The Other Kind of Great

When Hall of Fame careers needed a second engine

We’re comfortable with the extremes—solo carry jobs, or perfectly balanced duos. What sits in the middle is trickier: players who could absolutely be the best player on a team…just not always the best version of a championship team. That’s not a knock. It’s a reflection of how thin the air gets at the very top.

Because history shows it over and over—being “good enough” to lead a team and being “good enough” to win four rounds are two different demands.

The Load Changes in June

The regular season allows for range. You can win games in different ways, survive off rhythm, talent, or matchups. The playoffs narrow everything. Defensive attention tightens. Possessions slow down. Weaknesses get isolated. If you’re the primary option, every coverage is built around you. Every adjustment is aimed at taking you out. That’s where a second elite presence matters—not just as help, but as relief.

David Robinson — From Carrying to Sharing

David Robinson had already done everything you could ask of a No. 1.

• 1995 MVP

• 29.8 PPG, 10.7 RPG that season

• Consistent 50+ win teams

But the Spurs kept running into a wall in the playoffs. Teams could load up on Robinson, force decisions, and shrink the floor. Then came Tim Duncan. By 1999:

• Duncan: 21.7 PPG, 11.4 RPG (Playoffs: 23.2 / 11.5)

• Robinson: 15.8 PPG, 10.0 RPG

The shift wasn’t about Robinson declining—it was about redistribution. Duncan became the focal point, and Robinson’s game slotted into something cleaner, more sustainable across four rounds. Two titles followed.

Kevin Garnett — The Weight Finally Lifts

For years, Kevin Garnett was doing everything in Minnesota.

• 2004 MVP

• 24.2 PPG, 13.9 RPG, 5.0 APG

• Carried undermanned rosters deep into the West

But the burden showed up every postseason. Too much creation, too much responsibility, not enough support. In Boston, that changed. Alongside Paul Pierce and Ray Allen:

• Garnett drops to 18.8 PPG

• Becomes Defensive Player of the Year

• Anchors a historically elite defense

The scoring load lightens. The impact sharpens. The title follows in 2008.

Dirk Nowitzki — Same Player, Different Context

Dirk Nowitzki is one of the great No. 1 options ever. That part isn’t in question.

But early Dallas runs had a pattern:

• Elite offense

• Heavy reliance on Dirk’s shotmaking

• Playoff exits when defenses loaded up

By 2011, the structure changed.

• Jason Terry: 17.5 PPG in playoffs

• Tyson Chandler: defensive anchor

• Jason Kidd: control and pace

Dirk still leads (27.7 PPG in playoffs), but he isn’t solving every problem alone. The ecosystem holds. That’s the difference between carrying and finishing.

Hakeem Olajuwon — The Rare Exception

Hakeem Olajuwon is the outlier that proves the rule. 1994:

• 27.3 PPG, 11.9 RPG, 3.7 BPG (Playoffs: 28.9 / 11.0 / 4.0)

• No second All-Star

He wins it anyway. But look closer—Houston still builds a structure around him:

• Shooting everywhere

• Role clarity

• Defensive identity

Even the cleanest solo run isn’t truly solo. It just asks less from a second star and more from everyone else.

Isiah Thomas — The Shift Within a Dynasty

Isiah Thomas started as the clear engine. By the time Detroit wins in 1989 and 1990:

• Scoring load spreads

• Joe Dumars becomes co-equal offensively

• Defense defines the team

Thomas remains the leader, but the shape of the team changes. Less dependence, more balance. Back-to-back titles follow.

LeBron James — Even the Apex Needs Help

LeBron James is as close as it gets to a one-man system. 2007 Finals run:

• 25.1 PPG, 8.1 RPG, 8.0 APG

• Cleveland roster built around defense and shooting

Result: swept.

2012–2013 Miami:

• Dwyane Wade and Chris Bosh share load

• LeBron still leads, but doesn’t carry every possession

Result: back-to-back titles.

Even at that level, the difference shows up in how much has to be forced.

The Late-Career Unlock

There’s a pattern here that shows up again and again: A player proves they can lead. Then, later, they find a situation where they don’t have to do everything. And the game gets easier.

• Better shots

• Cleaner decisions

• More energy on defense

• More consistency across a series

It’s not about becoming less. It’s about becoming more efficient at scale.

Why This Matters

The league doesn’t lack great players. It lacks players who can:

• Create against any coverage

• Sustain it across four rounds

• Do it while being the sole focus

That’s the rarest skill in the sport.

So when a Hall of Fame player finds a second engine—someone who can take possessions, shift coverage, absorb pressure—it changes the equation. Not their legacy. Not their talent. The math.

The Quiet Truth

Some players prove they can carry a team. Fewer prove they can win that way. And a lot of all-time great careers found their peak not when they had more ability—but when they had more help in the right places.