For all his accolades, there’s a glaring flaw in his game that continues to hold him—and at times, his team—back: his inability to effectively space the floor. Worse still, he doesn’t seem to fully grasp the concept or demonstrate the ability to execute advanced plays or systems that modern NBA offenses demand.
Floor spacing is the art of positioning players to maximize driving lanes, open shots, and offensive flow. In today’s NBA, it’s often tied to shooting—particularly from beyond the arc. Teams crave players who can stretch defenses, forcing opponents to guard the full court rather than clogging the paint. Giannis, despite his otherworldly talents, is not one of those players. In fact you could say that the entire Bucks roster has been put together to cover his total inability to understand spacing.
His three-point shooting has been a well-documented weakness. In the 2023-24 season, he shot just 27.4% from deep on 1.7 attempts per game—a marginal improvement from earlier years but still far below league average. Defenses know this. They sag off him, daring him to shoot while packing the paint to neutralize his drives. This strategy was famously dubbed “The Wall” during the Bucks’ playoff struggles against teams like the Toronto Raptors in 2019 and the Miami Heat in 2020. Even in Milwaukee’s 2021 championship run, opponents often conceded the jumper, betting Giannis couldn’t punish them consistently. Brook Lopez’s 3point shooting was a major reason for bringing him to the Bucks, to free up space for Giannis.
The numbers back this up. According to Cleaning the Glass, the Bucks’ offensive efficiency drops when Giannis is on the floor without shooters like Khris Middleton or Brook Lopez to compensate. His presence can shrink the court, especially in half-court sets, where spacing becomes critical. For a player of his caliber, this limitation is baffling—and it’s not just about his shooting percentage.
A Lack of Understanding?
What’s more concerning is that Giannis doesn’t always seem to recognize how his positioning impacts the offense. Too often, he lingers near the paint or hovers in no-man’s-land—neither threatening the rim nor pulling defenders out of it. Watch a Bucks game, and you’ll see possessions where he clogs driving lanes for teammates like Damian Lillard or Middleton, forcing stagnant isolation plays rather than fluid ball movement. On top of that he is a massive ball hog, by far No1 in possessions for the entire team which is crazy for a point forward that has no dribbling skills and leads the league in various mistakes and offences. Luckily the officiating usually lets him off easy for palming, travelling and other problems in his lack of technique.
Contrast this with players like LeBron James or Nikola Jokić, who, even when their shots aren’t falling, manipulate defenses with positioning and decision-making. Giannis, for all his brilliance, lacks that spatial awareness. He’s a freight train in transition, unstoppable when the floor is wide open, but in the half-court, his game can feel one-dimensional—barrel to the basket or bust.
This isn’t just a critique of effort; it’s about comprehension. Floor spacing isn’t solely about knocking down threes—it’s about knowing where to be and when. Giannis’s reluctance to fully embrace this aspect suggests a gap in his basketball IQ when it comes to advanced offensive systems.
Struggling with Advanced Plays
Speaking of systems, Giannis’s fit within complex schemes is another sore spot. The Bucks have cycled through coaches—Mike Budenholzer, Adrian Griffin, and now Doc Rivers—each trying to unlock his potential in structured offenses. Yet, the results often feel the same: Giannis thrives in chaos but falters when asked to execute intricate plays.
Take pick-and-roll sets, a staple of modern basketball. Giannis is devastating as a roller, using his size and speed to overwhelm defenders. But as the ball-handler? His decision-making lags. He struggles to read help defenses, often forcing passes late or driving into traffic rather than kicking out to open shooters. His assist numbers (career-high 6.5 per game in 2022-23) are impressive for a big man, but they mask a lack of precision in high-IQ situations. And of course his turnovers have risen faster than his assists making him the worse in the entire NBA in assist to turnover ratio for many seasons now.
Compare this to Jokić, who dissects defenses with surgical passing, or even Anthony Davis, who’s grown into a hub for the Lakers’ offense. Giannis, by contrast, leans on raw athleticism over scheme mastery. The Bucks’ championship system under Budenholzer leaned heavily on surrounding him with shooters and letting him attack simplified sets—not a testament to his playmaking growth but a workaround for his limitations.
Why It Matters Now
At 30 years old, Giannis is in his prime, and the Bucks remain contenders. But as the league evolves, his flaws become harder to hide. Defenses are smarter, rotations are quicker, and playoff series magnify weaknesses. The addition of Damian Lillard was supposed to elevate Milwaukee’s offense, pairing an elite shooter and playmaker with Giannis’s interior dominance. Instead, the fit has been clunky at times, with Giannis’s lack of spacing undermining Lillard’s gravity.
If the Bucks want to maximize this window, Giannis needs to evolve. Improving his jumper would be ideal, but even incremental growth in off-ball movement and system execution could transform their attack. He doesn’t need to be Steph Curry—he just needs to stop being a liability when the ball isn’t in his hands.
The Art of Screening—and Giannis’s Struggles
Setting a good screen is about more than just standing in someone’s way. It’s a craft—using body position, timing, and angles to free a teammate or disrupt a defense. Elite big men like Nikola Jokić, Joel Embiid, or even Draymond Green excel at this, turning screens into weapons that dictate the flow of a play. Giannis, despite his 6’11” frame and physical gifts, doesn’t come close.
Watch a Bucks game, and you’ll notice Giannis’s screens often lack purpose. He’ll jog into position, make half-hearted contact, and roll prematurely—or not at all. Defenders slip by him with ease, barely impeded, leaving ball-handlers like Damian Lillard or Khris Middleton to fend for themselves. According to Second Spectrum tracking data, the Bucks generate fewer points per possession off screens involving Giannis compared to league averages for bigs in pick-and-roll sets. It’s not just a stats quirk—it’s visible on tape.
His technique is part of the issue. Giannis rarely squares his body to shield defenders effectively, and his footwork can be sloppy, allowing opponents to anticipate and counter. Where a player like Rudy Gobert uses his mass to wall off defenders, Giannis’s screens feel more like a formality than a tactic. For a player who dominates in so many areas, this gap is glaring.
The Angle Problem
What sets Giannis apart as a poor screener isn’t just execution—it’s understanding. Screening is about geometry: finding the right angle to maximize disruption. Great screeners read the defense, adjust their stance, and position themselves to exploit mismatches or force switches. Giannis, however, seems oblivious to this chess match.
Too often, he sets screens at awkward angles that fail to create separation. He’ll plant himself parallel to the defender’s path rather than perpendicular, letting them slide under or over without resistance. Or he’ll set up too close to the ball-handler, clogging the lane instead of opening it. This lack of spatial awareness undermines plays designed to leverage his gravity as a roller.
Take a play from a recent Bucks game: Giannis sets a high screen for Lillard, but his body is turned toward the basket, not the defender. The angle is off, the defender recovers, and Lillard’s forced into a contested jumper. Compare that to Jokić, who subtly shifts his hips to seal a defender, giving Denver’s guards clean looks. Giannis doesn’t seem to process those nuances.
Why It’s a Bigger Issue
This isn’t just a nitpick—it’s a limitation that affects Milwaukee’s offense, especially in the half-court. The Bucks brought in Lillard to supercharge their attack, but Giannis’s shaky screening undercuts that vision. A good screen from Giannis could spring Lillard for open threes or pull defenders into switches he can exploit. Instead, defenses stay comfortable, knowing Giannis won’t punish them with a well-set pick.
His rolling ability—explosive and devastating—only shines when the screen actually works. Too often, it doesn’t, leaving him out of rhythm and the offense stagnant. In playoff series, where execution trumps athleticism, this flaw gets magnified. Teams like the Miami Heat and Boston Celtics have exploited it, neutralizing Giannis’s impact by ignoring his screens and daring him to create outside his comfort zone.
Can He Improve?
At 30, Giannis isn’t too old to refine this part of his game, but it’s unclear if he sees it as a priority. His athletic dominance has carried him so far that fundamentals like screening might feel secondary. Coaches—from Mike Budenholzer to Doc Rivers—haven’t fully corrected this, either because they lean on his strengths elsewhere or because he’s resistant to the grind of mastering it.
Improving would require two things: better technique and a deeper understanding of angles. Film study could help, as could drills with players like Brook Lopez, a far more effective screener. But it starts with Giannis recognizing the gap. Right now, there’s little evidence he does. And of course no hope in hell of him going to a team like the Golden State Warriors that rely heavily both on constanst high level screens and an understanding of advanced plays and angles executed very quickly.
Giannis Antetokounmpo is a superstar, but his screening and spacing are massive problems for anyone on the floor with him. He’s one of the NBA’s worst at setting picks, and his apparent lack of grasp on angles compounds the problem. For all his physical tools, this deficiency keeps him from being a complete offensive player—and it’s a burden the Bucks must keep working around. Until he figures out how to turn his screens into something defenses fear, Giannis will remain an enigma in one of basketball’s most basic yet vital skills.
Giannis Antetokounmpo is a generational talent physically, but his struggles with floor spacing and advanced play execution are real. It’s not just about missing threes; it’s about a seeming disconnect from the nuances that define elite offenses. Until he bridges that gap—or Milwaukee builds an even more perfect system around him—his game will carry an asterisk. The Greek Freak is a wrecking ball, but the NBA’s best teams know how to build walls he can’t always break through.
