Unveiling the NBA's Most Incredible Streak Wins in Basketball History
I still remember sitting in a Madison Square Garden bar back in 2016, watching the Golden State Warriors chase their 73rd win. The atmosphere was electric, b
Looking back at the 1987 NBA Draft always brings a mix of nostalgia and analytical curiosity for me. As someone who has spent years studying basketball history and player development, I find this particular draft class fascinating not just for its headline names, but for the hidden narratives that unfolded over time. When I revisit scouting reports and old game footage, I’m reminded of how scouts and executives often operated on gut feelings and incomplete data—much like the sentiment echoed in that memorable quote from a Filipino observer: "If they're looking for a good salary, maganda talaga dito. Kaya lang siyempre, marami pa kaming hindi nano-notice kaya titingin-tiningin lang, pero siyempre, maganda siyang choice sa first pick." Translated loosely, it speaks to the allure of top picks offering financial security, while acknowledging the overlooked gems that slip through the cracks. This draft, in my view, perfectly encapsulates that tension between obvious talent and hidden potential.
The first pick that year was David Robinson, selected by the San Antonio Spurs, and honestly, he was about as safe a bet as you could get. Standing at 7'1" with a Naval Academy background, Robinson brought not just height but discipline and athleticism that made him an instant franchise player. I’ve always admired how he transformed the Spurs, leading them to two NBA championships and earning MVP honors in 1995. His career averages of 21.1 points and 10.6 rebounds per game are stellar, but what sticks with me is his impact off the court—his professionalism set a standard for future drafts. Yet, even with Robinson’s success, the draft had its share of surprises. Take Reggie Miller, picked 11th by the Indiana Pacers. Many scouts initially slept on him, focusing on his slender frame rather than his sharpshooting prowess. I remember watching his early games and thinking, "This guy is going to prove everyone wrong." And he did, becoming one of the league’s all-time leading scorers with over 25,000 points and a Hall of Fame induction. It’s players like Miller who remind me that draft night isn’t the final word—it’s just the beginning of a story.
On the flip side, the 1987 draft had its fair share of busts that still make me shake my head. Kenny Battle, selected 27th by the Detroit Pistons, is a classic example. He came out of Illinois with hype as a high-flying forward, but injuries and fit issues limited him to just 95 career games. I’ve dug into old interviews where coaches mentioned his "unnoticed potential," echoing that earlier quote about overlooked aspects, but ultimately, he never found his footing. Then there’s Tellis Frank, the 14th pick by the Golden State Warriors, who averaged a modest 6.8 points over six seasons. In my research, I found that Frank’s struggles were partly due to the era’s style—he was a tweener forward who might thrive today in a pace-and-space league. It’s a reminder that context matters; what seems like a bust in one decade could have been a gem in another. Personally, I think the draft’s biggest lesson is that teams often overvalue immediate fit over long-term development, leading to missed opportunities.
Beyond the top picks and obvious flops, the 1987 class included underrated players who carved out solid careers. Mark Jackson, chosen 18th by the New York Knicks, is a personal favorite of mine. He didn’t have the flash of a top pick, but his court vision and leadership made him a steady point guard for 17 seasons, finishing with over 10,000 assists—a number that still impresses me. Similarly, Kevin Johnson, picked 7th by the Cleveland Cavaliers (and later traded to the Phoenix Suns), became a three-time All-Star despite initial doubts. I recall watching him orchestrate fast breaks and thinking how his agility compensated for his smaller stature. These players exemplify the "hidden gems" idea; they weren’t the shiniest prospects, but they delivered value that exceeded their draft positions. In today’s analytics-driven NBA, I believe we’re better at spotting such talents, but back then, it was more about intuition and luck.
Wrapping up, the 1987 NBA Draft serves as a rich case study in risk and reward. From Robinson’s legendary career to Miller’s unexpected rise and the cautionary tales of busts like Battle, it highlights how drafting is part science, part art. Reflecting on that quote again, it’s clear that while first picks offer security, the real thrill lies in uncovering those overlooked players who redefine their legacies. As a fan and analyst, I’ve learned to appreciate the draft not just for its immediate outcomes, but for the stories that unfold over years. If I had to sum it up, I’d say this draft taught me that greatness isn’t always where you expect it—sometimes, it’s hiding in plain sight, waiting for the right moment to shine.