NBA 75: A history lesson on defense and ranking the 25 best defenders of all time (2024)

Welcome to theNBA 75,The Athletic’s countdown ofthe 75 best players in NBA history, in honor of the league’s diamond anniversary. We also will run features such as this one to complement certain players and moments throughout our series.

How do you measure the absence of something?

That, at heart, is the problem with evaluating defense in virtually any sport. While we can tell relatively quickly what happened at the team level — the other team didn’t score — assigning individual credit for those instances is usually much more difficult.

In rare instances it’s easy — Tayshaun Prince deserves the lion’s share of the credit for this stop by the Pistons, for instance — but the vast majority of NBA defense is about stuff that doesn’t happen. It’s mostly about the shot the other team didn’t take, or the guy who was denied receiving the ball in his favorite spot, or the post player pushed two feet further from the basket.

I got a firsthand look at how this works with the grit-and-grind Grizzlies when I worked in their front office. On the perimeter, we had Tony Allen, who might be the best player I’ve ever seen at denying a player the ball. And behind him, we had Marc Gasol, who was the absolute master of the subtle slide, the split-second positioning, putting out fires before they ever got started. We think of dominant defense as blocking shots at the top of the square or picking a dribble at midcourt, but more often than not it’s the absence of openings, the inability to catch the ball, the play call that goes nowhere because the big on the weak side reads it a beat early.

Take these two play clips, for instance, both of which end in the same result — a missed Patrick Beverley 3-pointer from the right corner. How we get there and the quality of the resulting shot is radically different, however.

Here’s the first one, late in a tight game in Houston:

The box score simply reports that Beverley just missed a shot from the corner. The closest defender was Mike Conley, but he probably wasn’t close enough that you’d give him credit for “forcing” the miss. Houston got a wide-open 3 on this play.

And yet … the Grizzlies took away several options just by not screwing up and not overreacting. At the start, a double-drag for Beverley draws spectacular disinterest from the Memphis defense, as Courtney Lee nonchalantly goes under and Gasol doesn’t even bother hedging. Recognizing a non-threat is as important as reacting quickly to real ones.

There is an emergency on the left side, however, as the smaller Conley has picked up James Harden on a transition switch, and Harden has him on the left block.

Fortunately, Gasol and Lee see what’s happening and execute a perfect scram switch (which Gasol likely called out) while the ball is still in the air. (If you’re looking for Allen, he was injured for this game). For good measure, Gasol leaves Dwight Howard just long enough to tag Beverley and slow his cut, cleansing himself on defensive 3 seconds. Zach Randolph has the far less threatening Terrence Jones to collapse on Harden’s drive and force a kick out; Conley shades Jones to pass to the corner but can’t quite get a hand on the pass.

Memphis did lots of good stuff … but still gave up an open corner shot to a guy who shot 36.1 percent 3-point from 3 that season. Then the evil refs called a foul on Gasol even though Howard shoved him first.

You’ll find another “Beverley 3-point corner miss” on the last play of the game.

Notably, the box score just reports that Beverley missed a shot at the buzzer. Conley was the closest defender, so if you were trying to assign credit based on “forcing” a miss you might focus on him. Indeed, Conley got in his space and made a nice contest.

But all the action happened on the other side of the court. There’s an initial pick-and-roll that might have been dummy action but had to be respected; Gasol hangs just close enough to the dribbler to allow James Johnson to recover and knows that since Johnson that season was the king of blocking 3-point shots he could get back to Howard quickly.

Courtney Lee denied a wing catch for Harden, but — aha! — Houston may have planned for us to deny it and set up a play for Harden to back cut (indeed, this play may be the hardest off-ball cut Harden has made at any point in the last 10 seasons).

Fortunately, two other defenders see what’s happening. First, there’s a quick slide by Prince — theoretically assigned to Jeremy Lin in the corner, but already tagging Howard’s role and waiting to hand him back to the retreating Gasol — and then Gasol peels off his return to Howard when he sees Harden scampering through the lane. With plans A through C gone (and Johnson close enough to make a crosscourt laser to Lin in the corner exceedingly difficult), the only option left was a Beverley heave from the corner.

Go back through both of these plays, and the most notable stuff was the things that didn’t happen — on the first play, Beverley didn’t get any openings on his double drag, and Harden didn’t get a mismatch against Conley. On the second, Howard’s roll wasn’t open on the initial screen, and Harden’s back cut was off by two help defenders.

That, then, is the nature of the challenge in discussing defense.

It’s basketball’s version of “Seinfeld.” It’s a show about nothing, a discourse on events that didn’t happen. The flashy stuff of defense — chase-down blocks, open-court steals and the like — are a vanishingly small percentage of the overall number of plays a team defends and the correlation of these events to overall defensive success can be frustratingly small.

Even as advanced stats continue to evolve and nudge us in the right directions, the evaluation of defense is, to a greater extent than any other facet of the game, still heavily dependent on the good ol’ eye test. This is why you need a numbers guy to tell you who the best players were. (Wait, what?)

In all seriousness, as I endeavor on what is likely a foolish errand whose best-case scenario is me getting flamed by Kobe Truthers in the comments, keep two things in mind:

1. There have been a lot of great defenders in our game’s history, and I can’t possibly talk about all of them; even talking about a small handful of them will entail more of a summary than a long-winded exposition of their Absolute True and Final Value.

2. This is all, by necessity, opinion. Opinion informed by facts and video and stats and research and 40-year-old memories of a kid in New Jersey watching Bobby Jones guard Larry Bird on standard-def TV via an antenna, but an opinion nonetheless.

In the beginning, there were the centers. For much of the NBA’s history rating defensive players was easier because so much of defense was just stationing the biggest dude on the court under the basket. Even as the 3-point era came along and the game evolved, the most impactful defenders in league annals were virtually all centers or “forwards” like Kevin Garnett and Tim Duncan who happened to be seven feet tall.

There were two dominant defenders in the 1950s and ’60s: Bill Russell and Wilt Chamberlain. Not that there weren’t some perimeter players in this era who could get it done (K.C. Jones, for instance, or Walt Frazier or Jerry West). But with offenses designed to play through the post and attack mismatches, and the concept of stretch bigs still either in the womb or very much in its infancy, having a giant who could block shots and guard post-ups guaranteed an awesome defense right up until the mid-’90s.

In the case of the league’s earliest days, we don’t have the exact statistical picture, not even relative to the gray shades now available to us. Even the team-level stats from half a century ago aren’t that great.

But we have enough circ*mstantial evidence to underscore the fact that Russell is an all-time great defender. Any analysis, no matter how ham-handed, would have to include that Russell impacted his team’s defensive results like no other player in history.

Based on the data we can pull together, for instance, (kudos to basketball-reference.com’s work), Russell’s Celtics ranked sixth in defense out of eight teams in the NBA the year before he arrived, and finished eighth out of 14 teams the season after he retired.

And in between, they were first in Defensive Rating for 11 straight seasons and 12 out of 13. They weren’t just squeaking by, either,often finishing multiple standard deviations ahead of second place. In 1961-62, for instance, the difference between Russell’s Celtics and second-place Syracuse was bigger than the difference between Syracuse and last-place St. Louis.

Thanks to the wonders of YouTube we now have more access to grainy tape of Russell kicking butt (Oh, hi, Jerry West, you weren’t thinking this was an open pull-up, were you?), and it is an impressive collection. If you want to geek out, you might consider starting here with Ben Taylor’s curated collection of his greatest hits.

Needless to say, even half a century later, any discussion of great defenders begins with Russell.

Russell’s dominance was part of a larger dynamic, though. For four straight years at the end of the 1960s, for instance, the top 3 defenses belonged to Russell’s team, Chamberlain’s team and Nate Thurmond’s team.

During the half-decade that followed, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar’s Milwaukee teams were either first or second by percentage points in the defensive standings; their rivals for that spot were Willis Reed’s Knicks, Chamberlain’s Lakers and the Wes Unseld-Elvin Hayes Bullets. Guards were nice, but defensively, your bigs determined your fate.

By the mid-’70s it was still very much a big man’s game, but it had evolved to the perimeter enough that we get our first glimpse at truly needle-moving perimeter defenders. As we got into the Larry Bird-Magic Johnson-Julius Erving era of wing athletes with size and skill, teams needed perimeter defenders to match up against these talents. Everybody good team had a defensive stopper: The Lakers had Michael Cooper, Milwaukee had Paul Pressey, Denver had T.R. Dunn and Houston had Rodney McCray.

However, three players from this era stand out: Dennis Johnson, Bobby Jones and Sidney Moncrief.

Across multiple teams and different lineup iterations, Jones and Johnson each guaranteed a top-notch defense for their employer. Contemporaries agreed, voting both to nine NBA All-Defensive teams. For five straight seasons from 1978-79 to 1982-83, they both were first-team choices.

(I should note here that All-Defensive votes are an extremely imperfect way of comparing historical greatness. Without saying names, let’s just say some players have been voted on because they were famous and played in a big market. Jones, Johnson and Cooper played for the only three teams that ever got on national TV in the 1980s and thus likely benefited heavily from this as well. However, Jones and Johnson were tabbed as first-teamers even while playing in flyover country before moving to glamour markets).

Johnson played nine straight years in a top-5 defense and repped the top outfit four times in three different places, going from Seattle to Phoenix to Boston. His Seattle team lead the league in defensive rating in 1980 while Phoenix finished fifth; his Phoenix team led it in 1981 while Seattle fell to 10th. When he went from Phoenix to Boston in 1983-84 the Suns fell from 3rd to 13th, while Boston rose from 7th to 3rd.

Similarly, Jones’ Nuggets had the best defense in the NBA as a fresh ABA import in 1976-77; he went to Philly and they finished first, first and second his first three seasons there despite lacking a dominant big man.

(While we’re in this era and talking about defense: Can we get a shoutout to Larry Brown for somehow leadingthis roster to the league’s top defense in 1983 and then, as only Brown could do, bailing the last week of the season to take the Kansas job).

Moncrief, meanwhile, won the league’s first two NBA Defensive Player of the Year awards — quite a statement for a small player in a small market — and, along with Pressey, helped a Milwaukee team not overloaded with interior defenders to a second-place ranking in defense for three straight years.

If there’s a fourth perimeter ace from this era to discuss, it would have to be Cooper. His prime didn’t burn quite as long and some of his impact numbers weren’t quite as impressive, but he guarded Bird as well as anybody (we’re now into the generation of players that I saw play) and he made eight NBA All-Defensive teams. While the Magic-era Lakers were mostly offense-driven teams — they were first or second nine times in 10 years — Cooper was unquestionably an elite on-ball defender.

What’s interesting is that all four players had good but not exactly amazing steals and blocks numbers; you had to dig more deeply to see their impact. Fortunately, around this time, we start getting slightly better-advanced stats. Jones, in particular, stands out when one looks at career defensive BPM leaders.

But hang on.

Only a decade after perimeter defenders start getting their due and Magic and Bird introduce a nation to the beautiful game, we get into the league’s tug-and-grab, beast ball era. The Bad Boys. Riley’s Knicks. 72-65 playoff games. Malice at the Palace.

The span from 1990 to 2005 contained many assorted slights to the sanctity of the game, but this was a glorious era for defense. In particular, a certain type of defense. With the pace slowed to a crawl and physicality at a premium, size and power mattered much more than quickness.

Not surprisingly, this was also the most notable big man era in league annals. While the 1950s and ’60s gave us Russell vs. Chamberlain, the ’90s gave us Olajuwon vs. Robinson vs. Ewing vs. Mourning vs. Mutombo vs. Eaton, and then right when we exhaled, Round 2 came along with Shaq vs. Duncan. There were so many good defensive centers in that era that Ewing only made three NBA All-Defensive teams, even as the linchpin of a Knicks team that annually ranked near the top of the league in defense.

As ever, rim protectors were among the most valuable defenders, and we had some great ones. Eaton ushered it in, an immovable 7-foot-4 mountain perfectly situated for an era of slowing tempo and big guys playing near the basket. A fourth-round pick, Eaton won NBA Defensive Player of the Year twice and unofficially shattered the league record for shots blocked without jumping. Countless times, he’d just stretch his arms up vertically and watch a guard shoot the ball right into them.

He also offered the first hint of what was to come in the NBA, when Golden State coach Don Nelson countered his size in the 1989 playoffs by playing five perimeter players in a playoffs series and forcing Eaton to chase them; the Warriors won in a sweep. We’ll see this movie again further down the road.

The finger-wagging Dikembe Mutombo was the next incarnation of this archetype and overall probably the best of them as a defender across any era. He entered the league as a 25-year-old rookie (put that in your draft model, nerds), led the league in blocks three times and won NBA Defensive Value of the Year four times. Mutombo was good enough as a rim protector that he played regular minutes until a career-ending knee injury at age 42, even though he had no offensive value for the final seven years of his career.

But the Eaton-Mutombo archetype was never quite as valuable as the mobile rim protectors of the same era, of which we were granted two jaw-dropping talents in the same state at the same time in the form of Hakeem Olajuwon and David Robinson.

Robinson gets short shrift in the discussion of great defenders largely based on two playoff series — a whirling, reverse-pivoting pantsing at the hands of Olajuwon in the 1995 Western Conference finals and an overwhelming physical destruction by a prime Shaquille O’Neal in the 2001 Western Conference playoffs when Robinson was 35. (Indeed, Mutombo held up much better against Shaq in those same playoffs).

Those two series are part of his record, but let’s not get carried away. Robinson was an awesome all-court defender who would have been even more dominant in the current era than the ones in which he played. He had the speed and mobility to cover smaller players on the perimeter and the size and shot-blocking ability to make the middle a no-fly zone. He did struggle with physicality at times (Hi, Shaq), but his impact stats are completely crazy; he has the highest defensive BPM rating in history, for instance. Seven years before Duncan arrived, Robinson’s Spurs led the league in defensive efficiency in 1990-91, and he also won NBA Defensive Player of the Year in 1992.

And then there is Olajuwon, who for my money is the most underrated defensive player of all time. If anything, he suffered from playing in the 1990s maul ball era rather than the current one, where he’d be effortlessly floating along the perimeter tracking guards, periodically picking their dribble with his frog-tongue hands or gently swatting away their misguided attempts at taking him to the rim. One of my prime childhood memories is of an otherwise overmatched Rockets team playing Boston in the 1986 NBA Finals-clinching Game 6. In the first quarter, Olajuwon stole the ball three straight times for breakaway buckets. (Go to the 25-minute mark to see for yourself).

Olajuwon would make you cackle with the stuff he did; I wish teams switched more back then because he had crazy hands that pilfered embarrassed guards. Despite playing center full time, he finished in the top 12 in steals five straight seasons from 1987-88 to 1991-92. In short, he was amazing. If you don’t want to see a full NBA Finals game, at least watch him defend the entire Bulls team for 10 seconds.

On a team level, the Rockets’ 1994 champions, which in terms of historical impact consisted of Hakeem and some guys, ranked second in defensive efficiency; previous editions finished third, second, first, fourth, fourth and third. Olajuwon never played with another great player until the late-model version of Clyde Drexler arrived in the spring of 1995, and he only played with one other All-Star caliber player (Ralph Sampson) for any length of time in his prime; we might esteem his career more if he had.

Four non-centers from that area also warrant mentioning in any discussion of all-time great defenders. Three of them played on the same team.

The Chicago Bulls from 1996 to 1998 might be the greatest defensive juggernaut in league annals even though they offered very little in the way of a traditional rim-protecting big man. They didn’t need it with three holy terrors at the 2 through 4 spots in Michael Jordan, Scottie Pippen and Dennis Rodman.

Jordan gets the most acclaim of the three, and the locked-in version of him in key moments was something to behold. However, his offensive load did force him to pick his spots at times, whereas Pippen could terrorize opponents with his length and mobility all game long. (Jordan also gambled a lot. No, I mean on the court.)

Again, it’s unfortunate that Pippen in particular couldn’t play in the current era rather than in the super-macho 1990s, where his ability to play passing lanes and gobble up acres of court would be even more of a weapon against today’s spread offenses. He also excelled at harassing opposing point guards with full-court pressure, even if they were much smaller. Even those who survived the experience were often forced to dribble ass-first up the court and chew up valuable time off of the shot clock.

The best case for Pippen is the 1993-94 and 1994-95 Bulls, who had neither Jordan nor Rodman but finished second in defensive efficiency while Pippen led the league in steals. Pippen never won DPOY, but he made 10 NBA All-Defensive squads including eight first-team selections. He outranks Jordan in career Defensive Win Shares, believe it or not, and his 4.0 Steal Rate in those two non-Jordan seasons were the highest ever for a player 6-8 or higher, by miles and miles. (It is a looooong scroll down before you get to George Lynch).

As for Rodman, he was awesome when the moment demanded, especially when he could lock horns against a big forward; his work on Karl Malone in successive NBA Finals stood out, but a younger Rodman also was entrusted with guarding Bird in key moments for the Bad Boy Pistons, where he won consecutive NBA Defensive Player of the Year trophies. Rodman quite obviously is the greatest rebounder ever, as I’ve already discussed, and that added more value on the defensive side, but in the second half of his career, he also would hurt himself at times with his reluctance to contest on the perimeter … leaving him too far from his desired board.

That misgiving aside, no list of great defensive players is even remotely complete without The Worm; he was a key element of two different suffocating, dominant defensive squads. Interestingly, the numbers are all over the place on him. Despite superior mobility for his size, he did not compile high rates of “stocks.” For instance, Rodman, who was so flamboyant in other respects, played a very fundamental brand of defense, preferring to keep players in front and contest late.

Finally, we get to one of the few point guards who had enough defensive impact to warrant mention in this discussion: Gary Payton. “The Glove” was a trash-talking pest who had size, wiry strength for the “arm-bar era”, and great hands, making his ball pressure particularly effective on a Seattle team that loved to trap and press. Payton made nine straight NBA All-Defensive teams and was the 1996 Defensive Player of the Year with his Sonics squads finishing in the top three in defense three times.

Some of this was perhaps a bit too reputation-based toward the end (he made first-team All-Defensive while captaining teams that were 26th and 24th in defensive efficiency in 1999 and 2001), but the mid-1990s version of Payton was the perfect mix of player and era. (While we’re here, a brief shoutout to Payton’s teammate Nate McMillan, who posted the highest steal rate in league history for that 1993-94 Sonics squad).

As the century turned we reached the nadir of the beast-ball era, with defenses miles ahead of offenses and physicality gone wild on the perimeter. Perhaps the defining player of that era is Ron Artest, now known as Metta Sandiford-Artest, who at 6-7, 260 pounds nonetheless posted the highest steal rate of the last quarter-century in 2001-02. Artest became famous for many other things, but as a defender, he had superhuman strength, surprisingly quick feet and great hands, and as a result, this era was a perfect time for him. He won the 2004 NBA Defensive Player of the Year award but only made four All-Defensive teams, mostly because he was so often injured or suspended.

Not surprisingly, bigs again ruled the defensive terrain. But as teams began to open the floor, the terrain began to subtly shift toward mobile bigs who could toggle between frontcourt positions. In particular, three players dominated the defense discussion in this era: Garnett, Tim Duncan and Ben Wallace.

Duncan was the successor to Robinson in the middle but started his career with a six-year stint where played power forward while paired with Robinson to form the league’s most dominant defensive frontcourt in memory. Even with a post-back-surgery Robinson, that team won two championships and finished in the top three in defensive efficiency six straight years, ranking first three times. Even after Robinson retired, Duncan led the Spurs to the league’s top defensive rating the next three years, and San Antonio landed in the top three five other times.

Duncan’s calling card was, of course, his unspectacular play. He didn’t talk trash, foam at the mouth or bang his head on things like Garnett, but his endless arms and surprisingly nimble feet (especially early in his career) let him check much smaller players and still protect the rim.

Duncan also virtually never made mistakes, true to his name as “The Big Fundamental,” while specializing in tippy-toe blocked shots at the point of release rather than skying to swat shots at their apex. He never won NBA Defensive Player of the Year but made the All-Defensive team an amazing 15 times (the most in history, by far), including eight first-team selections. He even garnered a second-team selection as a 38-year-old in 2015.

I’ll note that those Spurs teams in the aughts also featured Bruce Bowen, a perimeter stopper with a penchant for low-bridging jump shooters (which was quasi-legal then) who nonetheless was the classic “low-stocks” perimeter defender — his specialty was denying your specialty, and he could be especially aggressive on the perimeter knowing that Duncan was behind him. Bowen was NBA All-Defensive First Team five straight times with San Antonio. Paired with Duncan, they led the league in defense in four of those seasons.

And then there’s Garnett. The snarling, menacing, “6-11” forward was too slight to be a physical force, but as the Mike D’Antonis of the league rescued the game from itself and spawned imitators, the Garnetts of the world became increasingly valuable. His combination of length and mobility allowed him to be in five places at once, it seemed, especially when he defended actions at the top of the key and would fly in for the defensive board. While he didn’t have the extended run of one-team awesomeness that Duncan enjoyed, one can argue the peak version of the Garnett experience was the most breathtaking thing the league has seen on this end of the floor since Olajuwon.

Garnett made 12 NBA All-Defensive teams and won a Defensive Player of her Year award, but that still doesn’t do justice to his impact. The younger Garnett in Minnesota was a freak perimeter defender who could comfortably check smaller players. He moved to a more traditional frontcourt role in Boston and might have been even better. His 2008 Celtics team was an all-time great defensive squad that finished a staggering 8.6 points per 100 better than the league average, and his teams had three more top-two finishes in Boston.

Finally, Wallace is an interesting study, a “center” who was listed at 6-9 and might have been a couple of inches shorter, and an undrafted player who was on the end of Washington’s bench for three years and eventually become a throw-in to the Grant Hill sign-and-trade.

Once he was unleashed as a rim-running, shot-blocking force in the middle, however, few have ever defended with more ferocity. He had a relatively short six-year prime in Detroit … but one that had him at the centerpiece of one of the dominant defensive teams ever. Detroit’s 2004 championship squad was suffocating, with Wallace guarding Shaquille O’Neal one-on-one in the NBA Finals and yet still barricading the rim against other Laker drives. The scores from that series are almost unfathomable; L.A. had prime Shaq and Kobe and was held to 80 or fewer points three times in five games.

How you feel about him in the pantheon of defensive greatness largely hinges on the quality vs. quantity argument, but the peak version of Wallace was as dominant as any player on this list. He won NBA Defensive Player of the Year four times in five years and finished a close second the other year, with Detroit finishing second, third, fourth and fifth in defensive efficiency in those seasons.

While the mobile bigs were the dominant feature of this era, there is one great point guard defender to discuss: Jason Kidd. At 6-4 with a strong frame, he had the size to guard bigger players and often did, even against elite wings. But Kidd’s real specialty was cat-and-mouse games off the ball. Few have ever been better at pestering a post player without double-teaming him, but being just enough of a pain to make him miserable. Kidd also specialized in two-handed steals, ripping the ball away from shocked players in one motion.

A good example of Kidd’s value was his trade from Phoenix to New Jersey. The Suns went from second in defense to 12th, while the Nets went from 23rd to first and made the NBA Finals. Kidd was relegated to the second-team All-Defensive for five of his nine selections, but some of these votes are dubious in retrospect (Larry Hughes!). Even well after his peak, he went to Dallas and was a major defensive force on a championship team in 2011. Kidd also ranks 12th all time in Defensive Win Shares, the highest of any perimeter player.

That finally takes us to our modern era. Even in the last decade, however, we’ve seen the game change, thanks to a proliferation of small ball and stretch 5s. Remember how Golden State tried to pull Eaton away from the hoop in the late 1980s? Well, we got a modern version of that in 2014 as an underdog Atlanta team realized that Indiana’s rim-protecting defensive ace, the massive 7-2 Roy Hibbert, couldn’t hang if his man stayed at the 3-point line. The idea quickly caught on. Hibbert was an absolute master of verticality who nearly helped the Pacers knock out a team with James and Dwyane Wade and finished second in the 2014 NBA Defensive Player of the Year voting. But within two years he’d be unplayable.

Instead, the spirit animal for this era is Draymond Green, a 6-7 forward with the strength and length to play center in “small” lineups but the mobility, hands and IQ to switch on any player 1 through 5. It’s harder to evaluate careers in mid-stream, but it’s safe to say Green will go down as one of the all-time great defenders, and certainly one of the smartest ever. His current tally stands at six NBA All-Defensive selections and one Defensive Player of the Year award, but he’ll surely add to that. Green led the league defensive BPM twice and is leading again this season, while his career mark ranks third all time.

The other “mobile quasi-center” of this era who warrants discussion is Giannis Antetokounmpo. Again, we’re evaluating now so it’s harder, but Giannis’s numbers from the past four seasons are ridiculous: two straight seasons leading the league in defensive BPM, an NBA Defensive Player of the Year trophy, an epic blocked shot in the 2021 NBA Finals and an eye test that shows this ain’t the dude you want to go after. As with Green, his ability to toggle between small-ball 5 and power forward adds significant value.

Nonetheless, even in this era, rim protectors are the most valuable defenders … as long as they can also move on the perimeter. One stands out, for his ability to shine as a traditional rim protector while showing the mobility to play in the modern game: Rudy Gobert. A three-time NBA Defensive Player of the Year winner and Green’s probable rival for the award this season, Gobert has the eighth-highest block rate of all time even while playing in an era where centers are routinely pulled 30 feet from the hoop. Thanks to our more detailed stats of the last decade or so in particular, we have a very strong circ*mstantial case that Gobert and Green have been a cut above everyone else as dominating defenders.

Despite a relatively short peak, the other big rim protector we shouldn’t overlook here is Dwight Howard, who won three straight NBA Defensive Player of the Year awards as the centerpiece of a defense that led the league in efficiency in 2009 and finished third the next two years.

Finally, it’s easy to forget that even a decade ago switching was far less common, and teams would often put their best defender on an island against an opponent’s elite scorer. We, of course, did this with Tony Allen, who managed to make six All-Defensive squads despite a series of injuries (he only played 70 games in a season five times) and was a key part of two different great defenses — first with Garnett in Boston, and then with us in Memphis, where he teamed with 2013 Defensive Player of the Year Marc Gasol. Gasol was an interesting combination; he wasn’t a traditional above-the-rim shot-blocker, but was an awesome low-post defender and a high IQ pick-and-roll defender with just enough mobility to hedge and recover.

Allen might be the best I’ve ever seen at chasing players through screens, but on the ball the standout defender from this era has to be The Claw. Kawhi Leonard had length, feet, strength and tenacity, plus giant vise-grip hands that ripped the ball away from fools with robotic efficiency.

All that puts Leonard 14th on the career defensive BPM leader board, the highest of any non-center, despite a series of injuries; he has also defended MVP caliber players in playoff settings with great success. Leonard won NBA Defensive Player of the Year twice, but has only two seasons where he played more than 66 games and only 178 over the past five seasons; one hopes we’ll see him back on the court more regularly.

All of which leaves one player I haven’t talked about yet. Yes, LeBron. He’s a difficult player to rate in the traditional sense, as he’s often been in chill mode in the regular season before unleashing holy terror in the playoffs and thus has a more limited award résumé (five first-team selections, no DPOY trophies) than you might think. Certainly, his portf0lio of chase-down blocks is second to none, highlighted, of course, by the championship-saving swat on Andre Iguodala in 2016.

While he’s certainly the greatest player of the current century, and his sheer career length has him as an all-timer in career win shares, his peak-season defensive résumé is somewhat light compared to the likes of Gobert, Leonard, Antetokounmpo and Green; I’d categorize him closer to Jordan as a peak “big moment” defender.

So after all that, only a fool would try to rank the top 25 defensive players in history.

I am that fool.

Here’s one man’s undoubtedly flawed assessment of the top 25 defenders in league annals:

1. Bill Russell
2. Hakeem Olajuwon
3. Tim Duncan
4. Kevin Garnett
5. Rudy Gobert
6. Scottie Pippen
7. Draymond Green
8. David Robinson
9. Ben Wallace
10. Kareem Abdul-Jabbar
11. Dennis Rodman
12. Bobby Jones
13. Jason Kidd
14. Wilt Chamberlain
15. Kawhi Leonard
16. Giannis Antetokounmpo
17. Michael Jordan
18. LeBron James
19. Dikembe Mutombo
20. Sidney Moncrief
21. Dennis Johnson
22. Dwight Howard
23. Gary Payton
24. Bruce Bowen
25. (tie) Marc Gasol and Tony Allen

Related reading

• Krawczynski: At No. 17, Kevin Garnett put Timberwolves on NBA map and restored Celtics to glory
• Kamrani: At No. 20, David Robinson used speed, power, grace to set the Spurs on a course for greatness
• Nehm: At No. 24, Giannis Antetokounmpo has become one of the game’s most decorated players in less than a decade
• Greenberg: At No. 32, Scottie Pippen’s journey to becoming one of the NBA’s best all-around players wasn’t easy
• Murray:At No. 34, Kawhi Leonard’s hard work and singular focus has made him an all-time great
• Koreen: At No. 36, Jason Kidd used his vision and creativity to become an elite point guard
• Harper: At No. 48, Gary Payton backed up his intense and vociferous trash talk with historic defensive play
• Katz: At No. 56, Dwight Howard has the stats, accolades … and the haters

(Illustration: Wes McCabe / The Athletic; Rocky Widner / NBAE via Getty Images)