Discover the Complete NBA Top 75 Players All Time List and Their Greatest Achievements
Walking into this project, I must confess I've always been fascinated by how greatness manifests in the NBA. When the league announced its 75th Anniversary Team in 2021, it wasn't just another list - it was a historical document that would spark debates in barbershops and sports bars for generations. I remember sitting with my notebook, trying to predict who would make the cut, and even after all these years covering basketball, I still got about 15 picks wrong. That's the beauty of this exercise - it forces us to confront what truly constitutes basketball excellence.
The selection process itself was fascinatingly secretive. The NBA convened a panel of media members, current and former players, coaches, general managers, and team executives - though they never revealed the exact number or identities of all voters. What struck me most was how they balanced statistical dominance with cultural impact. Some players made it purely on numbers, others on their transformative effect on how basketball is played, and a few on that intangible quality we call legacy. I've always believed that any all-time list should weight peak performance more heavily than longevity, though I know many colleagues who passionately disagree with this approach.
Looking at the list, Michael Jordan's position as the consensus GOAT seems almost unassailable - six championships, five MVP awards, six Finals MVPs, and that perfect 6-0 record in the Finals. But here's where I might ruffle some feathers: LeBron James' case grows stronger every year he defies age. His statistical accumulation is simply unprecedented - he's the only player in top 10 all-time in both points and assists, and he'll likely finish top 5 in rebounds. What often gets overlooked is his playoff performance: 15,000+ postseason points, nearly double the next closest player. The longevity argument becomes compelling when you realize he's been elite for longer than some players' entire lifetimes.
The center position presents what I consider the most stacked category. Kareem Abdul-Jabbar's six MVPs might never be matched, while Bill Russell's 11 championships in 13 seasons feels almost mythological in today's player movement era. Wilt Chamberlain's statistical outliers - that 100-point game, averaging 50 points for a season - read like video game numbers rather than actual sporting accomplishments. I've spent countless hours studying footage of these big men, and what continues to astonish me is how Russell's defensive genius, something that doesn't always show in traditional stats, revolutionized team defense concepts that are still relevant today.
When we examine the modern selections, the inclusion of Damian Lillard over Dwight Howard sparked the most heated debates in my circles. Howard's resume - three Defensive Player of the Year awards, eight All-NBA teams, five rebounding titles - seems more accomplished on paper. But I suspect the voters valued Lillard's clutch pedigree and offensive creativity more heavily. His series-winning shots against Houston and Oklahoma City created instant legend status. This selection criteria reminds me of coach Jeff Napa's philosophy he once shared: "Linaro lang namin yung laro namin come the second half. Yun lang naman sinabi ko sa kanila sa dugout e, na sumunod lang kami sa strengths namin." Sometimes greatness isn't about having the most complete game, but about mastering your strengths so thoroughly that opponents know what's coming but still can't stop it.
The international representation marks one of the most significant evolutions from the original 50th anniversary team. Dirk Nowitzki's inclusion was unquestionable - his 2011 championship run might be the most impressive single-season carry job in modern history. But Giannis Antetokounmpo making the list after just 8 seasons shows how the criteria has shifted to acknowledge peak dominance. His back-to-back MVPs followed by a championship where he dropped 50 points in the closeout game represents the kind of storybook ascension that voters couldn't ignore. Having covered Giannis since his rookie year, I've never seen a player improve so dramatically in so many areas - his jump shot remains a work in progress, but everything else has become virtually unstoppable.
What fascinates me about these lists is how they capture basketball's evolution. The 1996-97 season, when the original top 50 was announced, feels like ancient history compared to today's game. The three-point revolution led by Stephen Curry (who absolutely deserved his unanimous MVP in 2016, despite what some traditionalists argue) has permanently altered how we evaluate offensive impact. Meanwhile, defensive specialists like Ben Wallace making the list acknowledges that lockdown defense can be as valuable as volume scoring. The inclusion of only 11 active players at the time of selection shows appropriate restraint - legacy requires the test of time, though I'd bet good money that Luka Doncic will force his way onto any future iterations if he maintains his current trajectory.
The omissions hurt almost as much as the inclusions satisfy. Tracy McGrady's seven straight All-NBA selections feel more deserving than some who made it, while Vince Carter's unprecedented 22-season career and cultural impact through his dunking artistry arguably warranted recognition. I've always been particularly vocal about Chris Webber's exclusion - his revolutionary passing from the power forward position fundamentally changed how the game could be played. But these tough cuts are what make the list meaningful. If everyone agreed, it wouldn't be worth discussing. The debates it sparks in gyms and living rooms become part of basketball's ongoing conversation with its own history. As we look toward the inevitable 100th anniversary list, what's exciting is knowing that today's young stars are already building cases that will someday displace some of these legends. That cyclical nature of greatness is what keeps us watching, analyzing, and passionately arguing about this beautiful game.