The Weight of One Trophy

By Austin T. Murphy

As I am wont to do, I found myself pondering during the recent "NBA Finals" drubbing that doesn't deserve to be recognized as such where Stephen Curry and Kevin Durant ought to be ranked All-Time in NBA history as individual players. With unprecedented abilities and talents at their disposal, each has shown in the past two years that they are rocketing up the charts despite what many expected to be a dilution of productivity once they teamed up (similar to LeBron James and Dwyane Wade in Miami).

Despite this expectation, the duo has emerged as possibly the most lethal offensive tandem we've ever seen. And unlike other star pairings that have fizzled due to personality clashes or inflated or damaged egos, Steph and KD complement each other so well that neither has taken a definitive step back from being an MVP-caliber player.

Sure, neither will likely win another regular season MVP playing together, but at the end of the sweep of the Cavaliers, there was an honestly difficult decision to be made regarding which of the two deserved to be named Finals MVP.

Now we all know that inevitably KD was selected as the Finals MVP for the second year in a row, largely due to his 43-point domination in game three that delivered yet another left-wing dagger three-pointer to follow last year's. Steph struggled mightily in that particular contest, but his brilliance in the three others (especially games two and four) supported the argument that perhaps Curry deserved to be named Finals MVP for the first time in three championship-winning series. 

Whether you believe KD was rightfully honored or that Steph was snubbed is not really the point here. The point is that for some strange reason, as I found myself contemplating their All-Time rankings, I somehow hinged each player's potential surging on which of the two would earn the award this year.

Consider this, Stephen Curry had a tremendous series even with the game three struggles. Before the series I had him ranked somewhere between #22 and #26 All-Time, and in accordance with my pre-series prediction I proposed that he would vault to #16 if he was named the 2018 NBA Finals MVP. 

Kevin Durant, on the other hand, I had already ranked somewhere between #18 and #22. As I expected (and hoped for) Curry to win Finals MVP, I didn't really give too much thought as to how Durant's ranking would change.

This morning I elected to lay out my full rankings for the top 50, and I now have Durant perched at #14 and Curry at #19.

The reason for my elaborating to this extent, if I can make it as understandable as possible, is that one has to wonder why an arbitrary honor (that has previously been bestowed upon guys like Cedric Maxwell, Tony Parker, and Andre Iguodala -- great players in their own rights but pretty far removed from top 50 All-Time status) holds that much weight? Does Curry's poor shooting night in game three really matter enough for his ranking to waver between #16 and #19? 

Albeit, the margin for error becomes infinitely smaller as we proceed higher up the rankings, but was that single game (in conjunction with three stellar performances) definitively tell us that he isn't better than Kevin Garnett, Dirk Nowitzki, and Elgin Baylor -- at least in my own rankings? 

Perhaps my initial prediction was a little overeager, and Steph really didn't have it in him to overtake those three current/future hall-of-famers. Maybe if that 43-point tsunami had been Steph's instead of KD's he would have vaulted even further. Or maybe he still has the potential to overtake those three, and it will just take another year or two or five. 

Either way, I have to imagine that all these evaluations that are made with dominating performances so fresh in our minds force overreactions and over/underestimations. And I'm not the only one making these determinations, but I surely have the wealth of NBA-related knowledge and of NBA history to state my case against other experts. 

If that isn't clear enough -- as I anticipated -- then I think my thesis here can be summed in the same way I have stated it before: we cannot fairly compare players across generations due to discrepancies in play-style, athleticism, or competition. As a corollary to this notion, we also should not try to rank players until their playing days are over. Incomplete evidence can be flawed and/or tainted. 

And with that, I consider this half-baked thought to be "complete." Happy Tuesday.