The Investigation of Sam Hauser — Part 1

As I light my cigarette while enjoying the soft ping of rain colliding with my air conditioner unit, there’s an unexpected knock on my office door.

“Come in” I announce casually.

The door opens lightly and a boyish looking middle aged man in a white polo and black pants enters. His dark hair is cut in a way that would make him fit in at a military base, if they had a nerd branch. He strikes me as having a unique combination of calm, awkward confidence. He speaks first.

“Richard Magnum, Basketball Investigator?”

“Please, call me Dick.”

“Ok, Dick”

“Magnum”

“Huh?”

“Please call me Dick Magnum”

“You want another grown man to call you Dick Magnum?”

“Those are the rules, you either play by them or get out,” I struggle to get the last words out as a large silky cloud of smoke escapes from my mouth. “And who the hell are you?”

“I go by the President.”

“Like, of the United States?”

“No, like of Basketball Operations. You are a basketball investigator.”

I didn’t appreciate his tone, but admittedly, I had asked a fairly stupid question. I know what the president of the United States looks like. This was clearly not him. I try to move on as quickly as possible.

“Well Mr. President, in what way can I offer my investigatory skills to you?”

I can see the excitement rise up in him when I pose the question. “I need you to look into a player. Man, this kid can shoot it. Corners, left break, right break, top of the key, anywhere. His jumper is so smooth it would make Ray Allen blush.”

“How tall is he?” I ask assuming he must run small.

“6 foot 9.” The President declares confidently.

“Nice. What else can he do?”

“Well Dick… Magnum. I have no idea. I’m not sure he can really do anything else. I’m not ruling it out either. That’s why I’m here.” I could sense the frustration in his voice.

“What’s this kid’s name?” I asked with a flutter of excitement.

“Sam, Sam Hauser.” He said it like it would be some big reveal. Like he was declaring that the kid was Luke’s father. Turns out, it was just one of the white dudes from Virginia.

I try mask my amusement at his attempt at drama and reply back. “Understood. So my mission is to figure out if Sam Hauser can do anything other than shoot?”

“Exactly.”

“Come back in a week.”

“So you want me to come back next Wednesday?”

“Yeah, sure, that’s fine.”

“Actually could we do Thursday? I’ve got a thing Wednesday.”

Frustration starting to rise I breath out a sharp “sure.”

“Does 10 work?”

“I’ll see you in a week Mr. President.”

One Week Later

There’s a knock at my door. Rationally, I know it’s my newest client, the boy president I met last week. That doesn’t stop my emotions from kicking in. That familiar cocktail of anxiety and excitement, quickly followed by crushing disappointment. 3 powerful emotions in less than a second. That knock will never be her again. Now how do I convince me of that? I gather myself and throw on a smile, a rote sequence after these long few years.

With what I hope is a gentle and lighthearted sing song, I welcome my guest: “Happy birthday dayyyyyyy Mr. Pres-i-dent.”

He enters. Judging by his face, he is not amused. Clearly this man lacked a sense of humor and an appreciation for a well timed Marilyn Monroe reference. Both red flags.

“That was a strange way to greet me that I’d rather not dwell on. Let’s get to brass tacks. If this were some sort of article or something, the reader would probably be begging us to hurry the shuck up and get to the basketball analysis.”

Straight to business. I did like that. Almost enough for me to ignore that he had used the word “shuck” as a curse. This man was obviously from the mid-west.

I pose a simple question: “Offense or defense first?”

“Offense” he responds casually.

“Ok, first I’m going to ask you to come around behind my desk so you can see some of the plays I’m going to run for you. So we know this kid can shoot standstill threes. That’s something he can leverage to expand his game and become a useful player. His stats and shooting splits speak for themselves. His TS% and EFG% in the G-League are at Harden levels of efficiency, 62.7 and 59.9 percent respectively. The problem though.”

He jumps in quickly, “standstill shooters aren’t that useful. I mean it doesn’t hurt to have guys that can only shoot threes, but they better make up for it on the other end.”

“Exactly.” It was during this rude interruption that I realize the man was dressed in exactly the same manner as the first time I saw him. White polo, black pants. His wardrobe must look like half an Oreo. I continued, “probably the most important additional skill for him to develop is being able to attack a closeout. If he can add some cutting to the recipe we might have a cake that’s worth eating.”

“Strange metaphor, but I agree.”

“Here’s the problem. When he catches against a closeout, he’s not really dynamic enough to get all the way to the rim often. He basically barely does it. Here’s a collection of five catch and go’s from the G League and one from the NBA. While he gets fouled on every single one of these in the G League, it even looks slow against lesser competition, and some of the fouls are more questionable than your wardrobe…. Respectfully Mr. President.” I turn to my right to see his reaction, and he has none. I was beginning to suspect the man was some sort of basketball robot or something. Perhaps the subject of my next investigation.

“The last play is telling. It comes against mostly NBA players, I mean it’s the Magic, but they are technically in the NBA.” The man’s lip didn’t even quiver despite that hilarious quip. My clients usually love that joke, except John Hammond, guy has a stick up his ass. I nevertheless persist, “while he sort of gets all the way to the rim, he’s met by Robin Lopez who erases the layup. That thing had no chance. Given that Hauser is already 24, I don’t think he’s suddenly going to be dunking over people like T-Mac. I just don’t think your team should expect Hauser to ever be able to consistently put pressure on the rim off pump and go’s or grab and go’s. Once in a while he flashes a little bit of playmaking out of this type of stuff, but it isn’t consistent and he hasn’t shown it against NBA players. There is one thing he can do when he attacks closeouts though.”

As I finish that sentence, I can sense a trickle of excitement come over my guest. In unison, we turn toward each other, and as if we were having a collective epiphany, we both blurt out:

“Pull up from mid range!” Our eyes meet. His giddiness rubs off on me. I hadn’t felt true excitement over a connection like this since she left. Never think about that. Work is all that matters.

“Exactly Mr. President. I’m starting to think you might know a thing or two about basketball.” Right back to his dead pan stare. We both turn back to my computer. “His 2pt shot numbers tell the whole story, here it is as a chart.”

He reviews the chart quickly and directs a question at me. “What are we looking at for sample sizes? That long mid range isn’t great, but it’s also not terrible from there, and the floater range is incredible.”

“Unfortunately, not that large. He only took 25 shots from short mid range and a measly 16 from long, but if you believe in his shooting.”

“I do.”

The quick interjection catches me off guard. “Well, then it makes sense that he would have soft touch from these areas, and he’s really clever with how he gets some of these shots off. Using the threat of the jumper to get to his spots and his size to create space and shoot over smaller defenders. Let’s take a look at the deep mid range first.”

“This first play is a classic three point threat’s shot. He’s operating as a screener out of a nifty double pick play where he’s supposed to hit the point guard’s man with a drag screen and then pop while Kabangele rolls to the rim. Hauser’s man jumps to the paint to help. Hauser gets the pass, pump fakes and creates loads of space. Instead of forcing the drive into a clogged paint, he pulls it. The shot misses, but he can get this shot in the NBA, and I think he can make it.

“This one is a little different. He’s running a two man game with Luke Kornet. Kornet creates acres of space with his large and strange body and the opposing big is in drop. Hauser just walks into that space and it’s money. You weren’t kidding Mr. President, he does have a pure jumpshot.”

“I wouldn’t be here if he didn’t.”

He was right, but a distinct feeling of rudeness washes over me. “I absolutely love what he does here. He’s spaced out above the break while the PG and Center run a pick and roll. The guard kicks it to him and Hauser doesn’t wait for the ball to get to him, he attacks the ball, catches with a running start and gets to his spot. Easy rise up, easy money. That would be a good nickname for him, easy money.”

“I prefer Hause Money.” Editor’s note — Shoutout /u/NoScrotesMcFly

“Sure.” He was right again, that was better, but I’m not emotionally willing to admit that. “All of this is great, but what I really love is his ability to get to the shorter jumpers and make those. I’m not sure he will get there as often in the NBA, but it’s good he has that skill. Let’s check out a few of those plays for good measure”

“That is exactly what I’m paying you for.”

Again, he makes a point that doesn’t need making. I thought mid-westerners were supposed to be nice? Given that I’m a consummate professional despite my ridiculous name, I carry on. “I really like how quick he makes decisions when the ball is swung to him. He doesn’t have a quick first step, but he’s got a good understanding of momentum and spacing. He uses that to his advantage here to get to an easy 10 footer that he buries.

“Take a look at this play in semi transition. Really everything on display here. Fills the lane perfectly, uses the threat of the jumper to get into the paint, pulls up before a contest, and then the soft touch.”

He jumps in with a comment that reads my mind. “It’s disappointing he can’t get himself to the rim, but I’ve seen enough to convince me that you can’t sell out on contesting his jumper. He’s not perfect, but it should be effective enough to keep defenses honest. What about his off-ball game?”

“Mr. President, have you ever watched a movie that you thought was going to suck, but it ended up being way better than you expected?”

“Yes. How to Train Your Dragon was one such experience for me.” His response is so quick it was almost like he had prepped for the question. That movie must have really left a lasting impression on the guy. There’s an awkward pause as I digest what he had just said. I pull out a cigarette and light it. He’s visibly uncomfortable.

“Right…. Anyway, that’s Sam Hauser. He’s got How to Train Your Dragon off-ball game. He’s not just good at moving without the ball, he’s great at it. He endlessly works himself into dangerous positions that defenses don’t expect and makes them pay.

“His timing is unbelievable. The second Pat C turns his head, Hauser is gone and it’s an easy layup. Here, he misses this bunny, but the way he changes tempos, throws the defender off by acting like he’s setting a screen, and then hard cuts at the perfect time is just beautiful. This is a skill the kid can absolutely use in the NBA. Especially when he’s playing with all the talent on your team Mr. President. If he’s lulling defenders to sleep like this when Marcus Smart is the best player on the court, imagine all the space he can find behind defenses when he’s out there with your stars. His tape is riddled with cuts like this, from all over the court.”

The President lets out a cough, likely forced to show his displeasure with me smoking, and follows up, “that’s excellent. I don’t see any reason he can’t be a productive offensive player in the NBA as a tertiary piece of the bench.”

“Couldn’t agree more.” I ash my cigarette.

“Tell me Dick…”

“Magnum.”

He huffs, “tell me Dick Magnum, we don’t think he’ll be able to create for himself off the dribble do we?”

“Ummmm no, definitely not.”

“That’s a shame, so what about his defense?”

“I’ll see you in two weeks Mr. President.”

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