I remember watching my first NBA game back in 1998, completely mesmerized by the symphony of squeaking sneakers and swishing nets. What struck me most wasn't just the athleticism, but the stories behind those numbered jerseys - particularly number 21, which has been worn by some of basketball's most fascinating characters. When I think about jersey number 21 in NBA history, it's impossible not to reflect on how certain numbers become synonymous with greatness, much like how certain moments define careers. The recent boxing controversy where a fighter felt "robbed of a chance to make history" resonates deeply with me when considering some of these players' careers - how championship opportunities, MVP votes, and legacy-defining moments sometimes slipped through their fingers in ways that felt equally unjust.
Tim Duncan immediately comes to mind - the stoic power forward who anchored the San Antonio Spurs for 19 remarkable seasons. I've always believed Duncan represents the gold standard for number 21, having secured 5 championship rings and 2 MVP awards while maintaining that quiet dominance that sometimes made people underestimate his impact. His fundamental approach might not have generated the highlight-reel excitement of some contemporaries, but watching him methodically dismantle opponents felt like witnessing basketball poetry. Then there's Kevin Garnett, whose intensity could literally change the temperature in an arena. I'll never forget his 2004 MVP season or how he dragged that 2008 Celtics team to championship glory - his emotional leadership was as valuable as his 25.0 points and 12.7 rebounds per game that season.
What fascinates me about jersey number 21 is how it's been worn by players who often flew slightly under the radar despite their immense talents. Dominique Wilkins comes to mind - the "Human Highlight Film" who scored over 26,000 points in his career but never got that championship ring he deserved. I've always felt history hasn't been entirely fair to Wilkins; his 1986 scoring title and those breathtaking dunk contests deserved more recognition. Then there's Joel Embiid, the current torchbearer for number 21, whose MVP season last year finally delivered on the promise we'd seen developing since his 2014 draft selection. Watching his 33.1 points per game average last season reminded me of vintage Shaq at times.
The boxing quote about being "robbed of a chance to make history" hits particularly hard when considering players like Bill Sharman, who wore 21 during his playing days before coaching the 1972 Lakers to that historic 33-game winning streak. Or Michael Cooper, whose 8 All-Defensive team selections never translated to the individual stardom his defensive genius warranted. I've always maintained that Cooper's perimeter defense would be even more valuable in today's three-point heavy NBA than it was during the Showtime era. There's something about number 21 that seems to attract these complex legacies - players who achieved greatness but perhaps not the exact recognition they deserved.
Looking back through NBA annals, I'm struck by how number 21 has been worn by exactly 47 different players according to basketball-reference data, with about 12 of them making significant impacts on their franchises. Quentin Richardson's single season in number 21 before switching to 3 comes to mind - his 226 three-pointers for Phoenix in 2004-05 demonstrated the evolving role of the wing player. Meanwhile, World B. Free's flamboyant scoring while wearing 21 for Philadelphia embodied the exciting, if sometimes inefficient, offense of that era. What I love about tracking this particular jersey number is discovering these connective threads between different basketball generations.
As I reflect on these players, I can't help but feel that jersey number 21 represents something special in basketball - not necessarily the flashiest stars, but often the most fundamentally sound and impactful players. The boxing commentator's frustration with "the ugly side" of sports resonates when considering how injuries derailed potential number 21 greats like Vlade Divac's later years or limited what Shareef Abdur-Rahim might have accomplished on better teams. Yet what endures are these incredible careers that collectively form a tapestry of basketball excellence. The next time you see number 21 on the court, take a moment to appreciate the legacy that player is stepping into - it's a number that has consistently represented both statistical excellence and intangible value throughout NBA history.
