Channing Frye Knows His Role, And The Cavaliers Are Better For It

This article is part of VICE Sports' 2016 NBA Playoffs coverage.

Tying your basketball aspirations to LeBron James is both a strong bet and a thankless pursuit. Because he is so incredibly versatile—because, to save us both time, he is LeBron James—he will make things easier for all his teammates. There's risk involved, and little room for error, if only because joining him will eventually require stepping up on the brightest, most scrutinized stage in the sport. But there's a secret freedom inherent in playing with James. Yes, it will never be about you. No, you will almost certainly never have to do anything but get in where you fit in. But if you can play your role, the reward will be immense.

Channing Frye, who has played multiple roles throughout his decade in the NBA, is supremely well suited for just this sort of gig, although none of his previous roles have suited him as well as his current one with the Cleveland Cavaliers. At 6-foot-11, he has a center's height but has long eschewed the low post cubicle that was once that position's designated workplace in favor of a swanky office with a view along the perimeter. In his first professional season, as a member of the New York Knicks, Frye put up only nine three-point shots. Just five years later, he attempted 439 three-pointers for the Phoenix Suns. Much of this is the game meeting him halfway; Frye has always been an unusually tall outside shooter, and there is plenty of work for that type of player in today's NBA.

And yet Frye began this season, with Orlando, in limbo. He fluctuated from occasional starter to offensive spark plug, but also spent a good deal of time shackled to the bench. The team was trying to blend young talent with hilariously unrealistic playoff goals, and the resulting cocktail was more Molotov than martini. Former head coach Scott Skiles didn't know what to do with Frye and, judging from his resignation after the season, it's hard to say he knew what to do with anyone on that haphazardly assembled roster.

When Frye came to Cleveland in a mid-season deal, his role cleared up considerably. "Just go out there, play hard, shoot, and get out of LeBron's way," was how Frye described it to VICE Sports when he returned to Florida's theme park capital with his new team.

If that sounds overly simplistic, consider Frye's impact during the postseason. He's shooting an astronomical 59.4 percent from three-point range and has an effective field-goal rate (81.4) higher than most players' free-throw percentage. If teams collapse on James' furious drives to the rim, Frye will be left wide open, and will make those teams pay. It's not complicated, but it works. The Cavs have asked opposing teams, politely but firmly, to pick their poison, and the result was 10 straight playoff wins before the Cavs dropped Game 3 of the Eastern Conference Finals in Toronto and the mounting belief that the Cavaliers, among all potential challengers, have a real chance against either of the Western Conference's surviving juggernauts.

Frye's playoff performance isn't a complete aberration, considering his decade-long evolution into a prolific shooter; he's now at nearly 39 percent from three-point range. But it does emphasize Cleveland's—or, likely, LeBron's—knack for maximizing a player's abilities while crystallizing their role on the team. While the Warriors seem to thrive on carefully orchestrated chaos, the Cavaliers maintain a delicate balance that is dependent upon everyone doing their part. As the team cycles out the washed veterans that came in with LeBron to Instill A Winning Culture—and as center Timofey Mozgov has been slowed even further by injury—and replaces them with players like Frye, the machine is running more smoothly.

Frye is one of several players who have found fulfillment in orbiting Planet LeBron and slotting in behind co-stars Kyrie Irving and Kevin Love. James Jones' career as a shoot-first, -last and -only player has been extended for years because of his ability to blend seamlessly alongside James, first in Miami and now in Cleveland. J.R. Smith has been given new life since escaping the dysfunction bog at Madison Square Garden, and has become one of James' most-trusted teammates. Matthew Dellavedova stepped forward during the last postseason and is set to cash in as a free agent in a way few undrafted rookies out of St. Mary's can dream about.

When it works, it's great. When it doesn't, it looks something like Saturday's Game 3. With Irving and Love underperforming—they shot a combined 4-of-28 from the field—and with James unwilling or unable to carry a heavier scoring load, the supporting cast was exposed in a 15-point loss that didn't feel quite that close. That wasn't because Frye (11 points), Smith (22 points) and the rest didn't play well; they did all that they are required to do, and that has worked more often than not. As we saw in last year's NBA Finals, so long as James is still able to dominate in the way he does, even a roster of misfit toys can get Cleveland somewhere awfully close to the mountaintop. This year, Irving and Love are healthy, and supporting toys like Frye are a much better fit.

Frye has only made the playoffs three times in his NBA career, and now finds himself in the enviable position of doing some of his best work, in a role that plays to his strengths, on the best team of his career. For a player who started this year on a team muddling through a lengthy roster overhaul, it's quite a step up. "This doesn't happen to a lot of people, going from a rebuilding team to a title contender," Frye says, "so I'm taking advantage of the opportunity and making the most of it." Part of why Frye has so readily embraced his role as a straight-shooting sidekick is that he knows he's lucky to have it. The Cavs are lucky to have him, too.