Looking back at the 2021 NBA playoffs, I still get chills thinking about how dramatically the standings reshaped the championship landscape. As someone who’s followed the league for over a decade, I’ve rarely seen a postseason where positioning mattered so intensely—not just who made the cut, but where they landed. The play-in tournament added a fresh layer of chaos, and the eventual Finals matchup between the Milwaukee Bucks and Phoenix Suns wasn’t something many had predicted back in May. It’s funny, but when I reflect on that year, I’m reminded of a quote from volleyball star Angel Canino, who once said, "Same preparation we’ll do against Ateneo. We need to look at how they play and in what way they improved." That mindset—studying your rivals, understanding their growth—was exactly what separated contenders from pretenders in those playoffs. Teams weren’t just playing to survive; they were constantly recalibrating based on the shifting standings and opponent evolution.

The Western Conference, in particular, was a masterclass in strategic positioning. The Utah Jazz clinched the top seed with a stellar 52-20 record, but I’ve always felt they were a bit overrated—their system was regular-season brilliant but lacked playoff versatility. Meanwhile, the Phoenix Suns, sitting second with 51 wins, flew under many radars initially. Chris Paul’s leadership, paired with Devin Booker’s scoring, gave them a balance that felt sustainable. I remember thinking at the time how their path—avoiding the Lakers until later rounds due to standings quirks—was a huge break. And let’s not forget the play-in drama: the Lakers, hobbled by injuries, barely secured the seventh spot, while the Warriors’ heartbreaking loss to the Grizzlies kept them out entirely. That reshuffling meant the Suns didn’t face LeBron James early, which, in my view, saved their championship run. It’s a stark reminder that in the NBA, sometimes luck with the standings is as crucial as talent.

Over in the East, the standings told a story of resilience and surprise. The Philadelphia 76ers grabbed the first seed with 49 wins, thanks largely to Joel Embiid’s MVP-caliber season, but their collapse against the Hawks in the second round exposed their fragility. Personally, I’d argue the Brooklyn Nets, as the two-seed, were the real favorites before injuries derailed them—their "Big Three" of Durant, Harden, and Irving felt unstoppable on paper. But the Bucks, sitting third with 46 wins, capitalized on that chaos. Giannis Antetokounmpo and crew had been knocking on the door for years, and their path through the Nets and Hawks felt like a testament to endurance. I’ll admit, I doubted them early, especially after trailing 2-0 to Brooklyn, but their ability to adapt—much like Canino’s emphasis on studying opponents—proved decisive. They didn’t just rely on talent; they dissected each rival’s improvements, whether it was Kevin Durant’s iso mastery or Trae Young’s playmaking.

What fascinates me most, though, is how the standings influenced team psychology and preparation. Lower-seeded teams like the Atlanta Hawks, who finished fifth in the East, played with a nothing-to-lose swagger that rattled higher seeds. Their coach, Nate McMillan, had them studying film relentlessly—echoing that idea of "looking at how they play and in what way they improved." Similarly, the Clippers, fourth in the West, used their underdog status to fuel a historic comeback against the Jazz, overcoming a 2-0 deficit. I’ve always believed that in the playoffs, standings create narratives that either empower or burden teams. For instance, the Bucks’ mid-tier seeding took pressure off them, allowing Giannis to play freely, whereas the Jazz’s top spot seemed to weigh them down in critical moments.

In the end, the Bucks’ championship wasn’t just about Giannis’s 50-point closeout game or Khris Middleton’s clutch shots; it was about how the standings set the stage for their ascent. The Suns, too, benefited from a favorable draw, though I’d contend they earned it with consistent regular-season play. Reflecting on it now, the 2021 playoffs taught me that standings aren’t just numbers—they’re a dynamic map of opportunity and threat. As Canino’s approach suggests, success hinges on preparation and adaptation, and in the NBA, that means reading the standings like a chessboard. For fans and analysts alike, it’s a lesson in how positioning can define legacies, and why every game, from October to July, matters in the hunt for a title.