LeBron Remains the Same: The Game Has Changed and LeBron James is Still Great

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

LeBron James is still LeBron James. He is still the NBA's most fearsome force as he comes splashing into the paint, still a marvel in the way he doesn't so much weave through defenses as puncture them, still startling in the way he transitions from barreling broad-shouldered charge to feathery floater. He dunks as hard as he ever has, which is as hard as anyone has ever dunked, and is still the NBA's most efficient paintball creator. He is also, increasingly, an anachronism.

The Golden State Warriors' free-flowing turbo offense and Stephen Curry's rangeless riflery have both dominated and redefined the NBA for going on two years, now, which leaves Playoff LeBron's game—ploddingly insistent iso sets initiated 30 feet from the basket—looking downright antique. There are still a few players who can do what he does, but it's easy to foresee a future in which no one even bothers to try.

Curry's shooting has altered perceptions about where points can come from, and continues to do so. But it has also changed the idea of what a franchise player can be, and how he can play. The old conventional wisdom cast Curry as the type of player team builders believe supplement a wing deity like LeBron—someone who stretches the defense and makes it easier for LeBron to do his work at sawed-off shotgun range. Curry, in his ongoing and history-defying breakout, has opened the possibility of the specialist as star. He has also created a sharp contrast with LeBron, whose midrange and perimeter games—which were never spectacular—suddenly look deeply insufficient.

This is an old problem for James that we can now see in a new light. San Antonio's gapping defense during the 2012 NBA Finals nullified LeBron's at-will slashing; Kawhi Leonard lagged off him, packing the strong side paint and essentially ceding pull-up jumpers to the NBA MVP. Daring James to prove he had confidence in his J was the strategic equivalent to Hack-A-Shaq, and it worked. Until Ray Allen moonwalked into the right corner to tie Game 6, LeBron was shooting 33.9 percent outside the paint and 29.2 percent behind the 3-point line.

The shortcomings that San Antonio's schemes highlighted now have the hard look of fact. On the eve of LeBron's 31st birthday, NBA.com's John Schumann put LeBron's bricklaying under scrutiny by charting the league's worst high-volume shooters from outside the paint. LeBron's 28.5 field goal percentage ranked last.

Just like his first post-Miami campaign, LeBron crested after New Year's, shooting 38.2 percent outside the paint, but this was still the worst shooting season of his career. That's especially true from downtown. He rattled in just over a third of his treys, yet his 15.2 percent three-point shooting in regular season fourth quarters plus overtime ranked last out of 127 players with at least 50 attempts. His accuracy has trailed off from 2011's crest of 40 percent shooting outside the paint to the ( highly circumstantial)26.7 percent nadir he plummeted to in last year's postseason.

But that's what friends are for. LeBron won't win shootouts by rifling up threes; he has a chance as the magazine feeding a smoking chamber. LeBron's 6-of-10 shooting from deep against Atlanta compensates for his 4-of-19 stink bombing from downtown in the first round, but much of the good he's done has been downstream. Floor spacers Kevin Love, Kyrie Irving, Matthew Dellavedova, Channing Frye, and J.R. Smith, have thrived off of their drive and kick synergy with LeBron (and Kyrie). Last month, Smith became the Cavs single-season record holder for 3-pointers made on the same night the team tied Golden State's record of 16 straight games with 10 treys. On Wednesday night, in Game 2 of the Eastern Conference semis, the Cavs engineered a NBA record 25 treys against an Atlanta defense which packs the paint at the expense of guarding the arc.

We see LeBron's idiosyncrasies through a microscope. We can analyze how he's twice as accurate when he executes a statuesque two-footed landing versus his off-balance one-legged post-jumper stance. Conversely, past stars are perceived through the Hubble Space Telescope in standard definition ESPN Classics and YouTube clips; we didn't have SportVU player tracking to contrast Magic Johnson and Larry Bird, and so we just print the legend. LeBron's preternatural combination of length, brawn, speed, awareness, athleticism, and acumen was supposed to grant him dominion over the league, and it did. But the better we understand it, the more the seams in his greatness stand out too.

Right up until the moment that the future arrived, LeBron appeared to be era-proof. The brawnier LeBron, who carved out a niche at power forward in Miami, would have excelled driving through hand-checks in the Rated-R grind it out 1990s battles. The up-tempo pace of the 80's would have been advantageous to LeBron, too, and he'd have been a Wilt-like freak (on the court) in the defense-less 60's and 70's. He even had an era of his own during his four brilliant seasons in Miami. Now, Cleveland's power-ball approach seems to belong to the past.

LeBron is still the most superior basketball player in the world—he may no longer be the best or the most productive, but no one his size can or ever has been able to do what he does. Curry is beloved because he is great, but also because of how much he does to get there—the labyrinth of crafty fakes, sui generis dribble moves, and those Temple Run streaks through off-ball screeners to get his shot off. LeBron doesn't have to work that hard. It's easier for him, but analytics and time have made it easier to see where and how the game is difficult for him.

His physical gifts have never really captured the imagination; he was always an object of awe, too literal and obvious in his dominance to have Curry's aspirational appeal. But there is something in his game that works in any era: the crux of every possession should be to manifest the simplest shot available. Nobody does that better than LeBron, whether he's doing it for himself or his teammates. Even in the future, that will play.