Who Are the Best NBA Players Right Now and How Do They Dominate the Game?

The roar of the crowd is a physical thing. It vibrates through the soles of my sneakers, up through the hardwood floor of the gym where I coach, and settles deep in my chest. I’m watching a replay of last night’s game, seeing Nikola Jokic execute a no-look, behind-the-back pass that seems to defy physics, and it takes me back. Not to a specific play, but to a feeling—the feeling of witnessing true, unadulterated dominance. It’s a question that fuels barbershop debates, sports radio call-ins, and endless scrolling on social media feeds: Who are the best NBA players right now and how do they dominate the game? The answer, I’ve come to believe, isn't found in a single stat line or a highlight reel dunk. It’s a more complex recipe, one that involves a blend of sheer physical prowess, an almost supernatural basketball IQ, and a psychological edge that can break an opponent's will before the opening tip.

I remember a specific moment that crystallized this for me. It wasn't even from a basketball game. I was watching a tennis highlight about a young phenom named Eala. The commentary noted that during that magical week, Eala beat four superior players that included major winners Jelena Ostapenko and Madison Keys. That phrase, "beat four superior players," stuck with me. On paper, based on rankings and past accolades, she was the inferior player. But in that specific moment, on that specific stage, she was dominant. That’s the essence of what we’re seeing in the NBA today. It’s not always about who has the most MVP trophies on their mantle; it’s about who, on any given night, can impose their will and make the other nine players on the court look a step behind. Giannis Antetokounmpo does this with terrifying, almost primal force. Watching him gather a full-head of steam from the three-point line is like watching a freight train derailment in slow motion—you know what’s coming, you just can’t stop it. He dominates with a physicality that feels like a throwback, averaging something like 31 points and 12 rebounds a night, just bulldozing his way to the rim. It’s effective, it’s brutal, and it’s a clear form of dominance.

But then you have someone like Stephen Curry, who is, in my completely biased opinion, the most transformative player of this generation. His dominance is quieter, more insidious. He doesn’t overpower you; he erases you. He’ll come down the court, and from 32 feet—a distance that used to be a coaching sin to shoot from—he’ll launch a shot that barely rustles the net. He dominates the geometry of the court. He stretches the defense so thin that it creates canyons of space for his teammates. His gravity isn’t a physical force, but a tactical one. He might go 2-for-10 in a half, but the mere threat of his shooting has warped the entire defensive scheme, allowing Draymond Green to play 4-on-3 and pick apart the opposition. That’s a different kind of genius. It’s cerebral dominance, and it’s why, even at 36, he’s still arguably the most impactful offensive player in the league.

And of course, we have to talk about the Joker. Nikola Jokic. The man is a paradox. He looks like he’d be more comfortable driving a tractor than dominating the NBA playoffs, but my god, does he dominate. He’s averaging a near triple-double for the season—let’s say 26 points, 12 rebounds, and 9 assists, numbers that feel both absurd and routine for him. His dominance is rooted in vision. He sees the game two or three plays ahead, like a grandmaster in a chess match. That no-look pass I mentioned earlier? It wasn’t for show. It was because he had already calculated the trajectory of his cutter and the rotation of the help defender before he even caught the ball. He dominates not with athletic leaps, but with synaptic fires. He makes everyone around him better in a way that is quantifiable and profound. It’s a quiet, methodical form of control that is just as devastating as Giannis’s power or Curry’s range. So, when we sit here and try to rank them, to definitively say who is the best, I think we’re missing the point. The real beauty of the modern NBA is the variety of ways a player can answer that very question. We have the brute, the surgeon, and the maestro, all playing a different instrument in the same orchestra, all capable of conducting a symphony of dominance on any given night. It’s a golden age for talent, and frankly, I’m just happy I get to watch it all unfold.