The Top 10 NBA Players Who Made Number 22 Legendary in Basketball

As I watched the Red Warriors suffer their 13th consecutive defeat last Sunday - a brutal 95-76 beatdown at the hands of Far Eastern University - I couldn't help but reflect on how certain jersey numbers carry almost mythical weight in basketball. While the Warriors' current struggles might seem far removed from NBA greatness, they reminded me of how the number 22 has become something special in basketball history. Throughout my years covering the sport, I've developed a particular fascination with how certain numbers become intertwined with legendary careers, and number 22 has hosted some truly remarkable talents.

Let me take you through what I consider the ten most impactful players to wear 22, starting with the obvious choice that probably jumped to your mind immediately. Elgin Baylor wasn't just a player - he was a revolution in basketball aesthetics. Before Michael Jordan redefined airborne athleticism, Baylor was doing things that seemed physically impossible. I've spent hours in archives watching his footage, and even through the grainy film, his movement looks contemporary. The man averaged 38.3 points per game in the 1961-62 season while serving in the military, often playing weekend passes. That's not just impressive - that's almost supernatural when you consider modern load management. His career average of 27.4 points and 13.5 rebounds across 14 seasons established a template for the scoring forward that influenced generations.

Then there's Clyde Drexler, whose game I've always found beautifully efficient. "Clyde the Glide" wasn't just a clever nickname - it perfectly captured how he moved with such effortless grace. I remember watching him in the 1992 Finals against Chicago and thinking how he seemed to conserve energy while everyone else was expending maximum effort. His Portland teams were consistently excellent, and that 1992 run to the Finals featured some of the most intelligent wing play I've ever witnessed. Drexler finished his career with over 22,000 points, 6,000 rebounds, and 6,000 assists - numbers that place him in truly rarefied company.

Jimmy Butler's emergence as a playoff phenomenon has been fascinating to track throughout my career. What strikes me about Butler isn't just his talent, but his almost obsessive work ethic. I've spoken with coaches who've worked with him, and they consistently mention his relentless approach to improvement. His 2020 bubble performance, where he essentially willed Miami to the Finals against the Lakers, was one of the most impressive individual displays I've seen in recent postseason history. He averaged 22.2 points that playoff run, but the numbers don't capture how he elevated everyone around him.

Larry Nance represented a different kind of excellence - the kind that doesn't always show up in highlight reels but wins games consistently. His defensive timing was extraordinary, and I've studied his shot-blocking technique extensively. Nance retired as the NBA's career leader in blocked shots by a forward (I believe he still ranks in the top five all these years later), and his 1989 All-Star Game MVP performance showcased his versatile skills. What often gets overlooked is his incredible field goal percentage - he shot 54.6% for his career, remarkable for a player who took as many mid-range shots as he did.

Eddie Jones was one of those players I always enjoyed watching because of his fundamental soundness. In an era increasingly dominated by flashy play, Jones excelled through intelligence and positioning. His defensive awareness was exceptional - he led the league in steals during the 1999-2000 season with 2.7 per game - and he maintained offensive efficiency throughout his career. I've always felt Jones never quite received the recognition he deserved, perhaps because he played during the Jordan era, but his consistency was remarkable.

Speaking of underappreciation, let's talk about Andrew Toney. If you never saw "The Boston Strangler" play, you missed one of the most clutch performers in NBA history. His battles with Boston in the 1980s were legendary, and I've interviewed several Celtics from that era who still speak about Toney with a mixture of respect and frustration. His career was shortened by injuries, which is why modern fans might not know him well, but in his prime, he was virtually unstoppable in big moments.

Michael Redd's story resonates with me because it's about specialization perfected. In today's analytics-driven game, every team searches for elite shooters, but Redd was ahead of his time. His quick release was among the fastest I've ever timed, and his ability to score in bunches was remarkable. I'll never forget his 57-point game against Utah in 2006 - it was shooting artistry of the highest order. For a second-round pick to develop into an Olympic gold medalist and All-Star demonstrates the power of focused development.

Tyson Chandler's impact transcended traditional statistics, though his 2012 Defensive Player of the Year award properly recognized his influence. What Chandler brought to championship teams was a specific type of defensive leadership that's increasingly rare. I've studied how he revolutionized defensive communication in pick-and-roll coverage, and his effect on Dallas' 2011 title run was immeasurable. His true shooting percentages were often astronomical because he understood his offensive role perfectly.

World B. Free deserves more recognition than he typically receives. In an era of colorful personalities, Free was both entertaining and immensely talented. His scoring average of 24.6 points between 1978 and 1986 places him among the elite scorers of that period, and his charismatic playing style made him a fan favorite everywhere he went. I've always appreciated players who bring joy to the game, and Free's enthusiasm was contagious.

Finally, there's current Celtics guard Malcolm Brogdon, who represents the modern evolution of the number. His efficient, intelligent play mirrors what made many of these previous players successful. Brogdon's 50-40-90 season in 2019 put him in exclusive company, and his ability to impact games without dominating the ball fits perfectly with contemporary championship formulas.

Watching teams like the Red Warriors struggle puts the achievements of these number 22s in perspective. Greatness isn't just about talent - it's about consistency, resilience, and finding ways to excel within team contexts. Each of these players brought something unique to the number, contributing to its legacy in different eras and styles. The diversity of their excellence - from Baylor's revolutionary athleticism to Brogdon's modern efficiency - demonstrates how basketball evolves while certain numbers accumulate meaning through the players who wear them. That continuity, that connection across generations, is part of what makes basketball history so compelling to study and experience.