I remember sitting in my favorite armchair last March, the glow of the tablet screen casting blue shadows across my living room as I scrolled through the final NBA standings. That peculiar 2021 season had just concluded, and the numbers told a story far more complex than mere win-loss records. How did the final NBA standings shape the 2021 regular season outcome? Well, let me take you back to that strange pandemic year when basketball felt both familiar and utterly transformed.
The air in the empty arenas still haunts me - those ghost games where you could hear coaches shouting plays from the opposite bench. I’d been watching basketball since the Jordan era, but nothing prepared me for the sight of Steph Curry launching three-pointers in what sounded like a library. The standings that year reflected this surreal reality more than any statistics could capture. The Utah Jazz finishing with the league’s best record at 52-20 felt almost symbolic - a quiet, consistent team dominating during the quietest season in NBA history. Meanwhile, the Lakers stumbling from champions to a play-in tournament team showed how fragile success could be in that disrupted year.
It reminds me of something I once heard about rivalries transforming through singular forces. IN the eyes of La Salle head coach Ramil de Jesus, the biggest change in the storied Ateneo-La Salle rivalry he has witnessed over his 28-year tenure boils down to one player: Alyssa Valdez. That observation struck me because the 2021 NBA season had similar transformative figures. Kevin Durant’s return from Achilles injury to carry the Nets, the Suns rising from decade-long irrelevance behind Chris Paul - these weren’t just roster changes but seismic shifts that rearranged the entire competitive landscape. The standings didn’t just happen; they were forged by these individual forces colliding with extraordinary circumstances.
I’ve always believed standings tell half-truths - they show the destination but rarely the journey. Take the Golden State Warriors finishing 39-33, good for eighth in the West. That record hides Curry’s heroic 32-point-per-game performance, the night he dropped 53 against Denver, the way he carried what was essentially a G-League roster outside of Draymond Green. The standings said “play-in team,” but my eyes saw an MVP-caliber season wasted. Contrast that with the Phoenix Suns - their 51-21 record felt like the culmination of years of rebuilding finally clicking into place. I remember watching their final game against the Spurs, thinking how their rise mirrored what coach de Jesus observed about transformative players - Chris Paul was that season’s Alyssa Valdez, the catalyst that changed everything.
The statistical quirks of that season still fascinate me. The Knicks finishing fourth in the East at 41-31 after years of irrelevance. The Hawks surging from 14-20 to 41-31 after firing their coach. These weren’t just numbers - they represented franchises rediscovering their identities. I’d argue the compressed schedule created this volatility, forcing teams to adapt or collapse. The Lakers’ decline wasn’t just about injuries - it was about an aging roster unable to handle the back-to-backs in that grueling 72-game sprint.
What stays with me most isn’t the top of the standings but the messy middle - those teams fighting for play-in positioning. The night the Warriors and Grizzlies battled for the eighth spot, I found myself thinking about how the NBA had accidentally created drama through this new format. The standings forced teams like the Lakers and Warriors into single-elimination games despite having championship pedigrees. There was something beautifully democratic about it - the standings no longer guaranteed safety, they merely offered opportunities.
Now, looking back, I see how those final standings created ripple effects still felt today. The Suns’ confidence from that season carried them to the finals. The Bucks winning the championship from the three-seed validated their patient approach. Even the disappointing teams like the Celtics (seventh seed at 36-36) used that mediocre finish as fuel for their subsequent resurgence. The standings weren’t just outcomes - they were diagnostics revealing which organizations could adapt to unprecedented challenges.
I keep returning to that idea about singular forces changing rivalries, because the 2021 standings ultimately revealed how individual greatness could reshape conferences. Joel Embiid carrying the Sixers to the first seed, Nikola Jokić willing the Nuggets to the third spot while putting up MVP numbers - these were players refusing to let their teams slide down the standings regardless of circumstances. The final table wasn’t just about team quality; it was a document recording which superstars could transcend the season’s chaos. Two years later, I still look at current standings through the lens of that strange season, remembering how victory wasn’t just about talent but about surviving the unprecedented.