Doc Rivers doesn't have to build a contender -- Rivers himself was supposed to be the missing piece -- he just has to maintain it. That's the privilege allowed by a roster featuring two top-10 players near the peak of their powers. That's the luxury of carrying at least the fourth-most efficient lineup by net rating each of the past two seasons.

So when Rivers, now in his second season as team president, consistently reaffirms "I like our team" because they're capable of playing at a higher level than last season, he's right; the core has a season under its belt, and the starters plus a sprinkling of Jamal Crawford have scorched defenses.

But when Rivers says they've played worse than they have last season, he's also right. The struggles of the bench have been the haunting issue for the Clippers all season. All of their offseason value acquisitions have underachieved (a strategy not dissimilar to the previous offseason, when the essential difference was Darren Collison wildly overachieving), and the objectives set out for Los Angeles reserves seem to be more about maintaining a pleasant work environment than production off the bench.

Managing expectations has been the story for this front office since the demise of the Sterling regime. The practice facility was top-notch and top players were well-compensated, but basketball operations were left to languish; there was no analytics department previously, no dedicated salary-cap manager. Much of the staff is new and still figuring out how they fit together, even more so with the installation of Rivers’ proxies in Kevin Eastman and Dave Wohl to share the day-to-day general manager duties with Gary Sacks (the lone survivor of Shelly Sterling’s sale stipulations after son-in-law Eric Miller left before the season began). That’s how gaffes like unknowingly hard-capping themselves occurs; the head of the office is focused on playbook strategy and scouting, not salary accounting and regression analysis. As a result, it's been a season of half-measures, backtracking and indecision.

Take, for example, the arrivals for two recent roster additions: Austin Rivers and Jordan Hamilton. In the case of Austin Rivers, the number of mistakes that needed to be hastily corrected to acquire him is startling: It required the admission that Jordan Farmar and Chris Douglas-Roberts were incompatible for this team, that using the bi-annual exception on Farmar -- which contributed to the Clippers’ hard cap and thus the trading away of Jared Dudley and a first-round pick -- was a mistake. That's a lot of errors to own up to in quick succession.

Taking a low-risk flyer on a struggling lottery pick who was once the top high school prospect in the nation is a reasonable proposition. Even if said prospect is the son of the coach and carries perception issues of nepotism. The Clippers are a team sorely in need of players that can be developed.

But pair that with the decision to move another asset in Reggie Bullock and a second-round pick to the Phoenix Suns -- primarily because Doc & Co. were acquainted with GM Ryan McDonough from their Boston days -- well, now at the very least it becomes a justifiable decision executed poorly.

The eternal optimist will consider the acquisitions of Austin Rivers and former first-round pick Jordan Hamilton as a glimmer of hope, though. At least these weren’t aged journeymen staving off retirement, overseas duty in China or both.

The front office flirted with three recent draftees who were at least well-regarded prep prospects if not collegiately (Quincy Miller and Darius Miller being the other two), eventually settling on Hamilton, and that method of thinking runs directly counter to the social-media punchline of Rivers preferring veterans that peaked in 2009. And even then, after announcing intentions to sign Darius Miller to a 10-day contract, the Clippers reversed course and brought good locker-room presence Dahntay Jones. Why? After deciding to try Miller out, they discovered he was not at a satisfactory fitness level, a factoid that would seem like a part of basic due diligence.

It’s a common tactic of the “smart” teams: cycle through young, underachieving prospects. Is it the player? Was it the fit? Is it something their particular organization could address? Danny Green, the former second-round pick who fell out of the league -- that the Spurs waived multiple times -- before catching on and becoming an elite 3-and-D guard, is the most famous recent example.

Players like Green are much more the exception than the rule, though. And if the draft is like playing the lottery, then plucking a player who has slipped through the cracks is like hoping someone couldn’t be bothered to cash a winning ticket: profit can be discovered, but not without a lot of effort.

Which leaves Doc speaking out of both sides of his mouth. He likes his team, but he’s rummaging through castoffs in search of a contributor. His starters play with the urgency of a title window closing at any moment, but he casts the bench with players just happy to be around. And the Clippers keep winning. They’re still third in Hollinger’s Power Ranking, still second in Pythagorean Winning Percentage.

Being innovative is hard. And who needs to do things the hard way when you’re as talent-rich as the Clippers?

Andrew Han is an editor at ESPN.com. Follow him @andrewthehan.