It’s the off-season, which means time to reflect from our most recent season, and in particular our offensive efficiency. My thought process started with reverse engineering what I’d consider as an idealistic style of play on offense. Which, for whatever reason lead to thinking of a finished Rubik’s Cube. Full transparency, I have never completed. But in a lot of ways, building an offensive system seem comparable: identifying pieces, testing patterns, and hopefully discovering which combinations can bring the whole thing into alignment.
Continuing the Rubik’s Cube analogy beginning with a collection of jumbled colors.
Imagine each color on the cube representing a family of actions within an offensive system—shuffles, horns, stacks, or any other series a team might run. The goal isn’t simply to collect actions, but to organize them so they connect. What begins as a scattered collection of movements gradually becomes a coordinated sequence where each piece fits within a larger structure.
Every offense starts with personnel. Before the first action is installed, a coaching staff has to understand the pieces they’re working with and the possibilities those pieces create. A bigger lineup might point toward establishing presence in the paint, beginning with simple rim runs that flow into high–low opportunities. A roster built for speed and spacing might lean into early off-ball screening and perimeter movement, creating cutting lanes that lead to inside-out attacks.
Those early decisions begin shaping the identity of the offense. Once a style is identified, the next step is helping players recognize the shapes the offense will consistently create. Over time, the team learns not just where to be, but why those positions matter within the overall structure.
From there, the system expands.
If the offense is built around interior scoring, actions might evolve to include duck-ins, seals, or entry angles that create easier touches around the rim. Each series builds on the previous one, reinforcing the identity of the system while introducing small variations that keep defenses from settling in.
And this is where the Rubik’s Cube comparison becomes even clearer.
A Rubik’s cube has 54 total squares, but only six colors. The goal isn’t to memorize 54 separate moves. Instead, it’s about understanding a handful of patterns that can be turned and rearranged in different ways.
Offense should work the same way.
You don’t need 54 different quick hitters. In fact, trying to install that many usually creates confusion, not to mention those teams are often easier to scout. A well-built system might feature five or six core series, with options and counters built within them. From those skeleton shapes, a team can generate all sorts of different looks.
Within those layers come the answers to defensive adjustments. A team that fronts the post might trigger a weakside seal or pin opposite plus skip on the perimeter. Switch-heavy defenses might integrate more slips or ghost screens. Traps might call for short rolls and cutting action on the backside.
The foundation provides the identity of the offense. The layers provide the adaptability.
Over time, what emerges is something that feels almost like organized randomness. Players move, screens shift, and spacing adjusts as the possession unfolds. To the defense, the action may appear unpredictable. But to the offense, it’s simply another rotation of the same familiar colors.
Can take a look at Illinois Assistant Coach Tyler Underwood referring to the Illusion of Complexity.
A good offense ultimately gives players the confidence to play fast without feeling rushed. When the structure is clear, players recognize those familiar colors every time the cube turns. A horns entry might flow into a shuffle cut. A post touch might trigger weakside split action. What looks spontaneous to the defense is actually the product of repeated patterns the offense understands instinctively. The cube keeps turning, but the colors always find their way back into place.
Our goal of building an offensive system is not to memorize 54 different moves, but to master a handful of ideas that can be turned in countless directions. When those pieces are aligned, players stop thinking about the next call and start taking ownership of the game based how an opposing team is guarding us. And just like a solved cube, the finished product isn’t random at all—it’s the result of deliberate turns, layered structure, and the patience to build something that works no matter how the game twists.
Coach's Climb 