NBA's Top 10 Points in a Game: The Most Legendary Scoring Performances in Basketball History
I still get chills thinking about some of the scoring explosions I've witnessed throughout NBA history. The sheer spectacle of an athlete reaching that mythical zone where every shot feels inevitable—it's what makes basketball so captivating. Just last week, I was reading about Dave Ildefonso's PBA situation, where his playing rights got rejected during a transfer from Titan Ultra to Converge. It reminded me how procedural hurdles can sometimes overshadow pure talent, making those unimpeded legendary performances even more precious. When a player transcends everything—defenses, rules, even team dynamics—that's when history gets written.
Wilt Chamberlain's 100-point game in 1962 stands as this untouchable monument in basketball lore. I've watched the grainy footage countless times, and what strikes me isn't just the number itself but the context. Playing for the Philadelphia Warriors against the New York Knicks in Hershey, Pennsylvania, Wilt took 63 shots and made 36 of them. He went 28-for-32 from the free-throw line, which for anyone familiar with his usual struggles at the stripe, was nothing short of miraculous. The man averaged 50.4 points that entire season, a stat that still bends my mind whenever I consider it. Modern analytics folks might question the pace or defensive schemes of that era, but watching how he dominated physically—there was simply no answer once he established position.
Kobe Bryant's 81 points against the Toronto Raptors in 2006 feels more visceral to me, maybe because I watched it live on television. I remember texting friends during halftime when he had "only" 26 points, saying he looked determined but nothing historic. Then the third quarter happened. He outscored the entire Raptors team 27-22 in those twelve minutes, and by the fourth quarter, we all knew we were witnessing something transcendent. What made Kobe's performance different from Wilt's was the variety—fadeaways, three-pointers, drives through triple teams. He shot 46 times that night, making 28, including 7-of-13 from deep. The Lakers needed every one of those points too, winning 122-104 after being down by 18 at one point.
When we talk about modern scoring explosions, Damian Lillard's 71-point game against Houston last season comes to mind immediately. I've always been fascinated by efficient high-volume scoring, and Dame exemplified that—he took 38 shots to get there, making 22, including 13 three-pointers on 22 attempts from beyond the arc. The fact that he added 6 rebounds and 6 assists while committing just 2 turnovers shows how complete his domination was that night. It wasn't just chucking; it was calculated annihilation. I'd argue his performance might be more impressive than some higher-scoring games because of the three-point accuracy and playmaking involved.
Elgin Baylor's 71 points back in 1960 often gets overlooked in these conversations, which is a shame because the context makes it remarkable. He did it before the three-point line existed, against a New York Knicks team that actually tried to defend him—unlike some of the matador defense Wilt faced in his 100-point game. Baylor shot 28-for-48 from the field and 15-for-19 from the line while grabbing 25 rebounds. I've spoken with old-timers who insist Baylor's performance was more physically demanding than Wilt's because of his style—all acrobatic drives and mid-range jumpers without the overwhelming size advantage.
David Thompson's 73-point game on the final day of the 1978 season represents one of the great "what if" stories in scoring history. He dropped 53 points in the first half alone against Detroit, and I've always wondered how high he could have gone if the game had been competitive in the second half. The Nuggets were resting players for playoffs, and Thompson essentially had the green light to chase points. What makes this performance stick in my memory is the sheer explosiveness—32 points in the first quarter remains an NBA record. He was like a human fireworks display that just kept exploding.
David Robinson's 71 points in 1994 came with controversial circumstances—he was explicitly chasing the scoring title against Shaquille O'Neal. The Spurs deliberately fouled opponents to stop clock and get more possessions, feeding Robinson on nearly every play. While some purists dismiss it, I find the raw determination fascinating. The Admiral went 26-for-41 from the field and made 18 of 25 free throws in that final game against the Clippers. It was less organic than other legendary performances but demonstrated how individual milestones can sometimes override team strategy.
Devin Booker's 70-point game in 2017 splits opinion among basketball circles. I was covering the Celtics that season and remember watching the highlights with mixed feelings. On one hand, 70 points is 70 points—the ball still has to go through the hoop. On the other, the Suns were deliberately fouling while down double digits in the final minutes to get Booker more attempts. There's something both admirable and slightly hollow about that approach. Still, his efficiency can't be dismissed—21-for-40 from the field, 24-for-26 from the line, and 4-of-11 from three against the Celtics' respectable defense.
Returning to Wilt, his 78-point outing against the Lakers in 1961 often gets lost between his 100-point game and several other 60+ point performances. What stands out in the box score is his 31-for-42 shooting—an unbelievable 73.8% from the field for a volume that high. He added 16-for-22 from the line and 43 rebounds. Yes, 43 rebounds in a single game. Whenever modern fans debate Giannis or Embiid's dominance, I point them to these Wilt stat lines that defy comprehension.
The common thread through all these performances isn't just talent but circumstance—the perfect storm of hot hand, defensive schemes that can't adjust, and sometimes organizational willingness to prioritize individual achievement. That Dave Ildefonso situation with the PBA reminds me how bureaucracy can interrupt a player's momentum, making these unimpeded explosions even more special. They represent basketball in its purest form—one human against the game itself, temporarily overcoming every limitation.
Looking at today's pace-and-space era, I wouldn't be surprised if we see another 80-point game soon. The math favors high-volume three-point shooting, and defenses are stretched thinner than ever. But there's a difference between accumulating points and creating legend. What separates these performances isn't just the number, but the story—the defensive adjustments that failed, the teammates who understood their role in history, the crowd's growing realization they're witnessing the extraordinary. That's why decades later, we still debate these games with the passion of someone who was there, because in a way, through shared basketball memory, we all were.