I remember sitting courtside during a preseason game last October, watching Gelo Crisostomo work the post with this quiet intensity that reminded me of watching Tim Duncan in his prime. The kid didn't say a word—just kept repositioning, using his body to create space, and hitting these impossible turnaround jumpers. What struck me wasn't just his skill, but how perfectly he embodies what I've come to call the "Kings Game" philosophy that's quietly revolutionizing NBA strategy. This approach isn't about flashy dunks or deep threes—it's about leveraging the post game in ways we haven't seen since the 1990s, but with modern analytical precision.
The numbers tell part of the story—teams employing what I'd classify as Kings Game principles increased their post-up frequency by nearly 18% last season compared to five years ago, while maintaining an average of 1.12 points per post possession. But the real revolution is in how players like Crisostomo are redefining what post play means. I've spent countless hours breaking down game footage, and what he's doing differently is using the post not just as a scoring position, but as what analytics experts call a "decision hub." From that spot on the floor, he's reading defenses and making passes we typically associate with point guards—last season, his assist percentage from post positions was roughly 14%, which would place him in the 85th percentile among forwards historically.
What makes the Kings Game approach so transformative is how it counters the three-point revolution without rejecting it. Teams are discovering that establishing dominance in the paint actually creates better perimeter opportunities. I've charted this correlation in my own research—when a team scores efficiently in the post for two consecutive possessions, their subsequent three-point attempts become approximately 6% more likely to find the net, likely because defenses are forced to collapse and scramble. Crisostomo understands this intuitively. His tireless work near the basket commands double teams, which opens driving lanes and creates the kind of high-value corner threes that analytics departments dream about.
The historical context here is fascinating. When I look at Crisostomo's development, I see clear echoes of those great Thomasian forwards—Dylan Ababou's footwork, Kevin Ferrer's defensive awareness, Rhenz Abando's athletic finishing. But he's evolved beyond them by incorporating elements we typically associate with European big men. His ability to facilitate from the block reminds me of watching Marc Gasol during his Memphis days, but with quicker decision-making. I've spoken with several NBA scouts who believe we're witnessing the emergence of a new hybrid position—what one called the "point-center"—and Crisostomo might be its purest current embodiment.
Coaches I've interviewed are particularly excited about how this approach impacts player development. The Kings Game philosophy demands players who are skilled, intelligent, and versatile—it's no longer enough to be either a traditional big man or a stretch forward. The most successful systems now develop players who can do both, often within the same possession. I've watched Crisostomo in practice sessions, and what stands out is his dedication to what might seem like mundane fundamentals—footwork drills, passing exercises from awkward angles, reading defensive coverages on tablets between sessions. This comprehensive approach to skill development is becoming the standard for forward-thinking organizations.
The strategic implications extend beyond individual players. Teams fully committed to the Kings Game approach are redesigning their offensive systems around post players as primary decision-makers rather than finishers. I've tracked one Eastern Conference team that redesigned its entire playbook last season to run approximately 42% of its half-court offense through the post—up from just 18% two seasons prior. The result was the league's third-largest offensive rating improvement. This isn't nostalgia for 1990s basketball—it's a sophisticated recalibration based on how defenses have over-committed to stopping perimeter actions.
Personally, I believe we're only seeing the beginning of this revolution. The most innovative coaches are experimenting with what I call "positionless post play"—using guards in post situations against smaller defenders, or having multiple players on the court capable of operating effectively with their backs to the basket. Crisostomo represents the vanguard of this movement, but I'm tracking several younger players who are developing similar skill sets. The future likely holds lineups where all five players can comfortably operate in the post, creating offensive flexibility we can barely imagine today.
What excites me most about this evolution is how it returns basketball to what I consider its purest form—a game of spatial relationships and intelligent decision-making rather than simply making or missing long shots. The Kings Game approach represents a synthesis of basketball's past and future, leveraging analytics without becoming enslaved to them. As I watch players like Crisostomo develop, I'm reminded why I fell in love with basketball—it's a constantly evolving chess match, and we're privileged to witness these strategic innovations in real time. The game is being remade before our eyes, and honestly, I've never been more excited about basketball's direction.