Who Made the Cut for Third Team All NBA This Season?
When the All-NBA teams were announced last week, I found myself scrolling through the list with that familiar mix of anticipation and skepticism that comes with being a basketball analyst for over a decade. The first and second teams? Mostly predictable, filled with the usual MVP candidates and franchise cornerstones we’ve been discussing all season. But the Third Team—ah, that’s where the real debate begins, where narratives, late-season surges, and sometimes, sheer team success, can tip the scales. It’s the honor that often sparks the most conversation, the one where a single vote can feel like it carries the weight of an entire career evaluation. This year’s selections were no different, a fascinating blend of established greatness and rewarding persistence, and it got me thinking not just about who made it, but why, and what it says about the league right now.
I have to be honest, seeing Joel Embiid’s name on the Third Team felt a little strange, almost like a consolation prize for a season derailed by injury. When he was on the court, he was a dominant, MVP-level force, putting up numbers that would make any historical big man nod in respect. But the sheer volume of missed games—31, to be precise—created a tricky dilemma for voters, myself included. Do you reward a player for being the most impactful per-minute performer, or do you prioritize the guys who were there night in and night out, carrying the load for 70-plus games? In the end, I think the voters got it right by placing him here. It acknowledges his otherworldly talent—I mean, averaging 34.7 points and 11.0 rebounds on that efficiency is just video game stuff—while also respecting the importance of availability. It’s a compromise, but a fair one. It reminds me of the conversations we had a few years back with Kawhi Leonard, another superstar whose brilliance is sometimes measured in quality over quantity.
On the flip side, you have players like Jalen Brunson and Domantas Sabonis, whose cases were built on an ironman foundation and team success. Brunson, in particular, was a revelation. I’ve been a fan since his Villanova days, but what he did this season, elevating the Knicks into a genuine Eastern Conference threat while averaging a cool 28.7 points and 6.7 assists, was a masterclass in leadership. He didn’t just put up numbers; he controlled the tempo of games in a way that reminded me of a young Chris Paul, albeit with a more explosive scoring punch. Sabonis, meanwhile, was a walking double-double, leading the league in rebounds and orchestrating the Kings' offense from the high post. His consistency is almost boring, in the best way possible. You just know you’re getting 19.4 points, 13.7 rebounds, and 8.2 assists every single night. That kind of reliability is a coach’s dream and, clearly, a voter’s delight.
But for every player celebrating their inclusion, there’s another on the outside looking in, and that’s where the real heart of the debate lies. I was genuinely surprised to see Trae Young left off all three teams. Yes, the Hawks were mediocre, finishing with a 36-46 record, but his individual production—25.7 points and a league-leading 10.8 assists—is historically significant. It’s a tough pill to swallow, and it highlights how team success has become an almost non-negotiable factor for these awards. It’s a standard I’ve wrestled with throughout my career. Do we punish a transcendent individual talent for the failures of his organization? In Young’s case, it seems the answer was yes. Similarly, the omission of Devin Booker, who was spectacular for stretches, shows just how crowded the guard field is right now. It feels like we’re in a golden age for backcourt talent.
This brings me to a broader point about the global nature of the league and how these honors are perceived. While we’re debating the merits of All-NBA slots, players across the world are grinding in other leagues, fighting for recognition on a different scale. I was looking at a box score from the Korean Basketball League the other day, a game where Busan fell to 0-2. A player for them, William Navarro, only logged eight minutes. In that brief stint, his stat line was modest: two points, a single rebound, and one steal. It’s a world away from the bright lights and national TV deals of the NBA, but it’s a reminder of the pyramid of professional basketball. For every player we’re celebrating on the All-NBA teams, there are thousands like Navarro, competing with the same passion, just on a different stage. It adds a layer of perspective to our debates here. The competition for these 15 spots is so fierce that it can define legacies and trigger supermax contract clauses, making the selection process feel as consequential as any individual game.
In the end, the All-NBA teams, especially the Third Team, are a snapshot of a season’s storylines. They reflect not just statistical excellence, but the narratives we, as writers, analysts, and fans, choose to value. This year’s list tells a story of resilience in the face of injury, the reward for unwavering consistency, and the painful reality of a league too talented to honor everyone who deserves it. Looking ahead, the debates will only get louder as young stars like Anthony Edwards and Tyrese Haliburton continue their ascent. For now, we can appreciate the 15 players who made the cut, understanding that their selection is as much a part of NBA history as the games they played to earn it. It’s an imperfect system, but it’s ours, and I wouldn’t have the debates any other way.
