Reading an excerpt from a book called when it was war. It stated 87-88 was the best season and the NBA at its absolute peak. What does thecoli think? Here’s the excerpt
I have long believed the 1987-88 NBA season was the best in NBA history.
Why?
Because of the incredible talent. There were more future Hall of Famers in action that season than in any other single season from the very young (Scottie Pippen) to the relatively old (Kareem Abdul-Jabbar). Because of the four great dynasties, each at a different stage of development, competing in 1987–88. The Celtics, who’d won three titles in the 1980s, were beginning to slip but were still the Celtics. The Lakers, who’d won five titles that decade, though slightly past their peak, were still among the best ever. The Pistons were just reaching cruising altitude and might well have been the best team that year, even if few realized it. And the Bulls, in whom, though nascent and in the act of becoming, the contours of the great dynasty— six titles in eight seasons—could already be seen.
But maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I’ve fallen prey to the common belief that the past is always better than the present, that what we once had is always better than what we have now. Maybe it’s a case of mistaken identity. I was nineteen in 1988. Maybe it was less the 1987–88 season that was great than my life at the time.
I called friends, basketball players, sportswriters, fanatical fans, people involved in the game and kids just coming up, and asked their opinion: “Which NBA season was the greatest?”
I kept hearing about the same few seasons:
1976–77. The post-expansion, post-merger NBA. The talent pool was diluted. There were no dynastic teams, but parity made for thrilling competition. The Nets were the only team to finish the season with fewer than thirty wins. Kareem won the MVP. Pete Maravich scored the most points. Six of the seven playoff series went six or seven games. The Trail Blazers, led by a young Bill Walton, won the title.
1995–96. Having achieved peak power in Michael Jordan’s second iteration—MJ’s father had been killed, he’d left the game to play baseball, flailed, then returned—the Bulls recorded probably the greatest single season in league history. After finishing 72–10, that team went 15–3 in the playoffs and won the first of three consecutive championships.
2015–16. The Golden State Warriors broke the Bulls’ regular season record, finishing 73–9. Even so, the level of competition was high. It took Golden State seventy wins to clinch the top playoff seed. The Spurs, led by Tim Duncan and Kawhi Leonard, went 67–15. The postseason was a dogfight that ended with the Warriors battling the Cavaliers, whom LeBron James led to victory in Game 7 after being down three games to one.
But great as all of those seasons were, none of it changes my mind about 1987–88. Though I admit each campaign has its merits, that cases can be made, I believe that sports scenes, like music scenes, experience the occasional golden age that can be objectively recognized. I’m able to accept the 1950s and 1960s as the golden age of baseball—Willie Mays, Mickey Mantle, Stan Musial—even though I’m too young to have seen any of those icons play. I am able to accept that the golden age of hockey—Connor McDavid, Auston Matthews, Nathan MacKinnon—is happening right now. Men’s tennis rode a peak from Sampras to Federer. And to me, it seems clear the NBA experienced its peak, a boom that still enriches every player, in the late 1980s, when Bird and Magic were still great, the Bad Boy Pistons (meaning Isiah Thomas) were ascending, and the Bulls (meaning MJ) were in the shadows, stage left.
I have long believed the 1987-88 NBA season was the best in NBA history.
Why?
Because of the incredible talent. There were more future Hall of Famers in action that season than in any other single season from the very young (Scottie Pippen) to the relatively old (Kareem Abdul-Jabbar). Because of the four great dynasties, each at a different stage of development, competing in 1987–88. The Celtics, who’d won three titles in the 1980s, were beginning to slip but were still the Celtics. The Lakers, who’d won five titles that decade, though slightly past their peak, were still among the best ever. The Pistons were just reaching cruising altitude and might well have been the best team that year, even if few realized it. And the Bulls, in whom, though nascent and in the act of becoming, the contours of the great dynasty— six titles in eight seasons—could already be seen.
But maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I’ve fallen prey to the common belief that the past is always better than the present, that what we once had is always better than what we have now. Maybe it’s a case of mistaken identity. I was nineteen in 1988. Maybe it was less the 1987–88 season that was great than my life at the time.
I called friends, basketball players, sportswriters, fanatical fans, people involved in the game and kids just coming up, and asked their opinion: “Which NBA season was the greatest?”
I kept hearing about the same few seasons:
1976–77. The post-expansion, post-merger NBA. The talent pool was diluted. There were no dynastic teams, but parity made for thrilling competition. The Nets were the only team to finish the season with fewer than thirty wins. Kareem won the MVP. Pete Maravich scored the most points. Six of the seven playoff series went six or seven games. The Trail Blazers, led by a young Bill Walton, won the title.
1995–96. Having achieved peak power in Michael Jordan’s second iteration—MJ’s father had been killed, he’d left the game to play baseball, flailed, then returned—the Bulls recorded probably the greatest single season in league history. After finishing 72–10, that team went 15–3 in the playoffs and won the first of three consecutive championships.
2015–16. The Golden State Warriors broke the Bulls’ regular season record, finishing 73–9. Even so, the level of competition was high. It took Golden State seventy wins to clinch the top playoff seed. The Spurs, led by Tim Duncan and Kawhi Leonard, went 67–15. The postseason was a dogfight that ended with the Warriors battling the Cavaliers, whom LeBron James led to victory in Game 7 after being down three games to one.
But great as all of those seasons were, none of it changes my mind about 1987–88. Though I admit each campaign has its merits, that cases can be made, I believe that sports scenes, like music scenes, experience the occasional golden age that can be objectively recognized. I’m able to accept the 1950s and 1960s as the golden age of baseball—Willie Mays, Mickey Mantle, Stan Musial—even though I’m too young to have seen any of those icons play. I am able to accept that the golden age of hockey—Connor McDavid, Auston Matthews, Nathan MacKinnon—is happening right now. Men’s tennis rode a peak from Sampras to Federer. And to me, it seems clear the NBA experienced its peak, a boom that still enriches every player, in the late 1980s, when Bird and Magic were still great, the Bad Boy Pistons (meaning Isiah Thomas) were ascending, and the Bulls (meaning MJ) were in the shadows, stage left.
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