It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness,
we had everything before us, we had nothing before us…
–A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens
Dickens’ novel is one set in dichotomy. A rush of tremendous hope clashing with the callous harshness of reality. This is a story that I’ve never read, but equipped with Sparknotes and more than my fair share of ignorance, my identity as a more-than-casual observer of the Utah Jazz basketball team was thrust into center stage (it’s that time of the week, I suppose). And how could it not? Supporting such a tragic basketball team is nothing if not melancholy. A franchise that has driven its following to cheer for losses with the promise of future prosperity is not unprecedented, but it’s certainly a catalyst potent enough to tear the very fabric of fandom from itself and replace it with an incomplete husk of its former form. Winning is hollow; applause rings out with every losing effort.
So, when something happens as tragic as Taylor Hendricks’ freak injury from last season, how should a fandom respond when it comes to the impact on their team? Anything other than condolences and support for the player would be completely inexplicable. A team without a future is a team with infinite time to meander in the pit of obscurity. Give more playing time to the Svi Mykhailiuks, Elijah Harklesses, and KJ Martins of the world, and let the team scour the empty blackness of the depths in the meantime.
The haze of darkness may blind even the most astute — those unceasing in offering their valuable attention to empty basketball. When considering the future of the Utah Jazz, rarely was their top 10 selection from the 2022 Draft mentioned as a key piece moving forward. Hendricks has spent much of his NBA tenure on the injured reserve, but has finally gotten to run during Utah’s three preseason games.
In early returns? I think we’ve overlooked just how valuable this stretch four can be as the Jazz take shape. The return of Taylor Hendricks offers more promise than I had ever anticipated.
Welcome to the preseason. It’s time to overreact.
Introducing Taylor Hendricks 2.0
Do you remember playing flag football as a child? My parents were never keen on the idea of their son dressing like a gladiator and smacking his head against other stray craniums at full speed, so tackle football was off the table for little Calvin. Considering my brittle physique and the benefit of over a decade of hindsight, I agree that non-contact football was probably more my speed.
But flag football removed all semblance of safety when the kid with an arm cast stepped onto the field. Oh, fantastic, now I, absent from any protective equipment, get to go head-to-head with Conan the Barbarian and the concrete club fused to his swinging appendage. I wonder who will come out ahead in this mighty clash of the fifth-graders?
That kid broke a bone in his arm. By all logic, he should be at a tremendous physical disadvantage against a perfectly healthy adversary. But logic isn’t here to save you — modern medicine has transformed that scrawny child into a war machine, not entirely unlike Steve Rogers.
Can I say something bold? Taylor Hendricks’ season-ending injury may have been an unequivocal positive for his career as a whole. He’s bigger, he’s stronger, and he’s imposing his will upon suddenly physically inferior opposition. Try as you might, but like the Terminator, his return is inevitable. Heck, they’ve made like six movies at this point, surely that’s a sign that they couldn’t stop if they wanted to, right?
First of all, with all that time off from the rigor of an NBA schedule, he was given the chance to dedicate every day to rehab and perfecting both his body and his game. Jazz fans who remember the Donovan Mitchell vs. Ben Simmons ROY debate would attest to how much a year with an NBA team — even without playing actual NBA minutes — can be advantageous to a player’s development. Hendricks has improved physically, but it’s clear that his on-floor production has likewise grown noticeably since we last saw him.
In three preseason games, number zero has posted the following per-game splits (with difference from last preseason in parentheses):
Points: 14.7 (+8)
Field Goal %: 47.3 (+9.9)
Three-Point %: 25 (-.6)
Rebounds: 4.7 (+0.7)
Assists: 2.3 (+1.6)
Steals: 1 (+0.5)
While he’s appeared in just three games to this point in the preseason, he’s already outscored last year’s season high in every single game to this point. Like I said, we’re making a stop at overreaction junction. Over here, we don’t care about a small sample size; we care about results. In nine games last year (preseason and regular season), Taylor never broke the 13-point barrier. In three games this preseason, he’s posted 15, 15, and 14.
Much of that can be attributed to increased confidence attacking the basket and living off a healthy diet of two-point shot attempts. He piled on muscle during his year away, and he’s electing himself president of the paint, now that he’s big enough to enact whatever policy he sees fit. Executive order: I’m dunking this on your head.
Is Taylor Hendricks suddenly the most valuable player on the Jazz? Of course not. He’s still a long way from his peak condition and hasn’t collected Ace Bailey’s star upside, nor a Lauri Markkanen/Walker Kessler type of high floor. But here’s the key point: he seems to be an entirely different player than he was a season ago. Maybe it’s confidence, maybe it’s physicality, maybe it’s a pent-up passion for basketball that hasn’t been released since last October.
All I’m saying is the discourse should be very positive regarding Taylor Hendricks — he’s starting to look like a foundational piece. Thanks for humoring my preseason hysteria. You can get on with your day now.
Calvin Barrett is a writer, editor, and prolific Mario Kart racer located in Tokyo, Japan. He has covered the NBA and College Sports since 2024.
