Spoiler:
Overall SRS: My combo-SRS from the regular season and playoffs as discussed in the master thread
Standard Deviations: Standard Deviations of Overall SRS from the league mean.
When I post the roster makeup of the team, I try and do it by playoff minutes. The numbers are age, regular season BPM and Playoff BPM (basketball-reference's BPM is being used here).
So if I say: "C: Vlade Divac (22), +2.3 / +4.3" I mean that Vlade Divac was their center, he was 22, he had a BPM of +2.3 in the regular season and a +4.3 in the playoffs. Yes, BPM misses out on a lot of subtle stuff but I thought it a good quick-hits indicator of the skills of the players.
I also list the playoff players (20+ MPG) in order of OLoad (which is usage that integrates assists) and it has everyone's per game average for minutes, points, rebounds, assists and stocks (steals plus blocks), but all of those (including minutes) are adjusted for pace.
I then cover the three highest players in scoring per 100 (with their true shooting relative to league average) and the three highest players in Assists per 100. I realize that these are arbitrary, but I wanted a quick-hits reference for how these teams' offenses ran.
I then talk about Heliocentrism, Wingmen and Depth. Basically I add up all of the team's VORP (again, basketball-reference) and then figure out what percentage of that VORP comes from the #1 player (Heliocentrism), from the #2 and 3 players combined (Wingmen) and Depth (everyone else). I include the ranking among the top 100 for reference. There are only 82 of these rankings, because 18 teams pre-date BPM/VORP, so I only have 82 to work with. I'm not saying that these are particularly meaningful, I just thought they were cool.
Playoff Offensive Rating: Amount by which your playoff offensive rating exceeds the offensive rating you'd expect given the regular season defensive rating of your playoff opponents. If you would be expected to post a 99 given your opponents but you post a 104, that's graded as +5. This way we can compare across eras.
Playoff Defensive Rating is the same as Offensive Rating, just the opposite.
Playoff SRS: Is SRS measured *only* in the playoffs. Overall SRS is a mix of both playoffs and regular season.
Total SRS Increase Through Playoffs: Basically their Overall SRS minus their Regular Season SRS. This is basically how much better a team did in the playoffs than you'd guess, relative to their regular season performance.
Average Playoff Opponent Offense: The average regular season offensive rating of your playoff opponents.
Average Playoff Opponent Defense: The average regular season defensive rating of your playoff opponents.
Rankings of any kind are out of my list. So if I say that the '91 Lakers had the 42nd best regular season offense, I don't mean "42nd best of All-Time", I mean "42nd best of my Top 100 Teams of All_Time". Which will be pretty comparable, but I want to be clear about this.
I also walk through the playoffs at each round, covering their opponent their SRS (at that time), how many games the series was, the margin of victory (and a "+" is always in the favor of the discussed team; losing a series by +2.0 means that you outscored the other team by two points a game on average despite losing) and for reference I put in an SRS equivalency (beat a +5 SRS team by 5 points a game, that's an equivalent +10 SRS series).
In later entries I also add the Offensive and Defensive Ratings for each playoff series. This is just how well the team did, adjusted by the opponent's regular season average (if you play a team with an average Defensive Rating of 102, and you play them with an offensive rating of 106, you get credited with a +4). Pace for teams below 1973 or so is estimated based on regular season numbers, so it could easily be wrong by some.
In writeups, if I ever say a player shot at "-8%" or something, that means "his true shooting was 8% lower than the league average that year". Any time I say "a player shot" and follow it by a percent, I am *always* using true shooting percentage unless otherwise indicated.
I also have a modern comps section for any teams pre-2011. It's basically me weighting each statistical characteristic and feeding each player's stats into the BackPicks database and choosing the best-rated comp from the list. I might list something like this:
PG: 2017 LeBron James (worse rebounding, better passing, way fewer shots)
What I mean is, "This team's point guard was basically 2017 LeBron James, but make his passing better, make his rebounding worse and make him take way fewer shots).
Anyhow. I don't know how clear any of this will be, so please let me know what does and doesn't work from these writeups. And thanks for reading!
Standard Deviations: Standard Deviations of Overall SRS from the league mean.
When I post the roster makeup of the team, I try and do it by playoff minutes. The numbers are age, regular season BPM and Playoff BPM (basketball-reference's BPM is being used here).
So if I say: "C: Vlade Divac (22), +2.3 / +4.3" I mean that Vlade Divac was their center, he was 22, he had a BPM of +2.3 in the regular season and a +4.3 in the playoffs. Yes, BPM misses out on a lot of subtle stuff but I thought it a good quick-hits indicator of the skills of the players.
I also list the playoff players (20+ MPG) in order of OLoad (which is usage that integrates assists) and it has everyone's per game average for minutes, points, rebounds, assists and stocks (steals plus blocks), but all of those (including minutes) are adjusted for pace.
I then cover the three highest players in scoring per 100 (with their true shooting relative to league average) and the three highest players in Assists per 100. I realize that these are arbitrary, but I wanted a quick-hits reference for how these teams' offenses ran.
I then talk about Heliocentrism, Wingmen and Depth. Basically I add up all of the team's VORP (again, basketball-reference) and then figure out what percentage of that VORP comes from the #1 player (Heliocentrism), from the #2 and 3 players combined (Wingmen) and Depth (everyone else). I include the ranking among the top 100 for reference. There are only 82 of these rankings, because 18 teams pre-date BPM/VORP, so I only have 82 to work with. I'm not saying that these are particularly meaningful, I just thought they were cool.
Playoff Offensive Rating: Amount by which your playoff offensive rating exceeds the offensive rating you'd expect given the regular season defensive rating of your playoff opponents. If you would be expected to post a 99 given your opponents but you post a 104, that's graded as +5. This way we can compare across eras.
Playoff Defensive Rating is the same as Offensive Rating, just the opposite.
Playoff SRS: Is SRS measured *only* in the playoffs. Overall SRS is a mix of both playoffs and regular season.
Total SRS Increase Through Playoffs: Basically their Overall SRS minus their Regular Season SRS. This is basically how much better a team did in the playoffs than you'd guess, relative to their regular season performance.
Average Playoff Opponent Offense: The average regular season offensive rating of your playoff opponents.
Average Playoff Opponent Defense: The average regular season defensive rating of your playoff opponents.
Rankings of any kind are out of my list. So if I say that the '91 Lakers had the 42nd best regular season offense, I don't mean "42nd best of All-Time", I mean "42nd best of my Top 100 Teams of All_Time". Which will be pretty comparable, but I want to be clear about this.
I also walk through the playoffs at each round, covering their opponent their SRS (at that time), how many games the series was, the margin of victory (and a "+" is always in the favor of the discussed team; losing a series by +2.0 means that you outscored the other team by two points a game on average despite losing) and for reference I put in an SRS equivalency (beat a +5 SRS team by 5 points a game, that's an equivalent +10 SRS series).
In later entries I also add the Offensive and Defensive Ratings for each playoff series. This is just how well the team did, adjusted by the opponent's regular season average (if you play a team with an average Defensive Rating of 102, and you play them with an offensive rating of 106, you get credited with a +4). Pace for teams below 1973 or so is estimated based on regular season numbers, so it could easily be wrong by some.
In writeups, if I ever say a player shot at "-8%" or something, that means "his true shooting was 8% lower than the league average that year". Any time I say "a player shot" and follow it by a percent, I am *always* using true shooting percentage unless otherwise indicated.
I also have a modern comps section for any teams pre-2011. It's basically me weighting each statistical characteristic and feeding each player's stats into the BackPicks database and choosing the best-rated comp from the list. I might list something like this:
PG: 2017 LeBron James (worse rebounding, better passing, way fewer shots)
What I mean is, "This team's point guard was basically 2017 LeBron James, but make his passing better, make his rebounding worse and make him take way fewer shots).
Anyhow. I don't know how clear any of this will be, so please let me know what does and doesn't work from these writeups. And thanks for reading!
#20. The 1972 Los Angeles Lakers
Spoiler:
Overall SRS: +11.77, Standard Deviations: +1.75, Won NBA Finals (Preseason X)
PG: Jerry West, 0.216 / 0.078
SG: Gail Goodrich, 0.194 / 0.166
SF: Jim McMillian, 0.123 / 0.111
PF: Happy Hairston, 0.161 / 0.148
C: Wilt Chamberlain, 0.219 / 0.205
Regular Season Stats:
Regular Season Record: 69-13, Regular Season SRS: +11.65 (3rd), Earned the 1 Seed
Regular Season Offensive Rating: +5.2 (28th), Regular Season Defensive Rating: -5.3 (22nd)
Jerry West (PG, 33): 33 MPPG, 29% OLoad, 22 / 4 / 8 on +4.2%
Gail Goodrich (SG, 28): 32 MPPG, 27% OLoad, 22 / 3 / 4 on +4.4%
Jim McMillian (SF, 23): 33 MPPG, 19% OLoad, 16 / 6 / 2 on +1.3%
Happy Hairston (PF, 29): 29 MPPG, 15% OLoad, 11 / 11 / 2 on +3.4%
Wilt Chamberlain (C, 35): 36 MPPG, 13% OLoad, 13 / 16 / 3 on +10.6%
Scoring/100: Gail Goodrich (28.7 / +4.4%), Jerry West (27.4 / +4.2%), Jim McMillian (20.2 / +1.3%)
Assists/100: Jerry West (10.3), Gail Goodrich (4.9), Wilt Chamberlain (3.9)
Playoff Stats:
Playoff Offensive Rating: +0.48 (93rd), Playoff Defensive Rating: -9.12 (9th)
Playoff SRS: +11.87 (32nd), Total SRS Increase through Playoffs: +0.12 (96th)
Average Playoff Opponent Offense: +3.15 (22nd), Average Playoff Opponent Defense: -3.61 (15th)
Jerry West (PG, 33): 35 MPPG, 31% OLoad, 20 / 4 / 8 on -5.9%
Gail Goodrich (SG, 28): 33 MPPG, 25% OLoad, 20 / 2 / 3 on +2.2%
Jim McMillian (SF, 23): 36 MPPG, 19% OLoad, 16 / 5 / 1 on +0.0%
Happy Hairston (PF, 29): 33 MPPG, 15% OLoad, 12 / 11 / 2 on +0.6%
Wilt Chamberlain (C, 35): 40 MPPG, 13% OLoad, 13 / 18 / 3 on +5.8%
Scoring/100: Gail Goodrich (25.5 / +2.2%), Jerry West (23.2 / -5.9%), Jim McMillian (18.8 / +0.0%)
Assists/100: Jerry West (9.0), Gail Goodrich (3.6), Wilt Chamberlain (2.9)
Round 1:
Round 2: Chicago Bulls (+7.9), won 4-0, by +10.0 points per game (+17.9 SRS eq)
Round 3: Milwaukee Bucks (+11.2), won 4-2, outscored by -2.3 points per game (+8.9 SRS eq)
Round 4: New York Knicks (+6.2), won 4-1, by +4.4 points per game (+10.6 SRS eq)
Offensive / Defensive Ratings from Opposition Regular Season Average:
Chicago Bulls: +4.6 / -11.9
Milwaukee Bucks: -1.8 / -9.8
New York Knicks: +0.0 / -6.2
Postseason OLoad/Shooting Change adjusted for Opposition*:
Jerry West, +2% / -9.2%
Gail Goodrich, -2% / -1.3%
Jim McMillian, +0% / -0.4%
Happy Hairston, +0% / -1.9%
Wilt Chamberlain, +0% / -3.9%
*Teams in playoffs shot 0.7% better than expected given regular season averages
Let’s talk about Jerry West. West is probably the best retired short player *ever* (I say retired, because there’s a very respectable chance that Curry unseats him before the end). There isn’t huge competition here, but the best point guard ever was 6’9”, and the ATGs are all bigs, wings or shooting guards at 6’6” or taller. West was short (6'3"), but had very long arms (reputedly a 6’7” wingspan). He would grow into one of the best scorers in the league, with a blend of great shooting and excellent drives to the rim. Any way you slice it, he was one of the top 4 players of the shot clock era before, say, 1972. But he doesn’t have any teams on this list until ‘72 and ‘73. Why is that? Let’s talk about it.
You may remember the following chart of WS Helio scores from my writeup on the ‘72 Bucks:
38.1% WS for ‘72 Kareem
29.9% WS for ‘09 LeBron
29.5% WS for ‘93 Jordan
28.9% WS for ‘03 Duncan
I’m going to go through West’s years leading up to ‘72 with the team results, his WS share, and his WS rank in that season:
1961: 36-43, +1.42 OSRS, Conf Finals, 17.1%, 20th
1962: 54-26, +3.55 OSRS, NBA Finals, 28.9%, 5th
1963: 53-27, +5.03 OSRS, NBA Finals, 17.4%, 11th (missed 25 games)
1964: 42-38, -0.74 OSRS, Semis, 34.1%, 6th (Baylor started to have knee problems)
1965: 49-31, +0.04 OSRS, NBA Finals, 39.0%, 3rd
1966: 45-35, +3.48 OSRS, NBA Finals, 37.5%, 2nd
1967: 36-45, -1.57 OSRS, Semis, 28.7%, 6th (missed 15 games)
1968: 52-30, +5.26 OSRS, NBA Finals, 18.6%, 11th (missed 31 games)
And then they acquired Wilt. Look, I don’t know if the above has any significance to you. But remember that Win Shares has two biases: it likes big men better than perhaps it should and it likes players on winning teams perhaps more than it should. Neither of those biases really helped West at all. And yet he finished very high in the league multiple times, with WS Helio scores comparable to those of ‘72 Kareem. I’m not saying that ‘65 and ‘66 West were as good as ‘72 Kareem, only that they each carried comparable loads for their teams (according to Win Shares). Look, the ‘72 Bucks were way, way better than the mid-60s Lakers. But my point is that both teams were absolutely carried by one player (and yes, Oscar and Baylor were both good, but nowhere near at the level of Kareem/West).
Short version, pre-Wilt Jerry West was extraordinarily good, and his teammates . . . really weren’t. People often use the “Russell had better teammates” argument when evaluating players in the 60s. I personally think that argument is missing out on Russell’s greatness. But when comparing 60s Russell and 60s West . . . yeah, Russell had better teammates. By a fair margin. West’s Lakers may have made the Finals most years, but they also played in by far the weaker conference. Jerry West shouldn’t be remembered for making the Finals itself; his conference made that relatively easy. He should be remembered for carrying some extraordinarily lackluster supporting casts (he did have Baylor, but after that it got thin quick) to relative competitiveness and for playing outstanding ball in the playoffs: he consistently upped his scoring, volume *and* efficiency in the postseason. It was nowhere near enough, but it was still a great achievement.
In fact, let’s talk about West in the postseason. Here’s his regular season average through 1971:
22.7 shooting possessions per 36, 27.8 points per game, +6.4% TS (sorry, we don’t have usage, so shooting possessions per 36 is as good as I could use to estimate)
In the playoffs he went to:
23.7 SPp36, 30.9 ppg, +6.7% TS
So moving into the playoffs bumped shooting by 1 shot per 36, points by 3.1 and efficiency by +0.3%.
Let’s compare that to . . . Jordan’s postseason change through age 31.
+0.1 SPp36, +2.2 ppg, -0.9% TS
So Jordan increased his shot-taking some, bumped his ppg and his efficiency dropped slightly. I’m not saying that West was the better postseason player (he wasn’t) but it seems clear that West’s ability to get better in the playoffs was historically quite unusual. I looked for other comps and the two of the best I could find were:
Hakeem Olajuwon (through age 31):
+0.4 SPp36, +3.3 ppg, +1.8% TS
Reggie Miller (through age 31):
+2.0 SPp36, +4.9 ppg, +0.5% TS
Here are West’s numbers again:
+1.0 SPp36, +3.1 ppg, +0.3% TS
I’m not saying that West saw his game get the biggest bump in the postseason ever . . . but it was a pretty remarkable amount. He came by the moniker “Mister Clutch” quite rightly. Anyhow.
In 1969 they added Wilt. Chamberlain was no longer the scoring monstrosity of the early 60s. He was more of a defensive presence, focused on rebounding and taking efficient shots. In 1969 the Lakers made the Finals again, and despite West playing at an incredibly high level, they fell short to Bill Russell’s Celtics for the last time. The year had been marred by tension between Wilt and coach Butch Van Breda Kolff, ultimately leading to Van Breda Kolff’s resignation after the season. In 1970 Wilt tore his patellar tendon in his right knee and missed most of the year. When he came back he was still strong, but he had lost a lot of his quickness. And the Lakers ultimately fell to the Knicks in one of the more famous NBA Finals ever. West had posted a 33.2% WS Helio score carrying the Wilt-less Lakers to a 46-win +1.76 RSRS.
In 1971 a very interesting thing happened: both Wilt and West backed off as scorers. In 1970 the two combined for 41.5 FGA and 58.5 points per game (the team averaged 113.7 ppg total). In 1971 their combined FGA per game dropped to 34.6, and their scoring dropped to 47.6 points per game (114.8 ppg as a team). And they started passing more, going from 11.6 combined assists per game in 1970 to 13.8 assists per game in 1971 (most, but not all of the change was West). Was this the addition of Gail Goodrich? Maybe, but Goodrich didn’t really make much of a splash in OLoad in ‘71. It looks more like Wilt’s knee injury nudged him into a reduced scoring role and West, as he got older, became more of a distributor. Either way, it was a good season but it went off the rails when Jerry West injured his knee and missed the playoffs, and the Lakers were easily eliminated by the ‘71 Bucks.
Going into the offseason after their elimination, Jerry West was frustrated and considering retirement. Part of it was injuries, that every other season he seemed to miss a fair number of games. But part of it was unquestionably the frustration with falling short. He and Elgin together weren’t enough to carry a cast of scrubs to the promised land. Then when Baylor took a step back and West had to take his game even higher, he alone wasn’t enough. And when they added Wilt they *still* couldn’t get over the hump. Whether it was Wilt fighting with the coach (1969), Wilt getting injured (1970) or West getting injured (1971) they just couldn’t get off the ground. Those teams pre-Wilt? Nobody could really hold it against West for not pulling off championships with those rosters. But with Wilt? Now the Lakers were the favorites, and they still couldn’t win. Ultimately new coach Bill Sharman (former SG of the Celtics) persuaded him to give it one more shot.
For whatever reason the team came together perfectly (though circumstances may have provided some assistance, which we’ll get to). Their offensive rating jumped by 4.3 points, their defensive rating improved by 3.5 points. West’s scoring slipped a bit but he was healthy all year. Wilt reduced his role even more, becoming an all-defense/rebounding player who converted occasional shots with extreme efficiency (his comps, after ‘73 Wilt, are eight Bill Russell seasons, for obvious reasons). Gail Goodrich exploded as a scorer, bumping his usage by a ton (taking about 7 more shots per game in the same number of minutes), but his efficiency actually improved by 2 or 3 points. Happy Hairston gave up a lot of his scoring role to focus on rebounding and defense. And 23 year-old Jim McMillian took a step forward, playing solid defense and holding down his part of the offense enough. And suddenly the Lakers had the best offense in the league *and* tied for the best defense. It seemed like all of the franchise’s demons were being exorcised in one magnificent season.
The ‘72 Lakers went 69-13, at that time the best record any team had ever had (and even now it remains 3rd). They posted an RSRS of +11.65, the 3rd best ever. Just on the face of it, the ‘72 Lakers had one of the best regular seasons in NBA history.
Modern Comps:
PG: 2006 Tony Parker
SG: 2006 Tony Parker
SF: 2005 Tayshaun Prince
PF: 2003 David Robinson (full-time, better defense)
C: 1972 Wilt Chamberlain
Let the record show that, like all early-era comps, I hate these. I completely get why West and Goodrich match up with ‘06 Parker. Both players were high-load, solid-efficiency and good (but not great) passing with few rebounds, and both scored near the basket. So I get it. Still. McMillian as Prince works for me. And Hairston as last-year Robinson is curious, showing him to be a strong defensive contributor and great rebounder. And ‘72 Wilt . . . BackPicks loves Wilt’s defense in ‘72. And it basically treats ‘72 Wilt as if you took an average Bill Russell season, had him pass a little less but score far more efficiently. Which doesn’t sound great . . . but it was. BackPicks has Wilt as the best defensive player in the league by a mile that year. Add in low-usage but crazy-efficient scoring and sufficient passing and Wilt may well have been the second best player in the league that year. I think it’s one of the fascinating things about Wilt that he could basically become the lowest usage member of his team, and still be the best player on it.
Wilt feels like . . . I feel like there’s a perfect analogy out there. Like his abilities outran his ability to hold himself back. Most people learn the hard way that they can’t take a million shots, because they won’t actually be able to sink them at a remotely reasonable rate. Young Wilt could *absolutely* take a million shots and make them at a reasonable rate. He was *also* arguably the best rebounder in the league. He was *also* capable of being the best defender in the league. And he was *also* capable of being an extremely good shot creator for his teammates. I think it is a tremendous credit to him that after his volume scoring was pretty much over he was still one of the very best players in the league. But it’s also a searing indictment. Wilt literally got better because he got worse, if that makes any sense. I guess the best analogy I can get is Steve Jobs who opened up like a prodigy, changed everything, but alienated everybody with his tactlessness and overconfidence and drove himself out of a job. When he came back he wasn’t quite the same. He was still brilliant, but what he’d gained the most was a sense of restraint, of knowing how far was too far.
Anyhow. The ‘72 Lakers. One of the best regular seasons ever.
In the semis they faced the +7.9 Chicago Bulls (definitely, by RSRS, one of the toughest Semifinals opponents for a one-seed ever). And the Lakers completely destroyed them. They shot well (+4.3% as a team), even if they got smoked on the boards. But the Lakers’ defense executed at an incredible level, holding the Bulls (the 3rd best offense in the league by the way) to shooting at -3.7% as a team, and holding Bob Love to -10.8% shooting. Goodrich averaged a 29/2/5 on +7.9%, West averaged a 29/6/10 on +5.9% and Chamberlain a 15/21/4 on +12%. The Lakers ran away with the series, sweeping them in four by 10 points per game. It was an incredibly dominant performance against an extremely good team.
In the Conference Finals they faced Kareem’s Bucks (+11.2). They were playing an injured Oscar Robertson, but they still promised to be a serious challenge. And they were. The Lakers prevailed in six, but the Bucks actually outscored them by 2.3 points a game. The Lakers, again, played fantastic defense, holding the top 4 Bucks to below league average shooting. But the Lakers shot even worse. West averaged a 22/5/8 on -8.3%, Goodrich a 19/3/3 on -4.7% and Wilt an 11/19/3 on -3.2%. This was not a dominant series from the Lakers. Granted, the ‘72 Bucks were one of the best teams ever (Top 30 easy) but they were also playing with Oscar at half-strength. And the Lakers’ offense really struggled. They won, absolutely. And they won in 6. But three of their wins were close, 1, 3 and 4 points. I have a hard time looking at that series and seeing anything other than a coin-flip against great opposition. Not a bad series by a long shot, but not a great one. Unless you only care about 1) did they win and 2) how good was their opponent? By those standards it was great.
At least in the Finals the Lakers finally broke free of their overloaded conference, facing what (on paper) was the easiest matchup of their playoffs, the +6.2 New York Knicks. The Knicks had posted a +2.28 RSRS. In the semis they had whipped the -1.3 Bullets by 9 points a game (six games) and in the Conference Finals they smoked the +5.0 Boston Celtics by 8.6 points a game. What to make of a team like that? Some might say that the Knicks were conserving their strength in the regular season because they played in an amazingly bad conference (75% of the teams below average, 25% of the teams at -7 or worse), and then they turned it on in the playoffs. That may well be true, but regular season performance still counts. And when your conference is as bad as theirs was, they were *really* mailing it in. And either way, while the Knicks were winning decisively in the playoffs, only the Celtics series is a strong win; the Bullets were awful. So to take the Knicks really seriously (as in, remotely in the Lakers’ league), we pretty much have to ignore their entire season except for the series against the Celtics, which I think is fairly unreasonable. The Knicks were rated at +6.2 going into the series, but that was a far cry from the +12.0 Lakers. By every objective measure the Lakers outclassed them completely.
But it wasn’t an easy series. The Knicks were able to shoot reasonably well (+0.5% as a team, with Walt Frazier averaging a 23/8/8 on +10.8%), while the Lakers struggled on that front. Goodrich averaged a 26/3/3 on +4.8% and Wilt a 19/23/3 on +9.9%, but West couldn’t get it going with a 20/4/9 on -12.3%. The Lakers’ as a team shot -2.4%. But the Lakers made up for it with possession, outrebounding the Knicks by a lot (9 more rebounds a game, despite shooting worse) and getting around 11 more shots per game. And that margin of possession was the difference, with the Lakers able to outscore the Knicks by 4.4 points a game, winning the series in 5. Jerry West had finally won his championship.
It’s easy to see why this team is so well regarded. I see it as a product of several factors:
Their wins and RSRS are some of the best ever;
Their playoffs opponents were extremely tough (the Bulls were obviously very strong, the ‘72 Bucks were monsters and everybody knows that the early 70s Knicks were great);
They own a sexy record (a 33 game winning streak);
They were the team that finally got Jerry West the ring that he freaking deserved.
And yet they’re ranked 20th on this list. Let’s talk about it. First with their year:
12 | Bucks
11 | Lakers
10 |
9 |
8 |
7 |
6 | Knicks, Bulls
5 | Suns
4 |
3 |
2 | Celtics
1 |
0 | Warriors, Sonics
-0 | Rockets
-1 |
-2 | Hawks
-3 | Bullets, 76ers
-4 | Royals
-5 |
-6 | Pistons
-7 | Cavs
-8 | Blazers
-9 | Braves
-10|
I said it before in the writeup for the ‘72 Bucks, but I’ll say it again. 1972 was the least competitive year ever. Some of this was the ABA pulling talent out of the NBA. But a lot of it was expansion. From 1968 to 1971 the NBA went from 12 teams to 17 teams. Do you realize how nuts that is!? They increased the number of teams by 42% in THREE YEARS at the same time that they were losing talent to a rival league. Imagine if in 2021 an expansion league opened that sucked maybe 30-40% of the talent out of the NBA, and in response the NBA added THIRTEEN teams over the next three years (sorry about the Caps Lock, but it was called for). Imagine that 1/3 of the studs in the league went to the ABA. Do you think the best teams that remain, going up against fewer great players and every third team is an expansion team, would put up absolutely insane Wins / SRS? I sure as heck do. It’s speculative obviously, but I hope you take my point.
Some would rightly compare this year with 2016, when the extremes of the OSRS bell curve were pretty comparable to 1972. After all, the list has four teams from 2016 in the Top 30, and most of them have less sexy resumes than the ‘72 Lakers. What gives?
First, 1972 has two teams at +10 or above, about 12% of the league. 2016 has four teams at +10 or above, about 13% of the league. 1972 has four teams worse than -5, about 24% of the league. 2016 also has four teams worse than -5, about 13% of the league. So 2016 has a fairly comparable density of great teams. But 1972 has almost twice the garbage teams that 2016 had. 2016 paints the picture of a year that *happened* to have a ton of monster teams. 1972 paints the picture of a year that *happened* to have a ton of garbage teams (which, in fairness, is exactly what you’d expect from a league that had watered the talent level down eight ways from Sunday).
Were the ‘72 Bucks and ‘72 Lakers great regular season teams? Absolutely. But you’ve got to keep it in perspective. If you took RSRS without context, you’d conclude that the regular season ‘77 Blazers (+5.39) were a little worse than the regular season ‘20 Raptors (+5.97). Given their dominance of other teams, that’s fair. But once you take into account their era, it becomes clear that the ‘77 Blazers were on a completely different level. But if that’s true we have to concede the alternative, that teams that throw up insane numbers in lopsided years really cannot be taken at face value.
And once you think about that, suddenly a lot of this team gets less sexy. Great record? Absolutely! But super watered-down year. Great RSRS? Absolutely! But super watered-down year. Extremely tough playoff opponents? Absolutely! But super watered-down year (the teams they played were great for 1972, but none of those SRS/win numbers can be taken entirely seriously). And suddenly, that playoffs run doesn’t look quite so dominant. The Bulls series is unimpeachable, but the Bucks and Knicks series neither look great. Are we really sure that the Lakers were a Top 10 team?
Let’s take a step back. Empty your head for a moment.
Which team was “greater”? The team where Jerry West finally won the ring he deserved, or Jordan’s second worst title team? Apropos of nothing the answer is obvious: Jerry West’s title team. Who cares about Jordan’s 2nd worst? There’s nothing historically great about somebody’s second worst team.
Second question.
Which of those teams was more “dominant”?
You would have absolutely no way of knowing. Because the narrative “the year West finally won a title” means *nothing* as far as dominance goes. And Jordan’s 2nd worst title team can absolutely be historically dominant; that it’s Jordan’s 2nd worst has nothing to do with how dominant they were in their year.
Is it possible that much of our respect for the ‘72 Lakers is happiness for Jerry West? Mightn’t it kind of be like the wedding where your friend (who’s a great guy but has dated trainwreck after trainwreck) finally ends up with somebody you know is a keeper? Sure the wedding might have had a cash bar, and the DJ wouldn’t play anything from before this decade, but you remember it so fondly because somebody that you know deserved happiness was finally getting their chance at it.
Maybe I’m just a sentimentalist.
My Arguments Against the ‘72 Lakers as a Top 10 Team:
* 1972 was the most watered down year in the shot clock era of the NBA;
* They barely made it past the hamstrung ‘72 Bucks;
* They struggled to dominate the ‘72 Knicks who, by any objective measure, simply weren’t that great that year;
* In short, their playoffs were good, but not crazy good, and the nature of their watered down era throws a considerable asterisk on everything;
* This has nothing to do with anything, but if you’re loving on the ‘72 Lakers because of West, ‘72 represents *by far* West’s worst playoffs to that point.
My Arguments That the ‘72 Lakers are underrated here:
* They played in a stupidly loaded conference;
* They never had the luxury of playing an average team in the playoffs;
* Getting an extra round of playoffs would have boosted their OSRS by giving their playoff performance a larger sample size.
Honestly. I think they’re better than #20. They have a lot of things working against them that I’m constantly harping on (really tough conferences and a lack of easy opponents to beat on). This was a team that beat average teams by 11 points a game in the regular season; I have no problem believing that they’d rack up bigger wins against average teams in the playoffs. But I don’t see the ‘72 Lakers as a Top 10 team. I don’t like their MoVs in the playoffs much and, perhaps most of all, it’s really, really hard to put a 1972 team that high once you realized how skewed the stats from that year were.
Others are absolutely free to disagree; few teams combine such strengths and weaknesses in their resume. And who knows? I would guess that v2 is going to be like MoV less and quality of opponents more, so the ‘72 Lakers will likely move up in that list
But for me, I like to think of mid-60s Jerry West, at the height of his game. I don’t think a player needs to win rings to prove that they have the heart of a champion. Jerry West proved that a dozen times over.
PG: Jerry West, 0.216 / 0.078
SG: Gail Goodrich, 0.194 / 0.166
SF: Jim McMillian, 0.123 / 0.111
PF: Happy Hairston, 0.161 / 0.148
C: Wilt Chamberlain, 0.219 / 0.205
Regular Season Stats:
Regular Season Record: 69-13, Regular Season SRS: +11.65 (3rd), Earned the 1 Seed
Regular Season Offensive Rating: +5.2 (28th), Regular Season Defensive Rating: -5.3 (22nd)
Jerry West (PG, 33): 33 MPPG, 29% OLoad, 22 / 4 / 8 on +4.2%
Gail Goodrich (SG, 28): 32 MPPG, 27% OLoad, 22 / 3 / 4 on +4.4%
Jim McMillian (SF, 23): 33 MPPG, 19% OLoad, 16 / 6 / 2 on +1.3%
Happy Hairston (PF, 29): 29 MPPG, 15% OLoad, 11 / 11 / 2 on +3.4%
Wilt Chamberlain (C, 35): 36 MPPG, 13% OLoad, 13 / 16 / 3 on +10.6%
Scoring/100: Gail Goodrich (28.7 / +4.4%), Jerry West (27.4 / +4.2%), Jim McMillian (20.2 / +1.3%)
Assists/100: Jerry West (10.3), Gail Goodrich (4.9), Wilt Chamberlain (3.9)
Playoff Stats:
Playoff Offensive Rating: +0.48 (93rd), Playoff Defensive Rating: -9.12 (9th)
Playoff SRS: +11.87 (32nd), Total SRS Increase through Playoffs: +0.12 (96th)
Average Playoff Opponent Offense: +3.15 (22nd), Average Playoff Opponent Defense: -3.61 (15th)
Jerry West (PG, 33): 35 MPPG, 31% OLoad, 20 / 4 / 8 on -5.9%
Gail Goodrich (SG, 28): 33 MPPG, 25% OLoad, 20 / 2 / 3 on +2.2%
Jim McMillian (SF, 23): 36 MPPG, 19% OLoad, 16 / 5 / 1 on +0.0%
Happy Hairston (PF, 29): 33 MPPG, 15% OLoad, 12 / 11 / 2 on +0.6%
Wilt Chamberlain (C, 35): 40 MPPG, 13% OLoad, 13 / 18 / 3 on +5.8%
Scoring/100: Gail Goodrich (25.5 / +2.2%), Jerry West (23.2 / -5.9%), Jim McMillian (18.8 / +0.0%)
Assists/100: Jerry West (9.0), Gail Goodrich (3.6), Wilt Chamberlain (2.9)
Round 1:
Round 2: Chicago Bulls (+7.9), won 4-0, by +10.0 points per game (+17.9 SRS eq)
Round 3: Milwaukee Bucks (+11.2), won 4-2, outscored by -2.3 points per game (+8.9 SRS eq)
Round 4: New York Knicks (+6.2), won 4-1, by +4.4 points per game (+10.6 SRS eq)
Offensive / Defensive Ratings from Opposition Regular Season Average:
Chicago Bulls: +4.6 / -11.9
Milwaukee Bucks: -1.8 / -9.8
New York Knicks: +0.0 / -6.2
Postseason OLoad/Shooting Change adjusted for Opposition*:
Jerry West, +2% / -9.2%
Gail Goodrich, -2% / -1.3%
Jim McMillian, +0% / -0.4%
Happy Hairston, +0% / -1.9%
Wilt Chamberlain, +0% / -3.9%
*Teams in playoffs shot 0.7% better than expected given regular season averages
Let’s talk about Jerry West. West is probably the best retired short player *ever* (I say retired, because there’s a very respectable chance that Curry unseats him before the end). There isn’t huge competition here, but the best point guard ever was 6’9”, and the ATGs are all bigs, wings or shooting guards at 6’6” or taller. West was short (6'3"), but had very long arms (reputedly a 6’7” wingspan). He would grow into one of the best scorers in the league, with a blend of great shooting and excellent drives to the rim. Any way you slice it, he was one of the top 4 players of the shot clock era before, say, 1972. But he doesn’t have any teams on this list until ‘72 and ‘73. Why is that? Let’s talk about it.
You may remember the following chart of WS Helio scores from my writeup on the ‘72 Bucks:
38.1% WS for ‘72 Kareem
29.9% WS for ‘09 LeBron
29.5% WS for ‘93 Jordan
28.9% WS for ‘03 Duncan
I’m going to go through West’s years leading up to ‘72 with the team results, his WS share, and his WS rank in that season:
1961: 36-43, +1.42 OSRS, Conf Finals, 17.1%, 20th
1962: 54-26, +3.55 OSRS, NBA Finals, 28.9%, 5th
1963: 53-27, +5.03 OSRS, NBA Finals, 17.4%, 11th (missed 25 games)
1964: 42-38, -0.74 OSRS, Semis, 34.1%, 6th (Baylor started to have knee problems)
1965: 49-31, +0.04 OSRS, NBA Finals, 39.0%, 3rd
1966: 45-35, +3.48 OSRS, NBA Finals, 37.5%, 2nd
1967: 36-45, -1.57 OSRS, Semis, 28.7%, 6th (missed 15 games)
1968: 52-30, +5.26 OSRS, NBA Finals, 18.6%, 11th (missed 31 games)
And then they acquired Wilt. Look, I don’t know if the above has any significance to you. But remember that Win Shares has two biases: it likes big men better than perhaps it should and it likes players on winning teams perhaps more than it should. Neither of those biases really helped West at all. And yet he finished very high in the league multiple times, with WS Helio scores comparable to those of ‘72 Kareem. I’m not saying that ‘65 and ‘66 West were as good as ‘72 Kareem, only that they each carried comparable loads for their teams (according to Win Shares). Look, the ‘72 Bucks were way, way better than the mid-60s Lakers. But my point is that both teams were absolutely carried by one player (and yes, Oscar and Baylor were both good, but nowhere near at the level of Kareem/West).
Short version, pre-Wilt Jerry West was extraordinarily good, and his teammates . . . really weren’t. People often use the “Russell had better teammates” argument when evaluating players in the 60s. I personally think that argument is missing out on Russell’s greatness. But when comparing 60s Russell and 60s West . . . yeah, Russell had better teammates. By a fair margin. West’s Lakers may have made the Finals most years, but they also played in by far the weaker conference. Jerry West shouldn’t be remembered for making the Finals itself; his conference made that relatively easy. He should be remembered for carrying some extraordinarily lackluster supporting casts (he did have Baylor, but after that it got thin quick) to relative competitiveness and for playing outstanding ball in the playoffs: he consistently upped his scoring, volume *and* efficiency in the postseason. It was nowhere near enough, but it was still a great achievement.
In fact, let’s talk about West in the postseason. Here’s his regular season average through 1971:
22.7 shooting possessions per 36, 27.8 points per game, +6.4% TS (sorry, we don’t have usage, so shooting possessions per 36 is as good as I could use to estimate)
In the playoffs he went to:
23.7 SPp36, 30.9 ppg, +6.7% TS
So moving into the playoffs bumped shooting by 1 shot per 36, points by 3.1 and efficiency by +0.3%.
Let’s compare that to . . . Jordan’s postseason change through age 31.
+0.1 SPp36, +2.2 ppg, -0.9% TS
So Jordan increased his shot-taking some, bumped his ppg and his efficiency dropped slightly. I’m not saying that West was the better postseason player (he wasn’t) but it seems clear that West’s ability to get better in the playoffs was historically quite unusual. I looked for other comps and the two of the best I could find were:
Hakeem Olajuwon (through age 31):
+0.4 SPp36, +3.3 ppg, +1.8% TS
Reggie Miller (through age 31):
+2.0 SPp36, +4.9 ppg, +0.5% TS
Here are West’s numbers again:
+1.0 SPp36, +3.1 ppg, +0.3% TS
I’m not saying that West saw his game get the biggest bump in the postseason ever . . . but it was a pretty remarkable amount. He came by the moniker “Mister Clutch” quite rightly. Anyhow.
In 1969 they added Wilt. Chamberlain was no longer the scoring monstrosity of the early 60s. He was more of a defensive presence, focused on rebounding and taking efficient shots. In 1969 the Lakers made the Finals again, and despite West playing at an incredibly high level, they fell short to Bill Russell’s Celtics for the last time. The year had been marred by tension between Wilt and coach Butch Van Breda Kolff, ultimately leading to Van Breda Kolff’s resignation after the season. In 1970 Wilt tore his patellar tendon in his right knee and missed most of the year. When he came back he was still strong, but he had lost a lot of his quickness. And the Lakers ultimately fell to the Knicks in one of the more famous NBA Finals ever. West had posted a 33.2% WS Helio score carrying the Wilt-less Lakers to a 46-win +1.76 RSRS.
In 1971 a very interesting thing happened: both Wilt and West backed off as scorers. In 1970 the two combined for 41.5 FGA and 58.5 points per game (the team averaged 113.7 ppg total). In 1971 their combined FGA per game dropped to 34.6, and their scoring dropped to 47.6 points per game (114.8 ppg as a team). And they started passing more, going from 11.6 combined assists per game in 1970 to 13.8 assists per game in 1971 (most, but not all of the change was West). Was this the addition of Gail Goodrich? Maybe, but Goodrich didn’t really make much of a splash in OLoad in ‘71. It looks more like Wilt’s knee injury nudged him into a reduced scoring role and West, as he got older, became more of a distributor. Either way, it was a good season but it went off the rails when Jerry West injured his knee and missed the playoffs, and the Lakers were easily eliminated by the ‘71 Bucks.
Going into the offseason after their elimination, Jerry West was frustrated and considering retirement. Part of it was injuries, that every other season he seemed to miss a fair number of games. But part of it was unquestionably the frustration with falling short. He and Elgin together weren’t enough to carry a cast of scrubs to the promised land. Then when Baylor took a step back and West had to take his game even higher, he alone wasn’t enough. And when they added Wilt they *still* couldn’t get over the hump. Whether it was Wilt fighting with the coach (1969), Wilt getting injured (1970) or West getting injured (1971) they just couldn’t get off the ground. Those teams pre-Wilt? Nobody could really hold it against West for not pulling off championships with those rosters. But with Wilt? Now the Lakers were the favorites, and they still couldn’t win. Ultimately new coach Bill Sharman (former SG of the Celtics) persuaded him to give it one more shot.
For whatever reason the team came together perfectly (though circumstances may have provided some assistance, which we’ll get to). Their offensive rating jumped by 4.3 points, their defensive rating improved by 3.5 points. West’s scoring slipped a bit but he was healthy all year. Wilt reduced his role even more, becoming an all-defense/rebounding player who converted occasional shots with extreme efficiency (his comps, after ‘73 Wilt, are eight Bill Russell seasons, for obvious reasons). Gail Goodrich exploded as a scorer, bumping his usage by a ton (taking about 7 more shots per game in the same number of minutes), but his efficiency actually improved by 2 or 3 points. Happy Hairston gave up a lot of his scoring role to focus on rebounding and defense. And 23 year-old Jim McMillian took a step forward, playing solid defense and holding down his part of the offense enough. And suddenly the Lakers had the best offense in the league *and* tied for the best defense. It seemed like all of the franchise’s demons were being exorcised in one magnificent season.
The ‘72 Lakers went 69-13, at that time the best record any team had ever had (and even now it remains 3rd). They posted an RSRS of +11.65, the 3rd best ever. Just on the face of it, the ‘72 Lakers had one of the best regular seasons in NBA history.
Modern Comps:
PG: 2006 Tony Parker
SG: 2006 Tony Parker
SF: 2005 Tayshaun Prince
PF: 2003 David Robinson (full-time, better defense)
C: 1972 Wilt Chamberlain
Let the record show that, like all early-era comps, I hate these. I completely get why West and Goodrich match up with ‘06 Parker. Both players were high-load, solid-efficiency and good (but not great) passing with few rebounds, and both scored near the basket. So I get it. Still. McMillian as Prince works for me. And Hairston as last-year Robinson is curious, showing him to be a strong defensive contributor and great rebounder. And ‘72 Wilt . . . BackPicks loves Wilt’s defense in ‘72. And it basically treats ‘72 Wilt as if you took an average Bill Russell season, had him pass a little less but score far more efficiently. Which doesn’t sound great . . . but it was. BackPicks has Wilt as the best defensive player in the league by a mile that year. Add in low-usage but crazy-efficient scoring and sufficient passing and Wilt may well have been the second best player in the league that year. I think it’s one of the fascinating things about Wilt that he could basically become the lowest usage member of his team, and still be the best player on it.
Wilt feels like . . . I feel like there’s a perfect analogy out there. Like his abilities outran his ability to hold himself back. Most people learn the hard way that they can’t take a million shots, because they won’t actually be able to sink them at a remotely reasonable rate. Young Wilt could *absolutely* take a million shots and make them at a reasonable rate. He was *also* arguably the best rebounder in the league. He was *also* capable of being the best defender in the league. And he was *also* capable of being an extremely good shot creator for his teammates. I think it is a tremendous credit to him that after his volume scoring was pretty much over he was still one of the very best players in the league. But it’s also a searing indictment. Wilt literally got better because he got worse, if that makes any sense. I guess the best analogy I can get is Steve Jobs who opened up like a prodigy, changed everything, but alienated everybody with his tactlessness and overconfidence and drove himself out of a job. When he came back he wasn’t quite the same. He was still brilliant, but what he’d gained the most was a sense of restraint, of knowing how far was too far.
Anyhow. The ‘72 Lakers. One of the best regular seasons ever.
In the semis they faced the +7.9 Chicago Bulls (definitely, by RSRS, one of the toughest Semifinals opponents for a one-seed ever). And the Lakers completely destroyed them. They shot well (+4.3% as a team), even if they got smoked on the boards. But the Lakers’ defense executed at an incredible level, holding the Bulls (the 3rd best offense in the league by the way) to shooting at -3.7% as a team, and holding Bob Love to -10.8% shooting. Goodrich averaged a 29/2/5 on +7.9%, West averaged a 29/6/10 on +5.9% and Chamberlain a 15/21/4 on +12%. The Lakers ran away with the series, sweeping them in four by 10 points per game. It was an incredibly dominant performance against an extremely good team.
In the Conference Finals they faced Kareem’s Bucks (+11.2). They were playing an injured Oscar Robertson, but they still promised to be a serious challenge. And they were. The Lakers prevailed in six, but the Bucks actually outscored them by 2.3 points a game. The Lakers, again, played fantastic defense, holding the top 4 Bucks to below league average shooting. But the Lakers shot even worse. West averaged a 22/5/8 on -8.3%, Goodrich a 19/3/3 on -4.7% and Wilt an 11/19/3 on -3.2%. This was not a dominant series from the Lakers. Granted, the ‘72 Bucks were one of the best teams ever (Top 30 easy) but they were also playing with Oscar at half-strength. And the Lakers’ offense really struggled. They won, absolutely. And they won in 6. But three of their wins were close, 1, 3 and 4 points. I have a hard time looking at that series and seeing anything other than a coin-flip against great opposition. Not a bad series by a long shot, but not a great one. Unless you only care about 1) did they win and 2) how good was their opponent? By those standards it was great.
At least in the Finals the Lakers finally broke free of their overloaded conference, facing what (on paper) was the easiest matchup of their playoffs, the +6.2 New York Knicks. The Knicks had posted a +2.28 RSRS. In the semis they had whipped the -1.3 Bullets by 9 points a game (six games) and in the Conference Finals they smoked the +5.0 Boston Celtics by 8.6 points a game. What to make of a team like that? Some might say that the Knicks were conserving their strength in the regular season because they played in an amazingly bad conference (75% of the teams below average, 25% of the teams at -7 or worse), and then they turned it on in the playoffs. That may well be true, but regular season performance still counts. And when your conference is as bad as theirs was, they were *really* mailing it in. And either way, while the Knicks were winning decisively in the playoffs, only the Celtics series is a strong win; the Bullets were awful. So to take the Knicks really seriously (as in, remotely in the Lakers’ league), we pretty much have to ignore their entire season except for the series against the Celtics, which I think is fairly unreasonable. The Knicks were rated at +6.2 going into the series, but that was a far cry from the +12.0 Lakers. By every objective measure the Lakers outclassed them completely.
But it wasn’t an easy series. The Knicks were able to shoot reasonably well (+0.5% as a team, with Walt Frazier averaging a 23/8/8 on +10.8%), while the Lakers struggled on that front. Goodrich averaged a 26/3/3 on +4.8% and Wilt a 19/23/3 on +9.9%, but West couldn’t get it going with a 20/4/9 on -12.3%. The Lakers’ as a team shot -2.4%. But the Lakers made up for it with possession, outrebounding the Knicks by a lot (9 more rebounds a game, despite shooting worse) and getting around 11 more shots per game. And that margin of possession was the difference, with the Lakers able to outscore the Knicks by 4.4 points a game, winning the series in 5. Jerry West had finally won his championship.
It’s easy to see why this team is so well regarded. I see it as a product of several factors:
Their wins and RSRS are some of the best ever;
Their playoffs opponents were extremely tough (the Bulls were obviously very strong, the ‘72 Bucks were monsters and everybody knows that the early 70s Knicks were great);
They own a sexy record (a 33 game winning streak);
They were the team that finally got Jerry West the ring that he freaking deserved.
And yet they’re ranked 20th on this list. Let’s talk about it. First with their year:
12 | Bucks
11 | Lakers
10 |
9 |
8 |
7 |
6 | Knicks, Bulls
5 | Suns
4 |
3 |
2 | Celtics
1 |
0 | Warriors, Sonics
-0 | Rockets
-1 |
-2 | Hawks
-3 | Bullets, 76ers
-4 | Royals
-5 |
-6 | Pistons
-7 | Cavs
-8 | Blazers
-9 | Braves
-10|
I said it before in the writeup for the ‘72 Bucks, but I’ll say it again. 1972 was the least competitive year ever. Some of this was the ABA pulling talent out of the NBA. But a lot of it was expansion. From 1968 to 1971 the NBA went from 12 teams to 17 teams. Do you realize how nuts that is!? They increased the number of teams by 42% in THREE YEARS at the same time that they were losing talent to a rival league. Imagine if in 2021 an expansion league opened that sucked maybe 30-40% of the talent out of the NBA, and in response the NBA added THIRTEEN teams over the next three years (sorry about the Caps Lock, but it was called for). Imagine that 1/3 of the studs in the league went to the ABA. Do you think the best teams that remain, going up against fewer great players and every third team is an expansion team, would put up absolutely insane Wins / SRS? I sure as heck do. It’s speculative obviously, but I hope you take my point.
Some would rightly compare this year with 2016, when the extremes of the OSRS bell curve were pretty comparable to 1972. After all, the list has four teams from 2016 in the Top 30, and most of them have less sexy resumes than the ‘72 Lakers. What gives?
First, 1972 has two teams at +10 or above, about 12% of the league. 2016 has four teams at +10 or above, about 13% of the league. 1972 has four teams worse than -5, about 24% of the league. 2016 also has four teams worse than -5, about 13% of the league. So 2016 has a fairly comparable density of great teams. But 1972 has almost twice the garbage teams that 2016 had. 2016 paints the picture of a year that *happened* to have a ton of monster teams. 1972 paints the picture of a year that *happened* to have a ton of garbage teams (which, in fairness, is exactly what you’d expect from a league that had watered the talent level down eight ways from Sunday).
Were the ‘72 Bucks and ‘72 Lakers great regular season teams? Absolutely. But you’ve got to keep it in perspective. If you took RSRS without context, you’d conclude that the regular season ‘77 Blazers (+5.39) were a little worse than the regular season ‘20 Raptors (+5.97). Given their dominance of other teams, that’s fair. But once you take into account their era, it becomes clear that the ‘77 Blazers were on a completely different level. But if that’s true we have to concede the alternative, that teams that throw up insane numbers in lopsided years really cannot be taken at face value.
And once you think about that, suddenly a lot of this team gets less sexy. Great record? Absolutely! But super watered-down year. Great RSRS? Absolutely! But super watered-down year. Extremely tough playoff opponents? Absolutely! But super watered-down year (the teams they played were great for 1972, but none of those SRS/win numbers can be taken entirely seriously). And suddenly, that playoffs run doesn’t look quite so dominant. The Bulls series is unimpeachable, but the Bucks and Knicks series neither look great. Are we really sure that the Lakers were a Top 10 team?
Let’s take a step back. Empty your head for a moment.
Which team was “greater”? The team where Jerry West finally won the ring he deserved, or Jordan’s second worst title team? Apropos of nothing the answer is obvious: Jerry West’s title team. Who cares about Jordan’s 2nd worst? There’s nothing historically great about somebody’s second worst team.
Second question.
Which of those teams was more “dominant”?
You would have absolutely no way of knowing. Because the narrative “the year West finally won a title” means *nothing* as far as dominance goes. And Jordan’s 2nd worst title team can absolutely be historically dominant; that it’s Jordan’s 2nd worst has nothing to do with how dominant they were in their year.
Is it possible that much of our respect for the ‘72 Lakers is happiness for Jerry West? Mightn’t it kind of be like the wedding where your friend (who’s a great guy but has dated trainwreck after trainwreck) finally ends up with somebody you know is a keeper? Sure the wedding might have had a cash bar, and the DJ wouldn’t play anything from before this decade, but you remember it so fondly because somebody that you know deserved happiness was finally getting their chance at it.
Maybe I’m just a sentimentalist.
My Arguments Against the ‘72 Lakers as a Top 10 Team:
* 1972 was the most watered down year in the shot clock era of the NBA;
* They barely made it past the hamstrung ‘72 Bucks;
* They struggled to dominate the ‘72 Knicks who, by any objective measure, simply weren’t that great that year;
* In short, their playoffs were good, but not crazy good, and the nature of their watered down era throws a considerable asterisk on everything;
* This has nothing to do with anything, but if you’re loving on the ‘72 Lakers because of West, ‘72 represents *by far* West’s worst playoffs to that point.
My Arguments That the ‘72 Lakers are underrated here:
* They played in a stupidly loaded conference;
* They never had the luxury of playing an average team in the playoffs;
* Getting an extra round of playoffs would have boosted their OSRS by giving their playoff performance a larger sample size.
Honestly. I think they’re better than #20. They have a lot of things working against them that I’m constantly harping on (really tough conferences and a lack of easy opponents to beat on). This was a team that beat average teams by 11 points a game in the regular season; I have no problem believing that they’d rack up bigger wins against average teams in the playoffs. But I don’t see the ‘72 Lakers as a Top 10 team. I don’t like their MoVs in the playoffs much and, perhaps most of all, it’s really, really hard to put a 1972 team that high once you realized how skewed the stats from that year were.
Others are absolutely free to disagree; few teams combine such strengths and weaknesses in their resume. And who knows? I would guess that v2 is going to be like MoV less and quality of opponents more, so the ‘72 Lakers will likely move up in that list
But for me, I like to think of mid-60s Jerry West, at the height of his game. I don’t think a player needs to win rings to prove that they have the heart of a champion. Jerry West proved that a dozen times over.
#19. The 1998 Chicago Bulls
Spoiler:
Overall SRS: +10.93, Standard Deviations: +1.98, Lost in the NBA Finals (Preseason 1st)
PG: Ron Harper, +1.9 / +2.3
SG: Michael Jordan, +6.9 / +9.0
SF: Scottie Pippen, +5.0 / +5.6
PF: Toni Kukoc, +3.3 / +5.1
C: Luc Longley, -0.8 / -1.2
6th: Dennis Rodman, -0.2 / -1.7
Regular Season Metrics:
Regular Season Record: 62-20, Regular Season SRS: +7.24 (37th), Earned the 1 Seed
Regular Season Offensive Rating: +2.7 (66th), Regular Season Defensive Rating: -5.2 (25th)
Shooting Advantage: +1.6%, Possession Advantage: +4.2 shooting possessions per game
Michael Jordan (SG, 34): 44 MPPG, 32% OLoad, 32 / 7 / 4 / 4 on +0.9%
Scottie Pippen (SF, 32): 42 MPPG, 25% OLoad, 22 / 6 / 7 / 3 on +0.9%
Toni Kukoc (PF, 29): 34 MPPG, 23% OLoad, 15 / 5 / 5 / 2 on +0.1%
Luc Longley (C, 29): 33 MPPG, 21% OLoad, 13 / 7 / 3 / 2 on -3.2%
Ron Harper (PG, 34): 31 MPPG, 17% OLoad, 11 / 4 / 3 / 2 on -2.1%
Dennis Rodman (PF, 36): 40 MPPG, 10% OLoad, 5 / 17 / 3 / 1 on -6.5%
Scoring/100: Michael Jordan (40.0 / +0.9%), Scottie Pippen (27.5 / +0.9%), Toni Kukoc (23.7 / +0.1%)
Assists/100: Scottie Pippen (8.3), Toni Kukoc (7.6), Ron Harper (5.7)
Heliocentrism: 37.2% (39th of 84 teams) - Jordan
Wingmen: 30.9% (72nd) - Kukoc & Pippen
Depth: 31.9% (29th)
Playoff Metrics:
Playoff Offensive Rating: +5.42 (52nd), Playoff Defensive Rating: -8.00 (17th)
Playoff SRS: +12.99 (27th), Total SRS Increase through Playoffs: +3.69 (27th)
Shooting Advantage: -0.1, Possession Advantage: +6.8 shooting possessions per game
Average Playoff Opponent Offense: +4.40 (4th), Average Playoff Opponent Defense: -0.72 (79th)
Michael Jordan (SG, 34): 47 MPPG, 35% OLoad, 36 / 6 / 4 / 2 on +2.1%
Scottie Pippen (SF, 32): 45 MPPG, 24% OLoad, 19 / 8 / 6 / 4 on -2.4%
Toni Kukoc (PF, 29): 34 MPPG, 20% OLoad, 15 / 4 / 3 / 2 on +3.7%
Luc Longley (C, 29): 29 MPPG, 18% OLoad, 9 / 6 / 2 / 2 on -0.6%
Ron Harper (PG, 34): 30 MPPG, 14% OLoad, 8 / 4 / 3 / 2 on +3.7%
Dennis Rodman (PF, 36): 39 MPPG, 11% OLoad, 6 / 13 / 2 / 1 on -10.5%
Scoring/100: Michael Jordan (44.5 / +2.1%), Toni Kukoc (24.6 / +3.7%), Scottie Pippen (24.1 / -2.4%)
Assists/100: Scottie Pippen (7.5), Toni Kukoc (5.4), Ron Harper (4.9)
Playoff Heliocentrism: 38.7% (33rd of 84 teams) - Jordan
Playoff Wingmen: 43.5% (26th) - Pippen & Kukoc
Playoff Depth: 17.8% (62nd)
Round 1: New Jersey Nets (+1.9), won 3-0, by +7.7 points per game (+9.6 SRS eq)
Round 2: Charlotte Hornets (+2.4), won 4-1, by +9.6 points per game (+12.0 SRS eq)
Round 3: Indiana Pacers (+8.3), won 4-3, by +4.2 points per game (+12.5 SRS eq)
Round 4: Utah Jazz (+8.3), won 4-2, by +7.8 points per game (+16.1 SRS eq)
Offensive / Defensive Ratings from Opposition Regular Season Average
New Jersey Nets: +10.8 / +0.3
Charlotte Hornets: +3.6 / -10.3
Indiana Pacers: +12.6 / +0.9
Utah Jazz: +0.1 / -16.6
Playoff Shooting Advantage / Possession Advantage per 100 (unadjusted):
New Jersey Nets: +2.3% / +3.6 SPPX
Charlotte Hornets: +2.5% / +6.5 SPPX
Indiana Pacers: -3.6% / +11.4 SPPX
Utah Jazz: +0.9% / +7.7 SPPX
Postseason Usage/Efficiency Change adjusted for Opposition:
Ron Harper, -3.4% / +0.7%
Michael Jordan, +2.9% / +1.5%
Scottie Pippen, -1.4% / -3.0%
Toni Kukoc, -1.5% / +3.9%
Luc Longley, -3.1% / +2.9%
Dennis Rodman, +1.6% / -3.7%
I think it’s notable that the two last Bulls’ championship teams show up as the worst. And it’s totally intuitive. On one level, you have the fact that motivation will rarely be as high going into the threepeat season as it is in the first. And on the other level, rosters simply get older. Going into 1998, the Bulls’ roster was *old*. Jordan and Ron Harper were 34. Pippen was 32, and struggling to stay healthy. Toni Kukoc and Luc Longley were 29. Dennis Rodman was 36. None of these players became overnight bad. But they all got a little bit worse. And when your entire starting roster gets a little bit worse, it’s pretty normal for the team overall to take a big step back. And they did. Within reason.
In 1997 the Bulls had won 69 games and posted a +10.70 RSRS. In 1998 they only won 62 games and posted a +7.24 RSRS. Those marks were still the best in the league, but not by a lot. Some of the drop was exaggerated by Pippen missing half the year with . . . well, that’s kind of a story.
Much of this has been covered by the Last Dance documentary. You would be forgiven for thinking that the Bulls, having won five titles in seven years, would be an organization unified by winning. It was anything but. The sources of tension were too many to name, though I will do my best.
Jerry Krause. He had been the Bulls’ GM since 1985, just after they had drafted Jordan. His fingerprints were all over the ‘91-93 Bulls championships. He drafted Scottie Pippen and Horace Grant, ensuring that Jordan would have the wingmen necessary to leverage his talent to the fullest. He fired coach Doug Collins, despite the improvement that had occurred under him, and Krause promoted assistant coach Phil Jackson to head coach. And he traded Charles Oakley for Bill Cartright, rounding out the roster. When the Bulls won from ‘91 to ‘93, they were doing it with the coach and roster that Krause had built. And Michael Jordan.
Jordan was crazy competitive. Emphasis on the crazy. Also the competitive. He’d compete over anything. When standing at the airport, waiting for luggage to emerge, he was fond of betting the other players that his would come out first. And he was notorious for bribing the grounds crew to make sure that he would win that bet. Jordan had to win. Every damned part of his life was somewhere he had to prove himself. And this led to a complex relationship with the Bulls’ roster and teammates. While from a distance he was extremely competitive, to his peers his behavior vacillated between the camaraderie of a brother and the domineering of a bully. Jordan wasn’t one to be patient with the weakness of others; in Jordan’s world weakness was a thing to be purged. Ruthlessly. Much of life for Jordan was a zero sum game, and he had to win which meant that others had to lose. His teammates in the mid-80s had done nothing to mollify this, teaching him an understandable contempt for the cast he was being asked to carry. Jordan did not give his approval lightly. Late 90s teammate Steve Kerr once took exception to some of Jordan’s trash talk in practice. Jordan confronted him and Kerr threw a punch. It took teammates to pull Jordan off of Kerr. But the fact that Kerr had been willing to throw down with Jordan, who was 3 inches taller and 25 pounds heavier, earned Jordan’s respect. With Jordan respect could only be earned, never given, and he prized alpha-male confidence, competitiveness and swagger.
Jerry Krause was 5’6”. He was comfortably saggy around the middle. He dressed shabbily, to Jordan’s eyes, and was often seen with food stains on his clothes. But perhaps the hardest part was this; Krause seemed to worship Jordan (and to a lesser extent, the other athletes). This may be projection, but footage of Krause with the team struck me as nothing so much as the chubby nerd who was so excited to hang out with the cool kids, desperately hoping for acceptance. Many times he was mocked by Jordan and others, and Krause would often laugh awkwardly along with it. But to Jordan such behavior could never earn respect; the pack leader may accept the submission of the zeta showing his belly, but never respect it. The belonging that Krause craved was not to be.
Compounding matters, Krause was effectively Jordan’s boss. And Krause acted as bosses do. He did what he thought was best, even if that included trading Jordan’s friend Charles Oakley, or drafting someone other than the player that Jordan wanted. Though this is speculative, it must have rankled Jordan, to be the greatest player in the world, the Alpha among Alphas, but be subject to the whims of a zeta beancounter. And, for better or for worse, Jordan couldn’t do it alone. Though he surely tried. Through the mid-80s he had put up some of the best individual numbers a player has ever put up, willing weak rosters to wins with a greatness that few born have ever managed. And it was never enough. Jordan, for all his individual brilliance, could never compete with a strong *team*, be it the Celtics of Larry Bird or the Pistons of Isiah Thomas. He may have been the biggest and strongest, packs of smaller and weaker than he would always pull him down. I know he would deny it, but his helplessness to win without help, his dependence on Krause, could never have sat easily.
And Krause, insecure in a different but no less powerful way than Jordan, wanted his share of the credit. Krause was not content to sit in the shadows, watching others receive credit for his successes. His career as a scout and executive was a long list of him making the right call, but being ignored for someone less competent. Now that he was the GM of his own team, a smith with his own forge. And he had been blessed with the greatest raw material a GM can be given, a once in a generation young superstar. He stoked the fires until they were white hot, burning off the impurities of the roster that could not help him. And with time, skill, and Jordan he wrought the blade that would cut through the rest of the league as through paper. No slave to big names and alpha-scorers, Krause surrounded the greatest scorer ever with role-players that complimented Jordan’s skills. With spot-up shooters like Paxson, Kerr and Armstrong, strong passers like Pippen and Kukoc, great rebounders like Pippen, Rodman and Grant and great defenders like Cartright, Harper and Pippen, he built a dynasty around Jordan. Twice.
And he wanted the credit for it.
The credit, for better or for worse, was not to come. What credit that did not go to Jordan and the rest of the players went to coach Phil Jackson. Jackson was a skilled coach and would prove himself adept at getting the most out of difficult personalities (a trait that was to be tested by Jordan, then Rodman, then Kobe). Krause resented the fact that Jackson got the credit for being the right man for the job, while Krause got no credit for hiring the right man for the job. Not only had Krause hired Jackson, but had accommodated him with the roster. When Jerry Reinsdorf, the owner, tried to extend Jackson’s contract past 1996 the coach declined, saying that after a certain number of years the words of a coach lost their effectiveness. Knowing that Jordan would only play for Jackson (or so he had said privately), the owner pressured Jackson to name his terms. Jackson said that he would only stay if all players besides Jordan were replaced (so he could start fresh). While Pippen was retained, Krause dutifully rebuilt the roster as requested, making it even better than before. Yet again, Jackson got the credit.
Tensions ratched up between the two, to the point where Krause announced that Jackson would not be extended past the 1998 season, no matter how successful the postseason. Jordan, mentally drained from his efforts and not wanting to play for anyone else, intended to retire at the end of the season. That alone created tension around the team.
Scottie Pippen was another matter. After the first championship in 1991 Pippen had signed an extension, seven years at near three million a year. It was a good deal on its face; in 1992 he was paid almost as much as Jordan and it bought security for his family. He had grown up poor in a small Arkansas town with 11 siblings, and his father and one of his brothers were both paralyzed. Pippen saw his first responsibility as providing for his family, and he was the guaranteed money on this contract as doing so. But his relatively static deal didn’t keep up with the new CBA. In ‘95 he earned less money than four other Bulls. By ‘97 he was 6th on the Bulls, making a quarter what Rodman made, and about 7.5% of what Jordan made. He wanted a new contract.
The Bulls refused. There is right on both sides. On one hand, Pippen had freely and knowingly accepted his contract. The risk of a long-term deal for the Bulls was that Pippen’s quality of play would decline. The risk of a long-term deal for Pippen was that circumstances would make him worth considerably more money. As it happened Pippen’s risk was actualized while the Bulls’ was not. But Pippen surely knew of this risk, and signed the contract anyways. At the same time, Pippen was criminally underpaid going into the ‘98 season, and not in the ridiculous “I need enough to feed my family” way. Had the Bulls given in, perhaps they could have extended him on a more expensive but team-friendly deal. But neither side budged.
So Pippen passive-aggressively waited until the start of the year to have surgery on an injury, deliberately missing half the season. It was unquestionably selfish, understandable if not excusable. This is all a long way of saying that the ‘98 Bulls, despite coming off a repeat championship, were an old roster steeping in tension and frustration, on the part of all involved.
But enough about off-court issues, let’s talk about their performance on the court. Most writeups about the ‘98 Bulls talk about Jordan’s increased load because of Pippen’s absence. But I can’t actually find any evidence of it. I mean, it was slightly higher than ‘97, but nothing remarkable. I have his OLoad around 32%, which is high but not incredible, compared with his 34% OLoad in ‘93. However, that number is a little misleading. First, OLoad contains turnovers and Jordan, by the end of his career, turned the ball over quite rarely. And the second is that Jordan, for whatever combination of reasons, passed the ball less than any prior point in his career. Whether you used Assist%, Assists per game, Assists per 36 or Assists per 100, 1998 was Jordan’s least facilitating role to that point (obviously assists only say so much, but the change is extremely suggestive). So when it comes to taking shots, Jordan was taking as much as at any prior point. But due to reduced passing and turnovers, it actually seems like his role reduced in the ‘98 regular season, if perhaps not by as much as he would have wished.
That said, by Jordan standards it was a down year. He shot at a lower efficiency than in any prior championship year by a good margin. And this is part of why the ‘98 Bulls have such a curious statistical footprint. A team with Michael Jordan intuitively wins by shooting. But the ‘98 Bulls were actually quite bad at shooting, 19th in a league of 29. Nobody on the team was shooting well. Jordan and Pippen barely shot over league average, Kukoc didn’t shoot any better while Longley, Harper and Rodman all shot below league average (and in Rodman’s case, by a lot). Much to my surprise, the ‘98 Bulls stat profile looks a lot more like the, say, ‘04 Pistons than I might have guessed. The ‘04 Pistons couldn’t shoot, but they played great shot defense and took a lot more shots than the other team.
The more one thinks about it, though, this shouldn’t be a huge surprise. That Bulls roster was loaded with defense. Jordan and Pippen, even in their advanced years, were very good defenders. Ron Harper was a defensive specialist, Longley was 7’2” and Rodman, though not as good as in his prime, was still strong on that end. And rebounding. You may be thinking of Rodman, perhaps the best rebounder ever. The Bulls were a really good rebounding team. Remember, both Jordan and Pippen were unusually good rebounders and Harper was an outstanding rebounder for a point guard. Also the Bulls turned the ball over extremely little. Jordan had the ball the most and he turned it over very little, but Harper and Pippen were equally tight with the ball. You may think that they didn’t turn it over much because they didn’t pass that much, but that isn’t true. Pippen was a strong passer if not a traditional point guard, and Kukoc was an underrated passing big man. The Bulls didn’t have a primary distributor as many contenders did, but they passed just fine. It may seem incongruous, but the ‘98 Bulls won games by playing good shot defense and taking way more shots than the other team.
Modern Comps:
PG: 2016 Marcus Smart (but a poor scorer instead of an awful one)
SG: 2011 Dwyane Wade (but a less efficient scorer)
SF: 2008 Paul Pierce (missed half the year, better on defense)
PF: 2019 Eric Bledsoe (better offense, worse defense)
C: 2014 David West
6th: 1998 Dennis Rodman
I’m actually fine with this. Harper as young Marcus Smart works. Longley as old David West seems understandable, given that little of Longley’s profile suggests the rebounding/defense of a giant. Pippen as ‘08 Pierce works for me too; both did everything well. I actually really like the Wade comp for ‘98 Jordan. It may seem strange, but ‘98 Jordan didn’t really shoot from the field that well; he made his money on getting to the line a ton. In the sense that both players carried a big load, got to the line a ton, were strong defenders and rebounded very well for guards, they’re actually pretty similar. I laughed when I saw Bledsoe for Kukoc, because at first glance the two couldn’t be more different. At the same time, neither shot very well (in their years), both passed well, they rebounded similarly (Bledsoe as a strong rebounding small, Kukoc as a weak-rebounding big) . . . it’s not quite so incongruous as it may seem. And Rodman? Basically imagine the best rebounder ever or close to it, a strong defender, but who could only score right at the basket (and not well even then), who passed some but turned the ball over a ton. That was Rodman. On the court anyways. It’s not an awe-inspiring roster; none of those players is a super-stud. But ‘11 Wade and ‘08 Pierce make a very capable team and the rest of the squad rounded them out.
The Bulls, despite a down year from Jordan and missing Pippen for half the year, had a strong regular season. Not as strong as prior years, but just fine, certainly enough to get the one-seed in the East. In the first round they faced the +1.9 New Jersey Nets. The Bulls swept them by 7.7 points a game and won all Four Factors. Jordan showed that, even in his last year, he still had his playoff mode, averaging a 36/5/3 on +9.7% shooting. For a series against an average team the margin was lackluster, but it was a win nonetheless.
In the second round the Bulls faced the not much better +2.4 Charlotte Hornets. Again the Bulls won all Four Factors, though this time the victory was more defensive. Jordan averaged a 30/6/5 on only -0.3%, and the Bulls as a team shot -0.8%. But they held the Hornets to -3.3% as a team, and took 5-6 extra shots a game. In the end it was enough for a five-game win by 9.6 points a game. It was a solid, but not remarkable performance against a decent team.
In the Conference Finals they finally faced a strong opponent, the +8.3 Indiana Pacers. And to the Pacers’ credit, they played the Bulls tight. Reggie Miller averaged 17 on +6.3%, Rik Smits 16 on +10.4% and Dale Davis 10 on +12.2%. The team as a wholeshot +3.6%, an achievement against the Bulls’ defense. And the Bulls couldn’t compete with shooting; they shot right at league average, with Jordan averaging a 32/6/4 on +3.2%. But they did what the ‘98 Bulls did best; hammered them with possession. Pippen averaged 2 steals a game, the Bulls turned the ball over twice less a game than the Pacers and the Bulls dominated the glass. Rodman only averaged 4 offensive rebounds a game, but Harper and Longley averaged 2 and Pippen 3. The combined weight of these efforts was worth 9-10 shots a game, and that was enough. The Bulls won in seven, by a narrow 4.2 points per game. It wasn’t dominant by a long shot, but it was a solid win over a very good team, so that definitely counts.
And in the NBA FInals was a rematch against the Jazz (+8.3). This was a weird series. The Jazz won two games by 3 and 2 points, and the Bulls won three games by 5, 4 and 1 point. Seems pretty even. Wait, are we missing one? Oh yeah, the Bulls won game 3 by 42. They led by 29 at the end of the third, clearly letting their bench run up the score in the fourth. Because v1 doesn’t cut off blowouts (whether by margin or the end of the 3rd), this leads the series to looking pretty lopsided, with the Bulls winning in six by 7.8 points per game. And look, it was. It wasn’t like Game 3 didn’t happen. The Bulls weren’t incredibly successful on offense, shooting only -1.4% as a team (Jordan averaged a 34/4/2 on -0.8% shooting, with an insane 41.2% usage rate). But they greatly slowed the Jazz’ shooting (-2.3% as a team) and dominated possession (6 extra shots a game). Whether you are capping their game 3 blowout or not, the Bulls beat the Jazz decisively.
The Bulls had won their sixth championship in eight years, their second three-peat. Jordan in his final year had bumped his usage and his efficiency in the playoffs. The Bulls had danced their last dance.
10 | Bulls
9 |
8 |
7 | Pacers, Jazz
6 | Lakers
5 | Spurs
4 |
3 | Heat, Knicks, Hawks, Sonics
2 | Suns
1 | Nets, Hornets, Cavs, Blazers, Wizards, Pistons
0 | Wolves
-0 | Magic
-1 | Rockets, Celtics, 76ers, Bucks
-2 |
-3 |
-4 |
-5 | Kings
-6 | Mavs
-7 | Grizzlies, Clippers
-8 | Raptors
-9 | Warriors
-10|
-11| Nuggets
1998 was a weird year. It gets very low marks for competitiveness. Look at the bottom of the league. The Nuggets were historically bad, and they weren’t the only ones. We’re looking at seven teams (24% of the league) that averaged between them about -8, compared with 1972 that had four teams (24% of the league) that averaged between them about -8 . . . So 1998 was basically just as garbage-tastic as 1972. Which is saying something. But 1998 isn’t seen as rising to that level of unbalanced. Why? Where ‘72 had two teams crazy high and then the 3rd best in the +6 range, 1998 has one team in the +10 range (the Bulls) and then nobody above +8. So basically . . . 1998 was just as bad at the bottom as 1972, but instead of it producing two ATG juggernauts it produced one extremely good team and then a bunch of very good teams. So the 1998 Bulls are basically credited for being way, way better than the rest of their league, even if the bottom of their league was historically bad.
The Bulls’ regular season was quality (37th), and their playoffs were very strong (27th). They beat the 2nd and 3rd best teams in the league, one decently, one decisively. Whatever else you want to say, there is no question that the Bulls were the best team in that year by a healthy margin.
Honestly, I feel some cognitive dissonance from the ‘98 Bulls being above the ‘72 Lakers. Sure 1972 was a weaker league than 1998, but not by a ton. The Lakers’ regular season was clearly far better. PSRS rates the Bulls’ playoffs as better . . . but was it? The Nets and Hornets weren’t bad teams, but they sure as heck were worse than anyone the Lakers played. And the Lakers don’t get credit for playing four series like the Bulls. I’ve got to figure out a way around the sample size problem; I feel like it’s prejudicing the list against older teams. But that’s a different problem. But either way, formula or not, I feel like the ‘98 Bulls are comfortably less “dominant” than the ‘72 Lakers.
I guess there are two ways to look at the ‘98 Bulls. One is that they were a very good team that was made to look great by a very weak league that, somehow, didn’t produce any other teams at this level. The other is that they played in a weak league, but dominated it, demonstrating a clear distance from everyone else by beating the next two best teams solidly. If 1998’s bottom was so weak, where were the other dominant teams?
Basically, they were *clearly* the best team of their year, by an amount that was impressive. Either they did it because they were great, or simply lucky because (somehow) the year produced a ton of good teams and zero other great teams. Probably some of both.
Either way. They were old. And they were beset by drama on all sides. Maybe they couldn’t shoot that well anymore. But they still took care of business. In terms of gaudy stats, it was definitely not the most impressive Bulls championship. In terms of how hard they had to work for things that used to be easy, for playing as a team even as outside forces prepared to destroy their dynasty . . . it might be one of their most impressive.
PG: Ron Harper, +1.9 / +2.3
SG: Michael Jordan, +6.9 / +9.0
SF: Scottie Pippen, +5.0 / +5.6
PF: Toni Kukoc, +3.3 / +5.1
C: Luc Longley, -0.8 / -1.2
6th: Dennis Rodman, -0.2 / -1.7
Regular Season Metrics:
Regular Season Record: 62-20, Regular Season SRS: +7.24 (37th), Earned the 1 Seed
Regular Season Offensive Rating: +2.7 (66th), Regular Season Defensive Rating: -5.2 (25th)
Shooting Advantage: +1.6%, Possession Advantage: +4.2 shooting possessions per game
Michael Jordan (SG, 34): 44 MPPG, 32% OLoad, 32 / 7 / 4 / 4 on +0.9%
Scottie Pippen (SF, 32): 42 MPPG, 25% OLoad, 22 / 6 / 7 / 3 on +0.9%
Toni Kukoc (PF, 29): 34 MPPG, 23% OLoad, 15 / 5 / 5 / 2 on +0.1%
Luc Longley (C, 29): 33 MPPG, 21% OLoad, 13 / 7 / 3 / 2 on -3.2%
Ron Harper (PG, 34): 31 MPPG, 17% OLoad, 11 / 4 / 3 / 2 on -2.1%
Dennis Rodman (PF, 36): 40 MPPG, 10% OLoad, 5 / 17 / 3 / 1 on -6.5%
Scoring/100: Michael Jordan (40.0 / +0.9%), Scottie Pippen (27.5 / +0.9%), Toni Kukoc (23.7 / +0.1%)
Assists/100: Scottie Pippen (8.3), Toni Kukoc (7.6), Ron Harper (5.7)
Heliocentrism: 37.2% (39th of 84 teams) - Jordan
Wingmen: 30.9% (72nd) - Kukoc & Pippen
Depth: 31.9% (29th)
Playoff Metrics:
Playoff Offensive Rating: +5.42 (52nd), Playoff Defensive Rating: -8.00 (17th)
Playoff SRS: +12.99 (27th), Total SRS Increase through Playoffs: +3.69 (27th)
Shooting Advantage: -0.1, Possession Advantage: +6.8 shooting possessions per game
Average Playoff Opponent Offense: +4.40 (4th), Average Playoff Opponent Defense: -0.72 (79th)
Michael Jordan (SG, 34): 47 MPPG, 35% OLoad, 36 / 6 / 4 / 2 on +2.1%
Scottie Pippen (SF, 32): 45 MPPG, 24% OLoad, 19 / 8 / 6 / 4 on -2.4%
Toni Kukoc (PF, 29): 34 MPPG, 20% OLoad, 15 / 4 / 3 / 2 on +3.7%
Luc Longley (C, 29): 29 MPPG, 18% OLoad, 9 / 6 / 2 / 2 on -0.6%
Ron Harper (PG, 34): 30 MPPG, 14% OLoad, 8 / 4 / 3 / 2 on +3.7%
Dennis Rodman (PF, 36): 39 MPPG, 11% OLoad, 6 / 13 / 2 / 1 on -10.5%
Scoring/100: Michael Jordan (44.5 / +2.1%), Toni Kukoc (24.6 / +3.7%), Scottie Pippen (24.1 / -2.4%)
Assists/100: Scottie Pippen (7.5), Toni Kukoc (5.4), Ron Harper (4.9)
Playoff Heliocentrism: 38.7% (33rd of 84 teams) - Jordan
Playoff Wingmen: 43.5% (26th) - Pippen & Kukoc
Playoff Depth: 17.8% (62nd)
Round 1: New Jersey Nets (+1.9), won 3-0, by +7.7 points per game (+9.6 SRS eq)
Round 2: Charlotte Hornets (+2.4), won 4-1, by +9.6 points per game (+12.0 SRS eq)
Round 3: Indiana Pacers (+8.3), won 4-3, by +4.2 points per game (+12.5 SRS eq)
Round 4: Utah Jazz (+8.3), won 4-2, by +7.8 points per game (+16.1 SRS eq)
Offensive / Defensive Ratings from Opposition Regular Season Average
New Jersey Nets: +10.8 / +0.3
Charlotte Hornets: +3.6 / -10.3
Indiana Pacers: +12.6 / +0.9
Utah Jazz: +0.1 / -16.6
Playoff Shooting Advantage / Possession Advantage per 100 (unadjusted):
New Jersey Nets: +2.3% / +3.6 SPPX
Charlotte Hornets: +2.5% / +6.5 SPPX
Indiana Pacers: -3.6% / +11.4 SPPX
Utah Jazz: +0.9% / +7.7 SPPX
Postseason Usage/Efficiency Change adjusted for Opposition:
Ron Harper, -3.4% / +0.7%
Michael Jordan, +2.9% / +1.5%
Scottie Pippen, -1.4% / -3.0%
Toni Kukoc, -1.5% / +3.9%
Luc Longley, -3.1% / +2.9%
Dennis Rodman, +1.6% / -3.7%
I think it’s notable that the two last Bulls’ championship teams show up as the worst. And it’s totally intuitive. On one level, you have the fact that motivation will rarely be as high going into the threepeat season as it is in the first. And on the other level, rosters simply get older. Going into 1998, the Bulls’ roster was *old*. Jordan and Ron Harper were 34. Pippen was 32, and struggling to stay healthy. Toni Kukoc and Luc Longley were 29. Dennis Rodman was 36. None of these players became overnight bad. But they all got a little bit worse. And when your entire starting roster gets a little bit worse, it’s pretty normal for the team overall to take a big step back. And they did. Within reason.
In 1997 the Bulls had won 69 games and posted a +10.70 RSRS. In 1998 they only won 62 games and posted a +7.24 RSRS. Those marks were still the best in the league, but not by a lot. Some of the drop was exaggerated by Pippen missing half the year with . . . well, that’s kind of a story.
Much of this has been covered by the Last Dance documentary. You would be forgiven for thinking that the Bulls, having won five titles in seven years, would be an organization unified by winning. It was anything but. The sources of tension were too many to name, though I will do my best.
Jerry Krause. He had been the Bulls’ GM since 1985, just after they had drafted Jordan. His fingerprints were all over the ‘91-93 Bulls championships. He drafted Scottie Pippen and Horace Grant, ensuring that Jordan would have the wingmen necessary to leverage his talent to the fullest. He fired coach Doug Collins, despite the improvement that had occurred under him, and Krause promoted assistant coach Phil Jackson to head coach. And he traded Charles Oakley for Bill Cartright, rounding out the roster. When the Bulls won from ‘91 to ‘93, they were doing it with the coach and roster that Krause had built. And Michael Jordan.
Jordan was crazy competitive. Emphasis on the crazy. Also the competitive. He’d compete over anything. When standing at the airport, waiting for luggage to emerge, he was fond of betting the other players that his would come out first. And he was notorious for bribing the grounds crew to make sure that he would win that bet. Jordan had to win. Every damned part of his life was somewhere he had to prove himself. And this led to a complex relationship with the Bulls’ roster and teammates. While from a distance he was extremely competitive, to his peers his behavior vacillated between the camaraderie of a brother and the domineering of a bully. Jordan wasn’t one to be patient with the weakness of others; in Jordan’s world weakness was a thing to be purged. Ruthlessly. Much of life for Jordan was a zero sum game, and he had to win which meant that others had to lose. His teammates in the mid-80s had done nothing to mollify this, teaching him an understandable contempt for the cast he was being asked to carry. Jordan did not give his approval lightly. Late 90s teammate Steve Kerr once took exception to some of Jordan’s trash talk in practice. Jordan confronted him and Kerr threw a punch. It took teammates to pull Jordan off of Kerr. But the fact that Kerr had been willing to throw down with Jordan, who was 3 inches taller and 25 pounds heavier, earned Jordan’s respect. With Jordan respect could only be earned, never given, and he prized alpha-male confidence, competitiveness and swagger.
Jerry Krause was 5’6”. He was comfortably saggy around the middle. He dressed shabbily, to Jordan’s eyes, and was often seen with food stains on his clothes. But perhaps the hardest part was this; Krause seemed to worship Jordan (and to a lesser extent, the other athletes). This may be projection, but footage of Krause with the team struck me as nothing so much as the chubby nerd who was so excited to hang out with the cool kids, desperately hoping for acceptance. Many times he was mocked by Jordan and others, and Krause would often laugh awkwardly along with it. But to Jordan such behavior could never earn respect; the pack leader may accept the submission of the zeta showing his belly, but never respect it. The belonging that Krause craved was not to be.
Compounding matters, Krause was effectively Jordan’s boss. And Krause acted as bosses do. He did what he thought was best, even if that included trading Jordan’s friend Charles Oakley, or drafting someone other than the player that Jordan wanted. Though this is speculative, it must have rankled Jordan, to be the greatest player in the world, the Alpha among Alphas, but be subject to the whims of a zeta beancounter. And, for better or for worse, Jordan couldn’t do it alone. Though he surely tried. Through the mid-80s he had put up some of the best individual numbers a player has ever put up, willing weak rosters to wins with a greatness that few born have ever managed. And it was never enough. Jordan, for all his individual brilliance, could never compete with a strong *team*, be it the Celtics of Larry Bird or the Pistons of Isiah Thomas. He may have been the biggest and strongest, packs of smaller and weaker than he would always pull him down. I know he would deny it, but his helplessness to win without help, his dependence on Krause, could never have sat easily.
And Krause, insecure in a different but no less powerful way than Jordan, wanted his share of the credit. Krause was not content to sit in the shadows, watching others receive credit for his successes. His career as a scout and executive was a long list of him making the right call, but being ignored for someone less competent. Now that he was the GM of his own team, a smith with his own forge. And he had been blessed with the greatest raw material a GM can be given, a once in a generation young superstar. He stoked the fires until they were white hot, burning off the impurities of the roster that could not help him. And with time, skill, and Jordan he wrought the blade that would cut through the rest of the league as through paper. No slave to big names and alpha-scorers, Krause surrounded the greatest scorer ever with role-players that complimented Jordan’s skills. With spot-up shooters like Paxson, Kerr and Armstrong, strong passers like Pippen and Kukoc, great rebounders like Pippen, Rodman and Grant and great defenders like Cartright, Harper and Pippen, he built a dynasty around Jordan. Twice.
And he wanted the credit for it.
The credit, for better or for worse, was not to come. What credit that did not go to Jordan and the rest of the players went to coach Phil Jackson. Jackson was a skilled coach and would prove himself adept at getting the most out of difficult personalities (a trait that was to be tested by Jordan, then Rodman, then Kobe). Krause resented the fact that Jackson got the credit for being the right man for the job, while Krause got no credit for hiring the right man for the job. Not only had Krause hired Jackson, but had accommodated him with the roster. When Jerry Reinsdorf, the owner, tried to extend Jackson’s contract past 1996 the coach declined, saying that after a certain number of years the words of a coach lost their effectiveness. Knowing that Jordan would only play for Jackson (or so he had said privately), the owner pressured Jackson to name his terms. Jackson said that he would only stay if all players besides Jordan were replaced (so he could start fresh). While Pippen was retained, Krause dutifully rebuilt the roster as requested, making it even better than before. Yet again, Jackson got the credit.
Tensions ratched up between the two, to the point where Krause announced that Jackson would not be extended past the 1998 season, no matter how successful the postseason. Jordan, mentally drained from his efforts and not wanting to play for anyone else, intended to retire at the end of the season. That alone created tension around the team.
Scottie Pippen was another matter. After the first championship in 1991 Pippen had signed an extension, seven years at near three million a year. It was a good deal on its face; in 1992 he was paid almost as much as Jordan and it bought security for his family. He had grown up poor in a small Arkansas town with 11 siblings, and his father and one of his brothers were both paralyzed. Pippen saw his first responsibility as providing for his family, and he was the guaranteed money on this contract as doing so. But his relatively static deal didn’t keep up with the new CBA. In ‘95 he earned less money than four other Bulls. By ‘97 he was 6th on the Bulls, making a quarter what Rodman made, and about 7.5% of what Jordan made. He wanted a new contract.
The Bulls refused. There is right on both sides. On one hand, Pippen had freely and knowingly accepted his contract. The risk of a long-term deal for the Bulls was that Pippen’s quality of play would decline. The risk of a long-term deal for Pippen was that circumstances would make him worth considerably more money. As it happened Pippen’s risk was actualized while the Bulls’ was not. But Pippen surely knew of this risk, and signed the contract anyways. At the same time, Pippen was criminally underpaid going into the ‘98 season, and not in the ridiculous “I need enough to feed my family” way. Had the Bulls given in, perhaps they could have extended him on a more expensive but team-friendly deal. But neither side budged.
So Pippen passive-aggressively waited until the start of the year to have surgery on an injury, deliberately missing half the season. It was unquestionably selfish, understandable if not excusable. This is all a long way of saying that the ‘98 Bulls, despite coming off a repeat championship, were an old roster steeping in tension and frustration, on the part of all involved.
But enough about off-court issues, let’s talk about their performance on the court. Most writeups about the ‘98 Bulls talk about Jordan’s increased load because of Pippen’s absence. But I can’t actually find any evidence of it. I mean, it was slightly higher than ‘97, but nothing remarkable. I have his OLoad around 32%, which is high but not incredible, compared with his 34% OLoad in ‘93. However, that number is a little misleading. First, OLoad contains turnovers and Jordan, by the end of his career, turned the ball over quite rarely. And the second is that Jordan, for whatever combination of reasons, passed the ball less than any prior point in his career. Whether you used Assist%, Assists per game, Assists per 36 or Assists per 100, 1998 was Jordan’s least facilitating role to that point (obviously assists only say so much, but the change is extremely suggestive). So when it comes to taking shots, Jordan was taking as much as at any prior point. But due to reduced passing and turnovers, it actually seems like his role reduced in the ‘98 regular season, if perhaps not by as much as he would have wished.
That said, by Jordan standards it was a down year. He shot at a lower efficiency than in any prior championship year by a good margin. And this is part of why the ‘98 Bulls have such a curious statistical footprint. A team with Michael Jordan intuitively wins by shooting. But the ‘98 Bulls were actually quite bad at shooting, 19th in a league of 29. Nobody on the team was shooting well. Jordan and Pippen barely shot over league average, Kukoc didn’t shoot any better while Longley, Harper and Rodman all shot below league average (and in Rodman’s case, by a lot). Much to my surprise, the ‘98 Bulls stat profile looks a lot more like the, say, ‘04 Pistons than I might have guessed. The ‘04 Pistons couldn’t shoot, but they played great shot defense and took a lot more shots than the other team.
The more one thinks about it, though, this shouldn’t be a huge surprise. That Bulls roster was loaded with defense. Jordan and Pippen, even in their advanced years, were very good defenders. Ron Harper was a defensive specialist, Longley was 7’2” and Rodman, though not as good as in his prime, was still strong on that end. And rebounding. You may be thinking of Rodman, perhaps the best rebounder ever. The Bulls were a really good rebounding team. Remember, both Jordan and Pippen were unusually good rebounders and Harper was an outstanding rebounder for a point guard. Also the Bulls turned the ball over extremely little. Jordan had the ball the most and he turned it over very little, but Harper and Pippen were equally tight with the ball. You may think that they didn’t turn it over much because they didn’t pass that much, but that isn’t true. Pippen was a strong passer if not a traditional point guard, and Kukoc was an underrated passing big man. The Bulls didn’t have a primary distributor as many contenders did, but they passed just fine. It may seem incongruous, but the ‘98 Bulls won games by playing good shot defense and taking way more shots than the other team.
Modern Comps:
PG: 2016 Marcus Smart (but a poor scorer instead of an awful one)
SG: 2011 Dwyane Wade (but a less efficient scorer)
SF: 2008 Paul Pierce (missed half the year, better on defense)
PF: 2019 Eric Bledsoe (better offense, worse defense)
C: 2014 David West
6th: 1998 Dennis Rodman
I’m actually fine with this. Harper as young Marcus Smart works. Longley as old David West seems understandable, given that little of Longley’s profile suggests the rebounding/defense of a giant. Pippen as ‘08 Pierce works for me too; both did everything well. I actually really like the Wade comp for ‘98 Jordan. It may seem strange, but ‘98 Jordan didn’t really shoot from the field that well; he made his money on getting to the line a ton. In the sense that both players carried a big load, got to the line a ton, were strong defenders and rebounded very well for guards, they’re actually pretty similar. I laughed when I saw Bledsoe for Kukoc, because at first glance the two couldn’t be more different. At the same time, neither shot very well (in their years), both passed well, they rebounded similarly (Bledsoe as a strong rebounding small, Kukoc as a weak-rebounding big) . . . it’s not quite so incongruous as it may seem. And Rodman? Basically imagine the best rebounder ever or close to it, a strong defender, but who could only score right at the basket (and not well even then), who passed some but turned the ball over a ton. That was Rodman. On the court anyways. It’s not an awe-inspiring roster; none of those players is a super-stud. But ‘11 Wade and ‘08 Pierce make a very capable team and the rest of the squad rounded them out.
The Bulls, despite a down year from Jordan and missing Pippen for half the year, had a strong regular season. Not as strong as prior years, but just fine, certainly enough to get the one-seed in the East. In the first round they faced the +1.9 New Jersey Nets. The Bulls swept them by 7.7 points a game and won all Four Factors. Jordan showed that, even in his last year, he still had his playoff mode, averaging a 36/5/3 on +9.7% shooting. For a series against an average team the margin was lackluster, but it was a win nonetheless.
In the second round the Bulls faced the not much better +2.4 Charlotte Hornets. Again the Bulls won all Four Factors, though this time the victory was more defensive. Jordan averaged a 30/6/5 on only -0.3%, and the Bulls as a team shot -0.8%. But they held the Hornets to -3.3% as a team, and took 5-6 extra shots a game. In the end it was enough for a five-game win by 9.6 points a game. It was a solid, but not remarkable performance against a decent team.
In the Conference Finals they finally faced a strong opponent, the +8.3 Indiana Pacers. And to the Pacers’ credit, they played the Bulls tight. Reggie Miller averaged 17 on +6.3%, Rik Smits 16 on +10.4% and Dale Davis 10 on +12.2%. The team as a wholeshot +3.6%, an achievement against the Bulls’ defense. And the Bulls couldn’t compete with shooting; they shot right at league average, with Jordan averaging a 32/6/4 on +3.2%. But they did what the ‘98 Bulls did best; hammered them with possession. Pippen averaged 2 steals a game, the Bulls turned the ball over twice less a game than the Pacers and the Bulls dominated the glass. Rodman only averaged 4 offensive rebounds a game, but Harper and Longley averaged 2 and Pippen 3. The combined weight of these efforts was worth 9-10 shots a game, and that was enough. The Bulls won in seven, by a narrow 4.2 points per game. It wasn’t dominant by a long shot, but it was a solid win over a very good team, so that definitely counts.
And in the NBA FInals was a rematch against the Jazz (+8.3). This was a weird series. The Jazz won two games by 3 and 2 points, and the Bulls won three games by 5, 4 and 1 point. Seems pretty even. Wait, are we missing one? Oh yeah, the Bulls won game 3 by 42. They led by 29 at the end of the third, clearly letting their bench run up the score in the fourth. Because v1 doesn’t cut off blowouts (whether by margin or the end of the 3rd), this leads the series to looking pretty lopsided, with the Bulls winning in six by 7.8 points per game. And look, it was. It wasn’t like Game 3 didn’t happen. The Bulls weren’t incredibly successful on offense, shooting only -1.4% as a team (Jordan averaged a 34/4/2 on -0.8% shooting, with an insane 41.2% usage rate). But they greatly slowed the Jazz’ shooting (-2.3% as a team) and dominated possession (6 extra shots a game). Whether you are capping their game 3 blowout or not, the Bulls beat the Jazz decisively.
The Bulls had won their sixth championship in eight years, their second three-peat. Jordan in his final year had bumped his usage and his efficiency in the playoffs. The Bulls had danced their last dance.
10 | Bulls
9 |
8 |
7 | Pacers, Jazz
6 | Lakers
5 | Spurs
4 |
3 | Heat, Knicks, Hawks, Sonics
2 | Suns
1 | Nets, Hornets, Cavs, Blazers, Wizards, Pistons
0 | Wolves
-0 | Magic
-1 | Rockets, Celtics, 76ers, Bucks
-2 |
-3 |
-4 |
-5 | Kings
-6 | Mavs
-7 | Grizzlies, Clippers
-8 | Raptors
-9 | Warriors
-10|
-11| Nuggets
1998 was a weird year. It gets very low marks for competitiveness. Look at the bottom of the league. The Nuggets were historically bad, and they weren’t the only ones. We’re looking at seven teams (24% of the league) that averaged between them about -8, compared with 1972 that had four teams (24% of the league) that averaged between them about -8 . . . So 1998 was basically just as garbage-tastic as 1972. Which is saying something. But 1998 isn’t seen as rising to that level of unbalanced. Why? Where ‘72 had two teams crazy high and then the 3rd best in the +6 range, 1998 has one team in the +10 range (the Bulls) and then nobody above +8. So basically . . . 1998 was just as bad at the bottom as 1972, but instead of it producing two ATG juggernauts it produced one extremely good team and then a bunch of very good teams. So the 1998 Bulls are basically credited for being way, way better than the rest of their league, even if the bottom of their league was historically bad.
The Bulls’ regular season was quality (37th), and their playoffs were very strong (27th). They beat the 2nd and 3rd best teams in the league, one decently, one decisively. Whatever else you want to say, there is no question that the Bulls were the best team in that year by a healthy margin.
Honestly, I feel some cognitive dissonance from the ‘98 Bulls being above the ‘72 Lakers. Sure 1972 was a weaker league than 1998, but not by a ton. The Lakers’ regular season was clearly far better. PSRS rates the Bulls’ playoffs as better . . . but was it? The Nets and Hornets weren’t bad teams, but they sure as heck were worse than anyone the Lakers played. And the Lakers don’t get credit for playing four series like the Bulls. I’ve got to figure out a way around the sample size problem; I feel like it’s prejudicing the list against older teams. But that’s a different problem. But either way, formula or not, I feel like the ‘98 Bulls are comfortably less “dominant” than the ‘72 Lakers.
I guess there are two ways to look at the ‘98 Bulls. One is that they were a very good team that was made to look great by a very weak league that, somehow, didn’t produce any other teams at this level. The other is that they played in a weak league, but dominated it, demonstrating a clear distance from everyone else by beating the next two best teams solidly. If 1998’s bottom was so weak, where were the other dominant teams?
Basically, they were *clearly* the best team of their year, by an amount that was impressive. Either they did it because they were great, or simply lucky because (somehow) the year produced a ton of good teams and zero other great teams. Probably some of both.
Either way. They were old. And they were beset by drama on all sides. Maybe they couldn’t shoot that well anymore. But they still took care of business. In terms of gaudy stats, it was definitely not the most impressive Bulls championship. In terms of how hard they had to work for things that used to be easy, for playing as a team even as outside forces prepared to destroy their dynasty . . . it might be one of their most impressive.
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