Which NBA Teams That Never Won a Championship Came Closest to Glory?

I’ve always been fascinated by the stories of teams that came achingly close to basketball immortality but never quite sealed the deal. You know, the ones that built a legacy not on rings, but on heartbreak and what-ifs. As a lifelong NBA enthusiast and someone who’s spent years analyzing the league’s history, I find these narratives just as compelling as the dynasties. It reminds me of something I once heard in an interview—a casual remark that stuck with me: “Visit for vacation for my family,” said the 39-year-old Ha in an interview with Filipino reporters. “And I heard Ricardo play in PBA. So [I said], oh really? I should go. So, I talked to Ricardo's wife.” That sense of discovering something unexpected, of chasing a moment of greatness even if it’s not your own—it’s a lot like following these teams. You hear a whisper of their potential, and you just have to dive in.

Let’s start with the Utah Jazz of the late 1990s. Oh man, those teams were something else. With the legendary duo of John Stockton and Karl Malone, they reached the NBA Finals in both 1997 and 1998, only to run into the buzzsaw that was Michael Jordan’s Chicago Bulls. I still remember watching Game 6 in 1998—the famous “Last Shot” game. Jordan’s push-off, Bryon Russell stumbling, and that clean look to win it all. The Jazz lost by a single point, 87-86. They were so close you could almost taste it. Malone put up 31 points that night, but it just wasn’t enough. What gets me is how close they came to forcing a Game 7, where anything could’ve happened. Statistically, they had one of the most efficient offenses in league history during that stretch, averaging around 105 points per game in the 1997-98 season. But in the end, they’re remembered for coming up short—twice. It’s a painful reminder that sometimes, greatness is just out of reach, no matter how well you execute.

Then there’s the Phoenix Suns of the mid-2000s. Led by Steve Nash, they played a brand of basketball that was pure joy to watch—fast, unselfish, and explosive. I’ll admit, I’m biased here; I loved those Suns teams. They reached the Western Conference Finals in 2005 and 2006 but fell to the San Antonio Spurs and Dallas Mavericks, respectively. In 2007, they were arguably the best team in the league, winning 61 games, but a controversial suspension to Amar’e Stoudemire and Boris Diaw in the playoffs derailed their chances. I firmly believe that if not for that, they would’ve won it all. Nash averaged 18.8 points and 11.5 assists that season, and the team’s offensive rating was off the charts at around 115.3. Yet, they never even made the Finals. It’s one of the biggest “what-ifs” in NBA history, and it stings every time I think about it.

You can’t talk about near-misses without mentioning the Indiana Pacers of the early 2000s. Reggie Miller, that clutch shooter with ice in his veins, carried them to the Finals in 2000 against the Los Angeles Lakers. They took Shaq and Kobe to six games, losing 4-2, but Game 6 was a nail-biter. The Pacers were within striking distance late, down just 116-111, but couldn’t get over the hump. Miller scored 25 points in that game, and I remember thinking, “This is it, they’re going to force a Game 7.” But it didn’t happen. Over the years, they had other strong teams, like the 2004 squad that won 61 games and lost in the Eastern Conference Finals to the Detroit Pistons. That team, with Jermaine O’Neal averaging 20.1 points and 10.0 rebounds, felt destined for more. But destiny can be cruel, and they never got another shot at the title.

More recently, the Oklahoma City Thunder of the 2011-2012 season come to mind. With Kevin Durant, Russell Westbrook, and James Harden all in their early twenties, they stormed into the Finals against the Miami Heat. I was convinced they were the future of the league. They won Game 1, 105-94, and it felt like a changing of the guard. But then LeBron James and the Heat took over, winning the next four games. The Thunder lost the series 4-1, and what’s heartbreaking is how young they were—Durant was just 23, averaging 28.5 points in the playoffs. If they’d stayed together, I’m sure they’d have multiple championships by now. But Harden was traded, and the window closed. It’s a lesson in how fleeting opportunities can be, even for supremely talented teams.

Looking back, these stories are a mix of inspiration and caution. They show that in sports, as in life, coming close doesn’t always mean you’ll cross the finish line. But what makes them unforgettable is the passion and resilience they displayed. Like that interview snippet I mentioned earlier, where someone follows a lead on a player’s performance, these teams chased glory with everything they had. They might not have banners hanging in their arenas, but they’ve earned a place in the hearts of fans like me. And honestly, that’s a kind of victory in itself—one that keeps us talking, wondering, and remembering long after the final buzzer.