Not particularly strong, long, laterally quick or even altogether committed to the multiple efforts of modern NBA defense, Tyler Herro is no stranger to being targeted on the court. But he's not used to being targeted like this off the court, with his name and game being dragged across all sports-talk platforms and through the toxicity of Twitter discourse.
Such is life as the centerpiece player of the Miami Heat's presumed trade package for Damian Lillard, who in theory should, in addition to the normal basket of draft picks that exchange hands in these blockbuster deals, be valuable enough to fetch the Blazers a young gun with All-Star upside.
After all, the Nets got Mikal Bridges for Kevin Durant. The Thunder got Shai Gilgeous-Alexander for Paul George. The Pelicans got Brandon Ingram for Anthony Davis. Herro, even through the prism of the most optimistic projection, isn't close to that level of player. And he's due $120 million over the next four years.
"The league as a whole has become really skeptical of these one-way guys," an Eastern Conference scout told CBS Sports. "Everyone thinks in terms of the playoffs now. It used to be, if you could score 20 points, you were a dude. No questions asked. But now, if you have a weakness, if you can't hold your own on the defensive end, unless you're a franchise guy, you're going to get played off the court."
Indeed, the Lakers had to cut D'Angelo Russell, a one-time $117 million player who just signed again for nearly $20 million per year, out of their closing lineups in the playoffs. The Warriors could hardly justify playing Jordan Poole, another $100 million-plus player, in last year's postseason before they salary dumped him on the Wizards this summer.
It begs the question: Why are these types of players making so much money if they're not seen as highly valuable players? Part of it can be, and often is, a product of a cap-strapped team, or small-market team, that has little means of replacing the production, so the contract becomes the lesser of evils when pitted against the prospect of losing a good player into whom you've already invested a lot for nothing.
Also, to state the obvious, scoring matters. It's a very select skill. It can get you through a lot of stretches over a long regular season. But scoring pulls more proportionate weight these days. It's part of the ledger, but so is everything else, and if the bottom line is still in the red, then you're looking, albeit through a plus-minus lens sometimes devoid of important contexts, at a negative player.
The reverse is also true. Defensive specialists who pose little to no offensive threat are equally detrimental. The Lakers just lost their Jarred Vanderbilt playoff minutes by almost 10 points per 100 possessions, per CTG. Matisse Thybulle, a legitimately brilliant defender who just got $33 million from Portland, has spent the better part of his young career toggling between the rotational fringes and the end of the bench.
If you're James Harden, or Trae Young, or indeed Lillard, you can get away with owning half the court while paying out the nose on the other (your team will likely, eventually, run up against the ceiling you've built with your own hands, but your value will remain largely intact).
Peripheral players, on the other hand, cannot hinder the efforts of the whole, especially when they're making close to superstar money and are suddenly thrust into the heart of a power-shifting trade, and expect to avoid the referendum that Herro's game is facing right now.
And so we come to the numbers: During the 2022 playoffs, Miami's defensive rating plummeted by 16.4 points with Herro on the floor. His 23% 3-point shooting notwithstanding, almost all of that drop-off came defensively. Is it fair that we're all so closely connecting Miami's surprise run to the 2023 Finals to Herro's absence, which relieved the Heat of having to cover for his defensive deficiencies? Perhaps. But perception sometimes actually is reality.
"Think about it like this: Portland was never able to build a real contender around Dame," the same scout said. "Why? Because he and [CJ] McCollum couldn't defend, and they never figured out the right pieces to cover for that. Now you've got [Anfernee] Simons, another score-first guy. We'll see about Scoot [Henderson], but he's small, we know that. So defensively, you've got the same issues in the backcourt. And now you're going to add Herro? It's just not a good fit."
Which is why a third team might well have to become involved to facilitate this trade, one that views Herro as valuable enough to warrant the forfeiture of a first-round pick, which could then be rerouted to Portland.
Is Herro worth a first-round pick? In the right situation, yes. It's a stretch to walk the Dan LeBatard line that Herro is better than Tyrese Maxey (who's a much better 3-point shooter and a blur to the basket), but he's a good player.
Over Herro's first four seasons he has averaged 20-5-4 on 38% 3-point shooting. He can create some off the dribble, particularly in pick-and-roll and two-man actions. He's a decent passer with the leverage his shot can generate. He hardly scores in the paint and almost never threatens the rim, but he's about as confident a scorer and shooter as you'll find, if only on moderately efficient marks.
Last year, Herro's 114.1 points per 100 shot attempts registered in the 50th percentile among wings, per Cleaning the Glass, while BBall-Index had him as one of the least efficient isolation scorers in the league. His effective field-goal percentage has ranked below league average every season.
This is the not the profile of a player who can get away with being a defensive target, let alone one who's supposed to be seen as a worthy centerpiece of a trade for one of the 10-12 best players in the world. It speaks to the marked shift we're seeing in personnel priorities. Teams wants stars and two-way players. Herro is one of many players who don't fit either bill, and now more than ever these one-way contributors are feeling the squeeze.