As I sat watching the 2023 NBA Finals, I found myself wondering about the teams that danced with destiny but never quite sealed the deal. Which NBA teams that never won a championship came closest to glory? This question has haunted basketball fans for generations, and today I want to explore this fascinating topic through both statistical analysis and personal reflection. Having followed the NBA for over twenty years, I've developed a particular soft spot for these "almost" teams - the franchises that built something special but fell just short of immortality.
The landscape of NBA history is littered with teams that came heartbreakingly close to championship glory. When I think about near-misses, my mind immediately goes to the 1990s Utah Jazz, who reached the NBA Finals twice only to fall to Michael Jordan's Bulls both times. Karl Malone and John Stockton formed one of the most lethal duos in basketball history, yet they never quite captured that elusive ring. The numbers tell a sobering story - the Jazz lost to Chicago in six games in 1997 and again in 1998, with Game 6 of the 1998 Finals decided by a single basket. What fascinates me about these Jazz teams is how they perfected their system over years, only to run into the greatest player of all time at his peak. I've always felt that in any other era, Stockton and Malone would have multiple championships.
Another team that consistently comes up in these discussions is the Phoenix Suns of the mid-2000s. Led by two-time MVP Steve Nash, they played some of the most beautiful basketball I've ever witnessed. The 2006-07 Suns won 61 games and seemed destined for the Finals until Robert Horry's infamous hip check on Nash in the Western Conference Semifinals changed everything. That moment still stings when I think about it - the Suns were arguably the best team in basketball that year, yet they never got their shot at the title. Statistics show they had the league's best offense that season, scoring an incredible 110.2 points per game, but sometimes basketball comes down to one unfortunate bounce or one controversial suspension.
The reference to Ricardo's story about vacation planning and discovering talent unexpectedly resonates with how some of these teams were built. Just as Ricardo's wife helped facilitate an important connection, many of these near-championship teams were constructed through unexpected discoveries and relationships. The 2012 Oklahoma City Thunder, for instance, built their core through astute drafting rather than big free agent signings. They reached the Finals with three future MVPs all under 23 years old - a statistical anomaly that still amazes me. I genuinely believed they would win multiple championships, but they fell to LeBron James' Heat in five games and never returned to the Finals together.
What strikes me about analyzing these teams is how thin the margin between immortality and obscurity can be. The 2002 Sacramento Kings, for example, lost one of the most controversial Game 7s in NBA history to the Lakers. I've watched that fourth quarter dozens of times, and I'm still convinced the Kings were the better team that year. They won 61 games during the regular season and had what analytics would call a "championship-caliber" net rating of +8.4. Sometimes I wonder how different the league's history would be if a few calls had gone differently or if Chris Webber's knee had held up. The "what if" game is both frustrating and endlessly compelling for basketball nerds like myself.
The Indiana Pacers of the late 1990s represent another fascinating case study in coming up just short. Reggie Miller's teams reached the Eastern Conference Finals multiple times but always found themselves blocked by Jordan's Bulls or the physical Knicks. The 1998 Pacers took Chicago to seven games in the Conference Finals - the closest anyone came to beating the Bulls during their second three-peat. As a fan, I admired Miller's clutch performances and Larry Bird's coaching, but they needed just one more piece to get over the hump. The statistical evidence supports this - they ranked in the top five in both offensive and defensive rating that season but fell short in the ultimate test.
When considering which NBA teams that never won a championship came closest to glory, I have to mention the 2021 Phoenix Suns. After years in the wilderness, they surged to the Finals and took a 2-0 lead against Milwaukee before losing four straight. Having watched that series closely, I believe the Suns' collapse had more to do with Giannis Antetokounmpo's historic performance than any failure on their part. The numbers are staggering - Giannis averaged 35.2 points, 13.2 rebounds, and 5.0 assists while shooting 61.8% from the field. Sometimes you just run into an unstoppable force at the wrong moment.
Reflecting on all these teams, I've come to appreciate how championship success requires not just talent and system, but also timing and luck. The reference to discovering something unexpected, like hearing about Ricardo's PBA performance while on vacation, reminds me that championship teams often find their missing pieces in unexpected places. The 2015 Atlanta Hawks won 60 games and had four All-Stars, but they lacked that one transcendent playoff performer who could elevate them when it mattered most. Their system was beautiful during the regular season, but playoff basketball often comes down to individual brilliance in crucial moments.
After examining decades of NBA history, I've developed my own personal ranking of teams that never won but came closest. The 1998 Jazz top my list because they took the greatest team of all time to the absolute limit. The 2002 Kings come second due to their dominance and the controversial nature of their loss. The 2012 Thunder rank third because of their youth and the assumption they'd have multiple future chances. What's particularly heartbreaking about these teams is that their windows often close faster than expected - due to age, finances, or just bad luck. The Thunder, for instance, traded James Harden that very offseason, forever altering their trajectory.
In conclusion, the question of which NBA teams that never won a championship came closest to glory reveals as much about basketball's fine margins as it does about particular franchises. Having followed these stories for years, I've come to believe that these "almost" teams contribute significantly to the NBA's rich tapestry. They provide compelling narratives about what might have been and remind us that greatness isn't always measured in championships alone. The next time I hear about an unexpected discovery like Ricardo's PBA performance, I'll think about how championship teams often find their final pieces in similarly unexpected ways, while other talented squads remain forever on the cusp of immortality.