vaunted backcourt of Wall and Bradley Beal is dynamic, but increasingly and vexingly theoretical. It's looking more likely that Beal's lower-right leg issues are chronic, and he has suffered through two extended injury breaks already this season; his minutes have jumped all over the place depending on what his body can give night-to-night. (This is especially sad considering Beal is just 21 years old.) Wall is a stalwart star, but he's also beginning to resemble a third-act-of-Die Hard John McClane. Asked earlier this week what's ailing him, Wall replied: "Everything. I can't even name a specific thing."

The Wizards aren't the sort of team that can afford to have their shooting guard on the bench in a suit and their best player gamely trying to play through seven different sprains and bruises. Marcin Gortat and Nene Hilario work well together, but neither provides much more than abject solidness. Otto Porter, Garrett Temple, and Ramon Sessions are a troika of meh. Rasual Butler performed a convincing Ray Allen impression for two months and has since reverted back to impersonating a warm body. Martell Webster has been useless and Kevin Seraphin's greatest skill continues to be tallness. Perhaps the scorching victories over a cupcake-laden early-season schedule and the subsequent hypestorm warped popular perception of what is, upon sober examination, a depth-deficient roster that needs to remain fully intact to have any prayer of making it out of the Eastern Conference.

There are plenty of middling-to-goodish teams that fit that description, and all is not lost in Washington. The Wizards are a good team, albeit one whose issues demand a John Wall who is not just humming along healthily but one producing a sound like a space shuttle launch having angry sex with an air raid siren. Perhaps this season's inevitable-seeming sour ending will rid the franchise of Wittman, and we'll see what this squad can do under the stewardship of someone willing and able to draw up a play every once in a while.

Until then, there's nothing for the Wiz to do but ride out this spell of putridity. Those since-dashed dreams of title contention might have been less foolish than ill-timed. Teams can emerge from disasters like this as stronger, smarter units. They usually get a new coach in the deal, too, which will help.