When Giannis won the chip he kept saying he “won it the right way” implying he was not on a superteam. I found this rather insulting to his team mates. After all they had got him to the Finals. They were losing to the Hawks with Giannis in the rotation and they got past them easily without him. Khris, Jrue and Brook got it done in every clutch situation, practically handing Giannis the Finals where things were easy.
How can we quantify those Bucks? A good way is plus minus.
No less than seven Bucks’ in the top9 for the whole league! To put that in perspective the Nuggets dominating championship year they only had 4 players in the top9.
And if somebody wants to downplay the importance of plus minus look at how even the super dominant Celtics in their championship run only feature 3 players in the top 9.
When Giannis Antetokounmpo hoisted the Larry O’Brien Trophy in 2021, he didn’t just celebrate a championship—he seized the moment to craft a narrative that’s since become gospel among his admirers. “I could’ve gone to a superteam,” he famously declared, “but this is the hard way to do it, and we did it.” The implication was clear: Giannis, the loyal superstar, stuck it out with the small-market Milwaukee Bucks, eschewing the easy path of joining forces with other elite players to chase a ring. It’s a compelling story—one of grit, perseverance, and doing things “the right way.” But here’s the inconvenient truth: the 2021 Bucks were a superteam, and Giannis’ repeated insistence otherwise not only undersells his teammates but smacks of ingratitude toward the exceptional roster that carried him to glory.
Defining a Superteam
First, let’s clarify what a “superteam” actually means in the modern NBA. The term typically evokes images of star-studded lineups like the Miami Heat’s Big Three (LeBron James, Dwyane Wade, Chris Bosh) or the Golden State Warriors with Kevin Durant joining Stephen Curry, Klay Thompson, and Draymond Green. These teams were built through high-profile free agency moves or trades, stacking multiple top-tier talents to dominate the league. But the essence of a superteam isn’t just about how it’s assembled—it’s about the quality of the roster. A superteam is a squad with elite talent at multiple positions, capable of overwhelming opponents through sheer firepower and versatility.
By that standard, the 2021 Milwaukee Bucks absolutely qualify. Giannis, a two-time MVP and Defensive Player of the Year, was the cornerstone, no question. But he wasn’t alone. Khris Middleton, a perennial All-Star, was a clutch shot-maker and secondary creator who averaged 23.6 points per game in the Finals, often keeping the Bucks afloat when Giannis couldn’t. Jrue Holiday, another All-Star, brought elite two-way play—his defense on Chris Paul in the Finals was a masterclass, and his 27-point, 13-assist Game 5 performance was pivotal. Add in Brook Lopez, a former All-Star and one of the league’s best rim protectors, and you’ve got a starting lineup with three All-Stars and a near-All-Star big man. That’s not a scrappy underdog story—that’s a superteam, plain and simple.
The Bucks’ Talent Stacking
Critics might argue that the Bucks didn’t feel like a superteam because they weren’t a glamorous, big-market juggernaut assembled via blockbuster trades or free-agent coups. Fair enough—Milwaukee didn’t lure Giannis to South Beach or pair him with LeBron in LA. But the Bucks’ front office didn’t exactly sit on their hands, either. They traded for Jrue Holiday in November 2020, giving up a haul of picks and players to land a proven star who’d made All-Defensive teams and had playoff pedigree. Middleton had already blossomed into a borderline top-20 player by then, and Lopez’s transformation into a stretch-five anchor solidified the roster’s balance. This wasn’t a ragtag group of role players elevating Giannis—it was a carefully constructed, top-heavy team designed to win a title.
Compare that to true “non-superteam” champions. The 2004 Detroit Pistons, often cited as the gold standard for doing it “the hard way,” had no MVP-caliber star and relied on a balanced attack led by Chauncey Billups and Ben Wallace. The 2011 Dallas Mavericks leaned heavily on Dirk Nowitzki, but their supporting cast—Jason Terry, Tyson Chandler, Jason Kidd—wasn’t loaded with All-Stars in their prime. The Bucks, by contrast, had three players who’d been All-Stars within the prior three years, plus a former All-Star in Lopez. That’s not “the hard way”—that’s a roster most teams would kill for.
Giannis’ Narrative: Ungrateful or Just Naive?
So why does Giannis keep pushing this “no superteam” line? It’s possible he genuinely believes it, viewing superteams as only those formed by stars jumping ship to join forces elsewhere. He stayed loyal to Milwaukee, signing a supermax extension in 2020 when he could’ve chased rings with, say, the Heat or Mavericks. That loyalty is admirable, and it’s true he didn’t take the LeBron-to-Miami or KD-to-Golden-State route. But loyalty doesn’t erase the fact that the Bucks built a powerhouse around him—one he didn’t have to leave to find.
More troubling, though, is how his rhetoric diminishes the contributions of Middleton, Holiday, and Lopez. When Giannis says he did it “without a superteam,” he’s implicitly suggesting his teammates weren’t on that elite level—like he carried a bunch of scrubs to the promised land. That’s not just inaccurate; it’s ungrateful. Middleton’s Game 4 heroics (40 points) and Holiday’s lockdown defense were as critical to the title as Giannis’ 50-point closeout in Game 6. Stephen Jackson, a former NBA champ himself, called this out in 2021, arguing that Giannis “diminished” his teammates by rejecting the superteam label. “You have a superteam—you might not have super names, but don’t diminish your teammates,” Jackson said. He had a point.
The Right Way or Just His Way?
Giannis’ “right way” mantra also carries a whiff of moral superiority, as if winning with a homegrown core is inherently nobler than joining forces elsewhere. It’s a romantic notion, but it’s not like he turned down a barren roster to tough it out in Milwaukee. The Bucks gave him a championship-caliber supporting cast—something stars like Damian Lillard in Portland never got. Giannis didn’t do it “the hard way” out of some selfless crusade; he did it because the Bucks made it possible. Contrast that with players like Charles Barkley or Karl Malone, who toiled on good-but-not-great teams and never won. That’s the hard way. Giannis had it better than he lets on.
Give Credit Where It’s Due
The 2021 Milwaukee Bucks were a superteam—not in the flashy, headline-grabbing sense, but in the cold, hard reality of their talent and execution. Giannis was the engine, no doubt, but Middleton, Holiday, and Lopez were the gears that made it run. His insistence on framing it as a solo triumph “without a superteam” isn’t just a mischaracterization—it’s a disservice to the teammates who helped him climb the mountain. Loyalty is a virtue, and Giannis deserves praise for sticking with Milwaukee. But let’s not pretend he did it alone or “the right way” out of some unique hardship. He had a damn good team—a superteam—and it’s time he owned that instead of rewriting the story to fit a humble-brag narrative. Gratitude, not just greatness, is what champions are made of.That was a super dominant team Giannis had helping him. A super team. They shot the lights out from three breaking multiple records in the NBA. They all put their egos aside to get Giannis to the Finals which were actually an easier game than what they had got through until there.
And just for a second maybe sit and think how his team mates felt hearing him Giannis say again and again that he did it “the right way” “without a superteam”…
NOTE ON SOURCES FOR THE STATS ON THIS POST:
ALL FROM STATMUSE.COM
