In the rich tapestry of NBA history, few stories resonate as deeply as Isaiah Thomas’s 2016-17 season with the Boston Celtics. It wasn’t just about numbers, although the numbers were spectacular. It wasn’t just about the clutch plays, though he made them night after night. It was about defiance. It was about a 5’9” point guard—overlooked, doubted, cast off, and forgotten—ascending to near-MVP status in a league dominated by towering athletes and unprecedented talent. That year, Isaiah Thomas didn’t just play basketball. He made a statement: heart over height.
At the start of the 2016-17 season, Thomas was entering his sixth year in the league. He had bounced around, drafted dead last in 2011—60th overall—by the Sacramento Kings. Despite solid production, he was never considered a franchise cornerstone. He was seen as too small, too much of a defensive liability, and more of a scoring spark plug than a foundational star. Even when he joined Boston in 2015 via trade, the move was met with modest fanfare. But that year, everything changed.
Isaiah Thomas entered the season with confidence and momentum, coming off a strong 2015-16 campaign where he averaged over 22 points per game and earned his first All-Star nod. But few could have predicted the leap he would make next. Night after night, Thomas dazzled. He was a blur in transition, a sniper from beyond the arc, and a master of the paint despite giving up six to ten inches on most defenders. He averaged 28.9 points per game that season, good for third in the NBA behind only Russell Westbrook and James Harden—two MVP frontrunners. More impressively, he did it on incredible efficiency, shooting over 46% from the field and nearly 38% from three.
What made his season so remarkable wasn’t just the production—it was how he produced. He led the league in fourth-quarter scoring, earning the nickname “King in the Fourth.” It became a nightly spectacle: Thomas would play solid, even quiet basketball for the first three quarters, and then explode in the final frame, routinely putting away teams with dagger threes, circus layups, and fearless drives. There was something magnetic about it. Boston fans began to believe they were watching not just a star, but a legend in the making.
And it wasn’t just the fans. The Celtics, under head coach Brad Stevens, built their entire offensive identity around Thomas. Everything flowed through him. He commanded double teams, broke down defenses, and found shooters when teams tried to trap him. His pick-and-roll play was surgical. Despite his size, he drew fouls at an elite rate and wasn’t afraid to take contact. He was also remarkably durable, playing 76 games that year and logging heavy minutes.
By midseason, the Celtics were challenging the Cavaliers for the top seed in the Eastern Conference, and Thomas was firmly entrenched in MVP conversations. No one expected this. Boston had assembled a scrappy, overachieving roster, built on the backs of smart trades and savvy draft picks. But Isaiah was the engine. He was more than just their leading scorer; he was their identity, their heart, and their emotional pulse.
The most poignant and painful part of Thomas’s 2016-17 story came in the playoffs. On April 15, the day before Boston’s first-round opener against the Chicago Bulls, tragedy struck: Isaiah’s younger sister, Chyna Thomas, died in a car accident. She was just 22. No one would have faulted Thomas for stepping away from the game. Grief of that magnitude is soul-crushing. But Isaiah chose to play, stating that it was what his sister would have wanted. The image of him sobbing on the bench during warmups became one of the most unforgettable moments in NBA postseason history.
Despite the heartbreak, Thomas took the court that night and poured in 33 points. Though Boston lost the first two games of the series at home, Thomas’s courage became a rallying point. The Celtics stormed back to win four straight and take the series. Thomas’s play was inspiring, but it was his resilience that captivated the league. He wasn’t just scoring points—he was showing the world what it meant to be human in a game often reduced to statistics and highlight reels.
The second round brought the Washington Wizards, and with it, one of the most unforgettable performances in Celtics playoff lore. On May 2nd, what would have been Chyna’s 23rd birthday, Isaiah dropped 53 points in a Game 2 win. It was one of the highest-scoring games in NBA playoff history and a performance etched in emotion, fury, and love. Thomas wasn’t just playing basketball. He was honoring his sister’s memory with every shot.
The Celtics would go on to win the series in seven games, setting up a showdown with the defending champion Cleveland Cavaliers in the Eastern Conference Finals. Unfortunately, this was where Thomas’s heroic run met its tragic conclusion. He had been playing through a hip injury for weeks, and in Game 2, the damage became too severe. Thomas was ruled out for the remainder of the series—and as it would turn out, it was the last time he would suit up for Boston.
That postseason ended in heartbreak, both for the Celtics and for Thomas personally. Boston lost to the Cavaliers in five games, and while Thomas vowed to return stronger than ever, the seeds of change were already being planted. That summer, the Celtics—citing concerns about his hip injury and seeking a new path forward—traded Thomas to the Cleveland Cavaliers in a blockbuster deal that brought Kyrie Irving to Boston. The move shocked the basketball world. For a player who had just finished fifth in MVP voting, carried his team emotionally and physically, and played through personal tragedy and physical pain, the trade felt like a betrayal.
Thomas’s career never fully recovered. The hip injury lingered, and he struggled to find a consistent role in Cleveland, then Los Angeles, Denver, Washington, and other teams. His stints were brief and often marred by injury or limited opportunity. But while his fall from NBA stardom was swift and painful, nothing could erase what he accomplished in 2016-17.
Isaiah Thomas’s campaign that year wasn’t just improbable—it was mythical. It shattered the notion that size was a barrier to greatness. It proved that heart, skill, and grit could elevate a player beyond physical limitations. In a league obsessed with wingspan, verticality, and switchability, Thomas was an anomaly—and yet he dominated. He reminded fans of Allen Iverson, of undersized guards who played with ferocity and flair, but he also created his own legacy.
His story resonated far beyond the basketball court. It was about overcoming odds, silencing critics, and pushing through unimaginable pain. It was about showing up for your team, your city, and your family even when the weight of the world threatened to crush you. It was a story of a man who believed in himself when no one else did, and who gave everything he had to a team and a city that came to love him like few players before.
In Boston, Thomas will always be remembered as a hero. His jersey may never hang in the rafters, and his time there was short, but his impact was indelible. He gave the Celtics their identity in a transitional era, bridging the gap between rebuilding and relevance. He made TD Garden electric again. He made kids believe they could make it regardless of their size. He reminded fans that sports are about more than trophies and contracts—they’re about stories, heart, and humanity.
Long after his playing days are done, the legend of Isaiah Thomas’s 2016-17 season will endure. It will be retold in highlight reels, in documentaries, in conversations between fathers and sons, between hoopers and dreamers. It was a season of pure basketball poetry—raw, emotional, courageous, and unforgettable. There may never be another one quite like it.
