This week, we saw a monumental basketball record broken when the Golden State Warriors won their 73rd regular season NBA game, passing the previous best set by the ‘95-96 Chicago Bulls, who had 72 wins. While many will argue that Golden State will need to win a championship ring this year to truly cement themselves in history, I think that’s a little unnecessary.
Golden State is a historical team, there’s no denying that. They beat an admittedly wounded Cleveland team last year, despite LeBron James’ impressive efforts to stop them. The Warriors then went on to win 24 games in a row, which is the third longest winning streak of all time. Their star player and reigning MVP, Stephen Curry, also dropped 400 three-pointers this season. To give some perspective, nobody else in league history has ever surpassed 300 three-pointers.
History is made every time the Warriors get on the court, and this dominance got me thinking about the value of idols and records in sports in general. Where would Tiger be if we weren’t chasing Jack Nicklaus? Kobe if he wasn’t chasing Michael Jordan? These athletes have laid down such legacies that they inspired an entirely new wave of competitors to chase the throne they built.
Records are always a controversial topic because they can sometimes be arbitrary. Take James Harden, star of the Houston Rockets, for example. He consistently holds one of the top spots for turnovers, yet Houston has still made NBA playoffs every year since 2013, Harden’s first year on the team. Similarly, Peyton Manning had a historically bad year as the 2015 quarterback for the Denver Broncos, while Cam Newton broke records and danced his way to NFL MVP. One of these players won the Super Bowl. The other is the MVP.
The record books are fine to look at from time to time, and in baseball in particular, they can be extremely telling. However, there’s more to the games we love than just crunching numbers. These are real people, real human beings achieving athletic feats most wouldn’t dream possible. Records aside, when turnover-king James Harden comes into the paint, you have to foul him because he’s a threat. When Peyton Manning takes the snap, he can still pick defenses apart, even in a rough season.
These athletes have that “What If” factor, that ability to make something happen out of nothing that their opponents must have to respect. It’s this trait that makes even the best pitcher think twice when Mike Trout or Bryce Harper steps up to bat. It’s the same reason “Revis Island” exists. If you throw the football to Jets’ player Darrelle Revis, he’s going to make you pay.
Fans know when there’s something special about a player, even before they become a superstar. We knew LeBron would be great. We knew Cam would be a star. We knew Bryce Harper would terrify pitchers. These athletes have an air surrounding them that just seems to exude greatness.
Ultimately though, all of these stars came up from somewhere. They were all watching players like Michael Jordan, Brett Favre and Ken Griffey Jr. as they grew up, just as those guys watched the record holders and legends that played when they were kids.
I believe that’s why we hold on to records, why they seem to matter so much. It’s a numerical testament to what a player has done, and represents the people they’ve inspired and the crowds they’ve made watch in awe.
Records are made to be broken, achievements made to be outdone, but they aren’t made to be forgotten. Kobe Bryant might be leaving the NBA, but those who watched him put up 81 points in 2009 won’t easily forget that game. The Patriots may not have made it to 18-0 back in the ‘07-‘08 season, but fans won’t forget the rush of their team winning 17 games in a row, nonetheless. On the flip side of the coin, Giants’ fans certainly won’t forget the feeling of handing the Pats their one loss of the year in the 2008 Superbowl.
These feelings are what keep us fans invested in records. I wasn’t able to see the ‘95-96 Bulls rampage through the NBA, but as I watched Golden State win 73 games on the edge of my seat, I knew it was history in the making. When my Dallas Mavericks beat the Miami Heat in 2011 to win their first championship, I was electrified with joy.
Those are why the records, the achievements, and the big games really matter. Not for the paycheck the stars take home or the revenue the owners pocket. Monetary wins like that can’t compare to the overwhelming feelings big wins inspire in a team’s fans. So long live the records, and death to the records. Fans are what keep the lights on in the stadiums of the NBA, NFL, MLB and every other league around the world. It’s love of the game that keeps our games going.
