In the high-stakes theater of the NBA, there exists a fundamental law of physics that governs championship teams: two bodies cannot occupy the same space without a consequence. For decades, this law has applied directly to “heliocentric” players—those singular, ball-dominant creators whose value is highest when the entire offense orbits around them. When two such forces merge, history has consistently shown that one must inevitably sacrifice their peak, adapt their role, or alternate possessions with frustrating predictability.

It’s the reason critics and analysts raised a collective, skeptical eyebrow when the Los Angeles Lakers found themselves in possession of two of the league’s most demanding on-ball talents: the transcendent Luka Dončić and the rapidly ascending Austin Reaves. By all historical metrics, this partnership should be defined by collision, competition, and ultimately, diminishing returns.

And yet, under the guidance of first-time head coach JJ Redick—a man whose hire was met with widespread skepticism due to his lack of traditional coaching experience—that historical precedent has been decisively shattered. What is unfolding in Los Angeles is not merely coexisting; it is a true, terrifying integration. Both Dončić and Reaves are not only having statistically career-best seasons, but they are demonstrably making each other better when they share the court. Redick is doing the impossible, and the secret lies in a profound philosophical shift that redefines how an offense should be built.

The Ghosts of History: Sacrifice, Alternation, and Egos

To truly grasp the magnitude of Redick’s achievement, we must first look back at the classic on-ball collisions that defined recent NBA history.

The most famous example, perhaps, is the arrival of LeBron James in Miami to join Dwyane Wade. Wade, only two seasons removed from scoring 30 points a game and comfortably a top-five player, dominated the game with the ball in his hands. When the Heat finally achieved their championship ceiling in 2012, Wade’s points per game had dropped significantly—a necessary, painful sacrifice. He became the secondary creator, the co-star who took a backseat to the ball-dominant James. The team won because both players were transcendent, but Wade’s individual peak was undeniably behind him. The message was clear: one must submit to the other for the greater good.

More recently, the pairing of Dončić and Kyrie Irving in Dallas offered a different, but equally challenging, dynamic: pure alternation. For long stretches, the Mavericks’ offense became a turn-based system: “Your turn, my turn.” While often electrifying, it lacked the seamless, unpredictable flow that defines elite team offense, relying too heavily on isolation brilliance rather than collective motion.

The historical pattern is an unambiguous one: two heliocentric creators can win, but the sum of their parts is rarely greater than the parts themselves. In Los Angeles, Redick was supposed to face this same dilemma, forcing him to choose who would sacrifice or how they would alternate. But instead of the familiar friction, he engineered an explosion of synergy.

The Statistical Anomaly: Two Career Years, Zero Friction

The numbers put Redick’s impact into startling context. Luka Dončić is currently enjoying a historic start to his season, averaging a ridiculous 34 points and nine assists per 75 possessions with a career-high true shooting percentage. His offensive impact is graded as the very best of his illustrious career. By the old rules, this should necessitate a significant decline in Reaves’s production.

The reality, however, is the inverse.

Austin Reaves is also enjoying a career-best start across the board in points, efficiency, and overall offensive impact. Per advanced metrics, Reaves’s 97th percentile offensive EPM places him firmly in the company of elite guards like Steph Curry, Jaylen Brunson, and Tyrese Maxey. This is a level of production virtually unheard of for a team’s second option playing alongside a player with Dončić’s usage rate.

The most crucial statistic, however, relates to their shared minutes. When Dončić and Reaves share the floor, the Lakers’ offense is at its absolute peak. They score more effectively, they limit turnovers, and both players have a higher on-court offensive rating together than when either plays without the other. This amplification—this result where the combined whole is truly greater than the two parts—is the inverse of the diminishing returns that plagued historical tandems. The central question for the rest of the league, then, becomes: How exactly is Redick achieving this miracle?

Redick’s Profound Insight: Principles Over People

Redick’s insight is subtle but profound, representing a fundamental paradigm shift in coaching philosophy.

Most coaches begin with their stars and build outward: “This is Luka’s offense. How do all the other players fit around him?” This approach is star-centric, often leading to predictable sets and the creation of the aforementioned friction points.

Redick flips the script entirely. He starts with principles. His philosophy dictates: “This is how we want to play. Now, how do our stars execute it?”

That simple difference—moving from who gets the ball to how we create the best shot—changes everything about the offense’s structure. It removes the need for either star to relinquish their talent, instead incentivizing constant interactivity. We are now seeing possessions where Luka Dončić, one of the best on-ball creators alive, is setting a screen and popping out for a three-point shot off an Austin Reaves drive. This is not sacrifice; this is both players actively making each other more dangerous, pulling the defense in two different, impossible directions.

Redick has created a system that views both players as primary options, asking the surrounding pieces—including the historically dominant LeBron James—to support them with constant screens, cuts, and movement to generate maximum space. It is no wonder that both Dončić and Reaves are shooting career highs at the rim; the system is designed to elevate them simultaneously.

The Synergy Engine: Weaponizing Gravity and Evolved Roles

The tactical execution of this philosophy is a masterpiece of modern NBA strategy, specifically designed to maximize Reaves without cutting into Dončić’s indispensable dominance.

Luka’s Gravitational Pull: Dončić’s mere existence, even far from the play, forces the defense into an impossible choice. He is an offensive black hole whose gravitational pull is so powerful that the opposing team’s defense is almost always tilted towards him. Redick and his staff are not shy about leveraging this. This tilt often allows Reaves to operate in a virtual 4-on-4 environment. The simple swing-swing play is an essential component, giving Reaves the space to either attack off the catch or keep the defense in rotation by making the next pass. These touches don’t “steal” from Luka; they weaponize his gravity, establishing Reaves as a true second launch point for the same offensive engine.

The Evolved Dončić: Redick has also subtly changed how Dončić dominates. While he still controls the ball, the way he controls it has evolved. With Reaves often handling the primary action, it frees up Dončić to leverage his other, often underrated, skills. Rather than endlessly creating from the perimeter, Luka can exploit cross-matches and generate high-floor buckets on the interior when the Lakers need a reliable score. The long, monotonous possessions that sometimes plagued his previous team have been replaced by crisp, efficient sets that seek to give Luka space and options to process the defense in a timely fashion.

Built-in Options and Counters: The new offense is defined by plays with options and counters built into their foundation. Take a seemingly simple pick-and-roll: every other player is strategically placed—a corner shooter, a diver, a weak-side low man. Dončić is then placed in a position to be the processor, making the choice that forces the defense to make the hardest possible rotation. Furthermore, plays are designed to be in motion before Dončić even touches the ball, such as a back-screen initiated by Luka for a teammate. This is massive because it prevents defenses from “loading up” on him, significantly reducing his physical burden without sacrificing his impact or usage.

The Final Pillar: Empowering the 41-Year-Old King

The most fascinating wrinkle in Redick’s design is the seamless integration of a third historically ball-dominant player: LeBron James. Even as he approaches 41, LeBron remains one of the most versatile passers and high-IQ players in the sport. Redick’s system doesn’t ask LeBron to sacrifice his game in the way Wade did, but instead, asks him to embrace a new kind of power.

If James focuses his energy on screening, cutting, and defending—a versatile, connector role rather than a heliocentric one—he enhances the entire structure. Redick is building what can only be described as a three-initiator ecosystem with no friction points. Luka gets to be Luka, Reaves gets the on-ball reps of a high-level secondary star, and LeBron, in his twilight years, is not diminished but empowered by a role tailored to his evolving strengths.

This system is rare, unprecedented, and revolutionary.

JJ Redick was doubted as a podcaster turned coach; a first-time head man with no experience on the bench. Yet, what he is currently doing with two of the most complex offensive pieces in the NBA is genuinely remarkable. This is not luck or a temporary hot streak. It is true integration, built on a belief that basketball doesn’t have to be “your turn, my turn.”

It can be our turn.

Against all historical precedent and every pattern seen with previous superstar tandems, Redick is making it work. The Lakers’ offense is already humming at a frightening 121 points per 100 possessions when Dončić and Reaves are on the floor. And the scariest part for the rest of the league? They are not even shooting their best yet. As efficiency normalizes, this team looks poised to be a dominant force, catapulting the Lakers deep into the postseason and cementing JJ Redick as the man who solved the NBA’s oldest, most impossible problem.