It's probably inevitable that a team with a 3-18 record at the quarter pole of the NBA season has more on the "what's gone wrong" list than its "what's gone right" one. "Probably" because some teams are designed to fail.
See: Philadelphia. And, no, the fact the 76ers beat the Pistons over the weekend isn't forgotten. It happened. The Pistons scored seven points over the last 12 minutes – seven to end the fourth quarter and five in overtime – on 23 possessions, shooting 2 of 22.
The "what went wrong" list for that interminable 12-minute stretch would obliterate the "what went right" list, which might not even exist.
It's also the good news, sort of. So much went wrong over the first 21 games that sheer chance strongly suggests it can't possibly repeat itself over the next quarter of the season.
Stan Van Gundy talked last Friday, the day before Philadelphia's visit, about the difference between the two teams: The Pistons were dealing with their record against the expectation they carried into the season of being a vastly improved team, while the 76ers were winning and losing at a rate that surprised no one.
The Pistons played much better on Sunday – likely their best performance of the season, according to Van Gundy – but lost by two to an Oklahoma City team aware of the urgency to win every game now that all-world stars Kevin Durant and Russell Westbrook have returned from injury with ground to make up.
The Pistons got contributions from most players that matched expectations for them, which in itself has been a rarity to date.
"We're going to need to have a game where, if not everybody, four or five guys get the ball in the basket and have a good offensive night," Van Gundy said of snapping the losing streak, now at 12. "We're usually at one or two. And then we don't get much else and the other guys are not mediocre, they're like ... "
Like their point guards, Brandon Jennings and D.J. Augustin, going 0 for 17 one night and coming back with a 3 for 17 the next.
If you want to talk what's gone wrong, start where most teams start, at point guard. After two passive games to start the season, Jennings was playing very well – career best, Van Gundy said – for the next three weeks as the Pistons, despite a 3-6 record to start the season, were in every game to the last two minutes. Then he hurt his thumb, missed three games and had his shooting affected upon his return. He's still working his way out of that. Augustin has been whipsawed by two factors: His own atypical subpar 3-point shooting and the even more puzzling inability of Pistons big men to shoot with anything near customary efficiency, clogging the paint even further.
That's the biggest mystery. The Pistons get more shots within the restricted area, 3 feet and in, than pretty much anybody but convert at a league-worst rate. If you have any legitimate theories on that one, submit them to 6 Championship Drive, care of Mr. Van Gundy.
That might be less crippling if the Pistons had their full arsenal of 3-point shooting available. The guy Van Gundy thought would be their perimeter bellwether, Jodie Meeks, made it through one preseason game before injury struck. Kentavious Caldwell-Pope missed three weeks of the preseason and got off to a rocky start to the regular season because of it. Cartier Martin would have had all the playing time he could handle then but missed almost three weeks with a foot injury. Gigi Datome might have helped, but he got hit first with a hamstring and then an ankle injury.
As those options withered, the stress put on the dwindling remaining threats mounted. Greg Monroe put the offense on his shoulders early, then had a three-game run where nothing went right.
The net effect is that everyone plays with the lurking suspicion that any mistake will be fatal, a crippling factor. Even in Sunday's game, when they projected an air of something approaching confidence for the first time in maybe the last three weeks, you could see the wheels turning when the third quarter ended and the specter of staring down fourth-quarter ghosts hung over them like a thought bubble.
It took them until their ninth possession to score, by which time Oklahoma City had built its biggest lead, a nine-point cushion that proved just enough to withstand a rally the Pistons marshaled once they were in fight-or-die desperation mode. Van Gundy sees it and calls it like it is: a team playing with the tightness of a clenched fist.
"I don't think there's any question. I think other guys are noticing it in guys. I don't think there's any real dispute. With players, nobody's going to admit that they're playing tight, but yet they see it in everybody else. It's certainly there. It's sort of inexplicable to me. We have a history of it and somehow we're going to have to overcome it. I don't really know the answer to that."
Part of this season – and, very likely, the biggest part – was about changing the culture. Van Gundy knew – before he'd met anyone on the roster – that a fundamental issue with any team that hadn't made the playoffs for the last five seasons was to scrub out the expectation of failure. Players like Monroe and Jonas Jerebko, with five and six years in Detroit, have seen too many fourth-quarter leads evaporate and comebacks fall short to believe another ending is probable.
What's allowed Van Gundy to maintain his sanity – though he might argue the assertion that he's winning that battle – is his belief that his team has yet to let go of the rope, to use his analogy. Even after Sunday's near-miss loss to the Thunder, players spoke of how their unity has not been rattled.
Unless that changes, a breakthrough is coming, sooner or later. Van Gundy's a realist and knows that 3-18 eliminates any glittery goals that might have come within their reach with a better start. But that culture change thing, that's still out there for him. And he'll keep pursuing it – with all the vigor of a coach gunning for an NBA title he hopes to chase with the Pistons one day.