NBA's Longest Games: A Look at the Most Overtimes in League History
I remember watching that legendary 2016 ONE Championship fight between Eduard Folayang and Shinya Aoki like it was yesterday. What struck me most wasn't just the victory itself, but how that single moment completely transformed Folayang's career trajectory. It got me thinking about how certain games or matches become defining moments in athletes' careers, and in the NBA, nothing creates these career-altering opportunities quite like marathon overtime games. When players find themselves in these extraordinary circumstances, it's their chance to become legends or fade into obscurity.
The NBA has witnessed some truly epic battles that stretched deep into the night, testing players' physical and mental limits beyond imagination. Let me take you through what I consider the most fascinating overtime marathons in league history. The record-holder remains the 1951 matchup between the Indianapolis Olympians and Rochester Royals that required six overtimes to decide a winner. Imagine playing 78 minutes of basketball - that's nearly two full games back-to-back! Players like Red Rocha and Bob Davies logged minutes that would be unthinkable today, with the final score settling at 75-73 in favor of Indianapolis. The pace was slower then, sure, but the physical toll must have been brutal. What fascinates me about these historic games is how they create unexpected heroes. Role players who might normally contribute 8-10 points suddenly become franchise legends because they made crucial plays in the fourth, fifth, or even sixth overtime period.
More recently, we had the 2019 thriller between Atlanta and Chicago that went to four overtimes. Trae Young poured in 49 points and 16 assists while playing 56 minutes - numbers that still boggle my mind when I look them up. Zach LaVine countered with 47 points of his own in what became an offensive showcase that nobody wanted to end. These extended contests reveal character in ways that normal games simply can't. I've always believed that how players perform when exhausted beyond measure tells you more about them than any combine measurement or scouting report ever could.
The 1993 showdown between Phoenix and Portland reached four overtimes as well, featuring Charles Barkley playing 53 minutes despite his physical style that typically wore him down quicker than most. What people forget is that Danny Ainge came off the bench to play 46 minutes himself, hitting crucial shots that extended the game repeatedly. This is where coaching decisions become magnified - do you stick with your starters until they drop, or trust your bench in these pressure situations? Having covered the league for years, I've noticed that coaches who successfully navigate these marathon games often have deeper rotations and aren't afraid to use unexpected combinations when fatigue sets in.
What makes these games so special from my perspective is how they create Folayang-like moments for NBA players. Think about it - before that fight, Folayang was respected but not considered elite. His victory over Aoki transformed how people viewed him. Similarly, when Reggie Miller scored 8 points in 9 seconds against the Knicks in 1995, it happened in regulation, but it was that clutch performance in high-pressure situations that defined his career. In overtime marathons, we see similar transformations. Players who might be solid but unspectacular during the regular season suddenly have their "Folayang moment" when they hit a game-winner in the third overtime or make a defensive stop that saves the game.
The physical toll of these games cannot be overstated. Modern sports science suggests that the recovery time after playing 50+ minutes extends well beyond normal game recovery. I've spoken with trainers who estimate that for every 10 minutes beyond regulation, players need an additional day of recovery. That means participants in a four-overtime game might need nearly a week to return to peak performance. This creates fascinating strategic decisions for coaches in subsequent games - do you rest your stars after their heroic efforts, or push through with shortened rotations?
From a fan's perspective, there's nothing quite like watching an overtime epic unfold. I'll never forget where I was during that Celtics-Suns triple-overtime classic in 1976 - the one where Gar Heard hit that miraculous shot at the buzzer. These games become part of basketball folklore, passed down through generations of fans. They're the stories we tell years later, remembering not just the final score, but the human drama that unfolded as players pushed beyond their limits.
As the league continues to evolve with load management and minute restrictions, I worry we might see fewer of these epic battles. Teams are more cautious with player health than ever before, and rightfully so. But part of me hopes we haven't seen the last of the four or five-overtime classics. There's something pure about basketball when it's stripped down to its essence - players exhausted, coaches making gut decisions, and everyone in the arena knowing they're witnessing something special. These games create the Folayang moments that define careers and become permanent parts of NBA history. The next time you see a game going to overtime, stick around - you might be watching history in the making, and witnessing a career transformation unfold before your eyes.