The Suns are built in 'Point God' Chris Paul's image

Across four franchises and 16 seasons, Chris Paul has been the picture of sameness. Even as a litany of leg injuries sapped him of his speed and the ongoing dorkball revolution rewired the sport, Paul has always drawn from a familiar, drab palette. Apologies to Heraclitus (R.I.P. bozo), but the only constant in life is Chris Paul refusing to change, playing slowly, making about half of his mid-range jumpers and being a jerk while doing so. Behold basketball as a bullfight — Paul alone straining against a massive chaotic force until he has bent it to his will. In Paul's hands, the game's fundamental disorder becomes downright orderly. On offense, he quickly scans and solves defensive schemes as if he's filling out a census form. Defensively, he casually rotates to the exact spot where he can preemptively dam holes in the perimeter shell before they can open. There are no operatic flourishes in his game; he doesn't peel off jagged, expressive riffs with the ball; the only beauty is the l