When discussing the all-time greats in NBA history, I often find myself revisiting the same fundamental question: what truly defines a "top 20" player? Is it championship rings, statistical dominance, cultural impact, or some intangible blend of all three? Having followed the league for over two decades, I've noticed how these conversations evolve with each generation. Just this week, I saw news about MERALCO extending Raymond Almazan's contract—a solid role player who contributes meaningfully but will never crack such legendary lists. It reminds me how rare true greatness really is. Almazan's steady presence highlights the chasm between reliable professionals and the pantheon of icons we're discussing here.
My personal criteria lean heavily toward sustained excellence and transformative impact. I'll take a player who redefined his position over a flash-in-the-pan scorer any day. Let's start with the undisputed legends—Michael Jordan's 6 championships and 5 MVP awards create an automatic inclusion, while LeBron James breaking Kareem Abdul-Jabbar's scoring record last year cemented his spot. But here's where it gets messy: does Bill Russell's 11 championships in 13 seasons outweigh Wilt Chamberlain's mythical 100-point game? I'd argue Russell's defensive genius and leadership give him the edge, though Chamberlain's 50.4 points per game in 1962 remains the most unbreakable record in sports history.
The modern era introduces fascinating complications. Stephen Curry didn't just win 4 championships—he fundamentally changed how basketball is played at every level. Meanwhile, Giannis Antetokounmpo's back-to-back MVP seasons and his 50-point closeout game in the 2021 Finals showcase a two-way dominance we haven't seen since prime Hakeem Olajuwon. Personally, I'd slot both in my top 20, though I know traditionalists might balk at Curry's relatively modest 1,560 career rebounds compared to historic big men.
Where things get really contentious is the final few spots. I have Kevin Durant firmly in my list—his 27.3 career playoff scoring average and two Finals MVPs with different teams demonstrate unparalleled scoring versatility. But this means excluding phenomenal players like Isiah Thomas, whose 1989 Finals performance remains one of the most clutch displays I've ever witnessed. The international revolution further complicates matters—Dirk Nowitzki's 2011 championship run was perhaps the most impressive single-carried title I've seen, yet his defensive limitations keep him borderline for me.
Ultimately, these debates are what make basketball fandom so endlessly engaging. Unlike Raymond Almazan's straightforward contract extension with MERALCO, greatness isn't something that can be neatly quantified or agreed upon. My list will always differ from yours, and that's the beauty of it. The NBA's history is rich enough to support multiple valid interpretations of greatness, though I'm confident about 15-17 names that would appear on nearly every knowledgeable fan's roster. The remaining spots? Well, that's where the real conversations begin—and where basketball's living legacy continues to evolve with each new generation of extraordinary talent.