ORLANDO – Cade Cunningham looked tired. Worse, he looked helpless. In the end, he was frustrated.
With everything that has gone wrong, with himself, that he couldn’t find a bucket, a spark, anything that would help the Detroit Pistons lift the manhole cover from the basket in the waning moments of Game 4.
Oh, he had a chance. Orlando kept giving him one, nearly begging him to take one. The Magic clanked almost as much as the Pistons. That may be the most painful part of it all.
Well, except for this: that’s twice now. Twice that Cunningham had the ball in his hands and the opportunity to steal a playoff game on the road and get this series back on track.
So, yeah, he was frustrated after the Pistons lost to the Orlando Magic Monday at the Kia Center in Game 4, giving the Magic a 3-1 series lead.
He didn’t see this coming. The losses, the inconsistent defense, the missed shots, the turnovers. None of it. This isn’t his standard. It’s costing his team.
If he were even half of himself at the end of either game in Orlando, the Pistons might be leading the series 3-1 instead of being the talk of the NBA first round – for all the wrong reasons. And so, he we are, one more loss from nicking Cunningham’s legacy.
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Harsh? No. He’s come up short. That’s not debatable. Not based on what he did this season, nor what he says he is. Nor what he’s said he wants to become.
He’s got one more game left, a game to start changing the narrative. And if that goes well, one more game after that, and if he’s lucky, one more after that.
Getting to that final game seems improbable. History tells us so. The eye test tells us more. Orlando brought more fight. That’s clear.
Cunningham will be held responsible for that, too, at least in part. That’s how it goes when you’re the best player on a basketball team.
Fair or not.
Cunningham is the leader and the best player on a team that is close to making the kind of history no one wants to make. His reputation as a playoff performer will suffer.
He knows this, knows that the judgements can be harsh, and will be if the Pistons go ahead and lose the series, which seems likely – only 4% of teams have overcome their 3-1 deficits in playoff history. No one will remember that he missed three weeks because of a collapsed lung, or that he is clearly still trying to find his rhythm and his fourth quarter legs.
He’ll have to live with scrutiny, regardless. This is the fallout of an upset. Because whatever else is said about the time he missed, and whatever else is said about the flaws of this Pistons roster, the central reason they’re on the verge of elimination is because Cunningham didn’t make the play or two down the stretch in Orlando.
So, yes, he said, “it’s frustrating … having numbers (in transition), not making plays in transition, things I do best, not being able to make plays for my team.”
Not making the right choices, too. A couple of times Monday night, he had a clear path to the rim, maybe even a chance to dunk, and he passed instead. But it wasn’t just ill-timed passing. It was the shots he took, forcing a few too many 3-pointers, settling.
He looked uncertain down the stretch. He wasn’t playing with the force and intention he’s shown for so much of the season.
Cunningham learned lessons last year against New York. He spent the summer getting stronger and tightening his handle, among other things. He’s a better finisher now and harder to knock off the ball. Orlando is showing there is more work to do. The Pistons’ future depends on it.
No young star’s path in this league is linear. Almost everyone has to suffer, to get exposed, to endure the second-guessing and criticism once exposed, to get into the lab and come back and do something about it.
It’s painful, and Cunningham is feeling that pain. He now holds the record for most turnovers in a three-game stretch in the postseason. He’s also booted the ball away at a higher clip than any other player in the playoffs for the last two seasons.
Orlando deserves some credit for its defense, for its length and disruption and its slow-constricting style that’s made Cunningham feel like he has nowhere to go as the game wears on. Yet Orlando doesn’t deserve all the credit. Cunningham can play better. He can play more judiciously. He can play with more focus.
He can take better shots.
The Pistons’ star played at a first-team All-NBA level for most of the season. He put himself into the MVP conversation. Then his lung collapsed, he missed almost a month, and he hasn’t quite been the same.
He admitted during the week of practice before the playoffs that he still needed to catch his wind and his rhythm. After a couple of efficient performances in the first two games of the series, it looked like he caught both. He said he felt good, too.
But as the pressure and intensity rise, Cunningham hasn’t looked quite right, especially at the end of games. It’s true the Pistons need more shooting, and secondary playmaking, and maybe even more size, and someone who can take the ball and go get a bucket on their own, someone other than Cunningham.
It’s also true they desperately need Cunningham to be better, to be himself, to stop turning the ball over so often, to stop taking impatient 3-point shots, to stop losing his way on drives to the basket, to stop getting lost on defensive rotations.
Yes, he looks tired and worn down. It doesn’t matter. Orlando doesn’t care. History won’t either. He can play better and must play better, or the long summer that looms will get even longer.
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Contact Shawn Windsor: swindsor@freepress.com. Follow him @shawnwindsor.
This article originally appeared on Detroit Free Press: Cade Cunningham can play better, and must if the Pistons want a shot
Reporting by Shawn Windsor, Detroit Free Press / Detroit Free Press
USA TODAY Network via Reuters Connect
