Think you think at this rate and the way he’s going, do you think he can be the best big man ever, or is he? Or does he have no shot, like over Kareem? I don’t know—not over Kareem. It would be hard to crack the top three.

One thing that makes basketball so different from most team sports is this: sometimes one player can grab control of the entire game and make everything revolve around him. We’ve seen it with Michael Jordan, then Kobe Bryant, then LeBron James, and so many other legends. But even with all that greatness, there’s one truth people love to ignore. Jordan needed Scottie Pippen. LeBron needed Dwyane Wade, then Kyrie Irving, then Anthony Davis. Stephen Curry needed Klay Thompson and Draymond Green. Shaquille O’Neal needed Kobe, then later Dwyane Wade. That’s just how the NBA works. No matter how dominant a superstar looks, the path to titles, MVPs, and true greatness usually comes with another All-Star right there beside them.

That has been the pattern for nearly every all-time great. But then there’s Nikola Jokic—and that’s where things get interesting. Jokic is one of the only superstars in modern NBA history where people seriously ask a wild question: how is he doing this without the kind of superstar help most legends had?

Jokic gets compared to Magic Johnson all the time. The passing, the vision, the creativity—it makes sense. But what makes him special goes deeper. He doesn’t dominate with speed or flashy moves. He controls everything by breaking the rhythm of everyone around him. Defenders can’t get comfortable. Teammates get easier shots. The entire floor changes when he’s out there.

He doesn’t even look like he’s trying—no crazy speed, no insane vertical—but somehow he controls the game like Larry Bird once did, with pure skill, anticipation, and decision-making. He scores in every way, involves everyone, and becomes the engine of the team.

That’s what makes Jokic so unusual. He doesn’t just play great—he elevates everything. Add him to a team, and suddenly everything works better, smoother, cleaner. And that’s where comparisons to legends really matter. Jordan dominated, but needed balance from Pippen. LeBron controlled games, but every title came with another elite star. That’s not luck—that’s the formula.

But Jokic breaks that formula. He doesn’t just play with good players—he turns them into better players. Guys who might never be All-Stars suddenly look like stars next to him. That’s rare.

He didn’t just bring a championship to the Denver Nuggets after 47 years—he did it by elevating everything around him. And over the last decade, he hasn’t just been good—he’s been everywhere: points, rebounds, assists, even steals. Top of the league across multiple categories. Not just one.

The only name that even comes close to that kind of all-around control is Kareem Abdul-Jabbar. But even Kareem didn’t dominate across so many areas at once like this. And when you dig into the numbers—PER, BPM, win shares, value over replacement—they all point to the same thing: Jokic isn’t just elite. He’s operating in a different tier.

There’s also a narrative that he doesn’t care—but that’s not true. Watch him closely. He’s engaged, talking, leading, focused on winning. He just doesn’t chase headlines or awards.

That’s why his MVP case has stayed strong year after year—three MVPs, multiple runner-ups, and constant dominance. Even in 2023, many argue he should have won again. Statistically, he was more efficient, more impactful, more complete than anyone else.

And now there’s the 65-game rule, which could limit his chances at awards. It shifts the question from “who is the best?” to “who played enough games?” And that could hurt Jokic—even if he’s clearly the best player on the court.

But here’s the bigger point. Basketball is a team game. Yet Jokic bends that idea. When he’s on the floor, everything runs through him in a way that feels completely unique. He dominates with efficiency, with control, with intelligence—and he’s doing it without the superstar help every other legend had.

That’s why Nikola Jokic is in a lane of his own—and why, even if passing Kareem is still a massive challenge, he’s one of the very few players in history where that conversation is even possible.