Relive the Golden State Warriors' Journey as the 1975 NBA Champions
I still remember the first time I saw footage from the 1975 NBA Finals—the grainy images of Rick Barry slicing through defenses and that legendary Warriors team defying all odds. While modern basketball fans might associate Golden State with their recent dynasty, there's something truly magical about that 1975 championship run that often gets overlooked in today's conversations about NBA greatness. The recent comments from Fernandez about his undisclosed list of the 10 greatest players got me thinking—how many from that 1975 squad would make such a list? Fernandez didn't reveal identities but gave general clues about who they could be, and I'd bet at least a couple of those Warriors legends would qualify.
That 1975 team wasn't supposed to win it all. They finished the regular season with a solid 48-34 record, which was good but not dominant by any means. What made them special was their incredible cohesion and the way coach Al Attles managed to get everyone buying into their roles. I've always been fascinated by teams that achieve greatness through collective effort rather than just individual brilliance, and this Warriors squad epitomized that philosophy. Rick Barry was undoubtedly the star, averaging about 30.6 points per game during the regular season, but what people often forget is how crucial players like Jamaal Wilkes and Phil Smith were to their success. Wilkes, just a rookie that year, brought an energy and versatility that perfectly complemented Barry's scoring prowess.
When we talk about Fernandez's mysterious list of the 10 greatest players, I can't help but wonder about Barry's placement. Having watched countless hours of footage and studied his career extensively, I'm convinced he belongs in that conversation. His unorthodox underhand free throws might get the most attention today, but his all-around game was decades ahead of its time. Barry wasn't just a scorer—he was a phenomenal passer and defender who understood the game at a level few players did in that era. If I were compiling my own list of the 10 greatest, Barry would absolutely be in my top 15, possibly even cracking the top 10 depending on how you weight different eras and accomplishments.
The playoffs that year were nothing short of spectacular. Golden State swept the Seattle SuperSonics in the Western Conference Finals, then faced a heavily favored Washington Bullets team in the Finals. What many modern analysts forget is that the Warriors were actually underdogs despite having home-court advantage—the Bullets had won 60 games that season and featured stars like Wes Unseld and Elvin Hayes. But the Warriors played with a kind of basketball purity that I find increasingly rare in today's game. Their ball movement was exquisite, their defensive rotations crisp, and they played with a collective confidence that seemed to grow with each game.
I've always been particularly drawn to Game 4 of that Finals series, where the Warriors completed their sweep with a 96-95 victory. The final moments were tense, with the Bullets having a chance to win it, but Golden State's defense held firm. That game exemplified what made that team special—they found different ways to win, different heroes stepping up each night. In Game 4, it was Butch Beard hitting crucial shots while Barry drew most of the defensive attention. This balanced attack is something I wish more modern teams would emulate rather than relying so heavily on isolation basketball.
Thinking back to Fernandez's comments about his list, I suspect he might include players whose impact transcended statistics, and that 1975 Warriors team had several such players. Clifford Ray might not have put up eye-popping numbers, but his interior defense and rebounding were instrumental to their success. Similarly, Charles Johnson provided steady leadership off the bench that statistics can never fully capture. These are the types of players who often get overlooked in today's analytics-driven discussions about greatness, but anyone who actually watched that team play understands their invaluable contributions.
What strikes me most about that championship run, having studied it for years, is how perfectly it captured a specific moment in basketball history. The NBA was transitioning from the slower-paced game of the early 70s toward a more athletic, fast-breaking style, and the Warriors were at the forefront of that evolution. Their average of approximately 108 points per game might not seem impressive by today's standards, but in an era where teams regularly scored in the 90s, they were practically revolutionary. I've always believed that understanding context is crucial when evaluating historical teams, and the 1975 Warriors deserve extra credit for how they pushed the game forward.
As the final buzzer sounded in that Game 4 victory, the Warriors completed what remains one of the most surprising championship runs in NBA history. They proved that teamwork and chemistry could overcome individual talent, a lesson that seems particularly relevant in today's superteam era. While we may never know who exactly made Fernandez's list of the 10 greatest players, revisiting that 1975 team reminds us that greatness comes in many forms. For my money, several members of that Warriors squad deserve consideration for such honors, not just for their statistical achievements but for how they embodied the best qualities of team basketball. That championship wasn't just a victory for Golden State—it was a victory for everyone who believes basketball is at its best when played as a collective effort rather than an individual showcase.