2017 NBA Playoff Odds: Which Teams Had the Best Championship Chances?

When I look back at the 2017 NBA playoffs, what strikes me most isn't just which teams were favored—it's how dramatically those odds shifted throughout the season. As someone who's followed basketball analytics for over a decade, I've learned that championship probabilities aren't static; they're living, breathing numbers that tell a story far beyond simple math. The Golden State Warriors entered the postseason with what felt like an insurmountable advantage, sitting at approximately 65% championship probability according to most major sportsbooks. But having watched underdogs defy probabilities before, I knew better than to treat those numbers as gospel.

I remember discussing these odds with fellow analysts back in April 2017, and the consensus was that we were witnessing one of the most predictable playoffs in recent memory. The Warriors' superteam, fresh off a historic 73-win season the previous year and now bolstered by Kevin Durant's arrival, seemed destined for the title. Their offensive rating of 115.6 during the regular season was simply absurd—the highest in NBA history at that point. Yet what fascinated me was how the Cleveland Cavaliers, despite clear defensive deficiencies, maintained around 25% championship probability throughout the playoffs. Having covered LeBron James' entire career, I've developed what some might call an irrational belief in his ability to defy analytics, and 2017 reinforced that bias.

The San Antonio Spurs presented what I considered the most intriguing case study. With Kawhi Leonard emerging as a legitimate MVP candidate, their championship probability peaked at around 12% before the Western Conference Finals. I'll admit I was personally rooting for Gregg Popovich's system to triumph over the Warriors' superteam—there's something beautiful about fundamental basketball beating pure talent. Their defensive rating of 103.5 during the regular season was typically Spursian in its efficiency, but what many analysts underestimated was how much their offense relied on Leonard's individual creation. When Zaza Pachulia's controversial closeout effectively ended San Antonio's chances in Game 1 of the WCF, I remember thinking how fragile these probability models can be—one awkward landing can rewrite an entire postseason narrative.

What makes playoff odds so compelling, in my view, is how they capture both mathematical reality and human drama. The Houston Rockets entered the playoffs with approximately 4% championship probability according to Basketball Reference's model, but watching James Harden and Mike D'Antoni's offensive revolution, I felt they were being undervalued. Their pace-and-space system generated the second-most three-point attempts in NBA history that season, and having studied D'Antoni's systems since his Phoenix days, I believed they matched up better against Golden State than the models suggested. Sometimes, you develop gut feelings about certain matchups that transcend the numbers, and Houston's potential to stretch the Warriors' defense was one of those instances.

The Boston Celtics' journey particularly resonates with me because it demonstrates how quickly odds can transform. Before the playoffs began, they held roughly 2% championship probability. But after Isaiah Thomas' heroic 53-point performance in Game 2 against Washington—played the day after his sister's tragic death—I remember telling colleagues that we were witnessing something that probability models couldn't quantify. The emotional lift that performance gave Boston temporarily boosted their championship odds to nearly 6%, though realistically, their ceiling was always the Conference Finals. As someone who values narrative as much as analytics, those moments remind me why sports transcend mere numbers.

This brings me to why I find the reference to clutch performances so relevant when discussing playoff odds. That excerpt about Caitlin Viray and Trisha Tubu—while from a different sport—perfectly illustrates how individual moments can override statistical projections. In the NBA context, Kyrie Irving's game-winning three-pointer in Game 4 of the Finals wasn't just a basket; it was the moment that probably shifted Cleveland's championship probability from about 15% to nearly 40% in many live models. Having witnessed similar clutch performances throughout NBA history, I've learned that probability models struggle to account for what I call "clutch genetics"—some players simply possess an uncanny ability to elevate when everything's on the line.

The Toronto Raptors' experience that postseason taught me another valuable lesson about playoff odds. Despite earning the third seed in the East, their championship probability never exceeded 1.5%, which I always felt was slightly disrespectful to a team that had reached the Conference Finals the previous year. Their sweep at the hands of Cleveland reinforced what many analysts suspected—that Toronto's regular-season success didn't translate well to playoff basketball. As someone who's analyzed DeMar DeRozan's career extensively, I believe his mid-range heavy game, while aesthetically pleasing, created structural limitations that probability models accurately identified.

Reflecting on the entire playoff landscape, what stands out most in my memory is how the Warriors' dominance actually made probability modeling somewhat boring. By the time the Finals began, some models gave Golden State as high as 93% championship probability—numbers we typically only see in foregone conclusions. While the Warriors ultimately fulfilled those projections, going 16-1 through the postseason, I can't help but feel something was lost when outcomes become so predictable. The beauty of sports, in my opinion, lies in their uncertainty, and when models become too confident, the games can feel like formalities rather than competitions.

In the final analysis, the 2017 NBA playoffs demonstrated both the power and limitations of championship probability models. They correctly identified Golden State as historically dominant, but they couldn't capture the emotional journey—the heartbreak of Kawhi's injury, the brilliance of LeBron's performance despite losing, the sheer entertainment value of competitive games even when outcomes seemed predetermined. As we move toward more sophisticated models incorporating player tracking and biomechanical data, I hope we never lose sight of what makes basketball compelling beyond the numbers. Because at its core, the game will always be about those clutch moments—whether it's Caitlin Viray firing attacks in volleyball or Kyrie Irving sinking contested threes—that defy probability and remind us why we watch.