The Legacy of Greg Oden: Revisiting the 2007 NBA Draft's First Pick Story

I still remember the excitement surrounding the 2007 NBA Draft like it was yesterday. As someone who's followed basketball for over two decades, that particular draft class felt special—until it became one of the most heartbreaking stories in modern sports history. Greg Oden's selection over Kevin Durant wasn't just a draft pick; it was a decision that would haunt the Portland Trail Blazers for years to come. Looking back now, with the wisdom of hindsight and countless hours analyzing draft prospects, I can't help but wonder how different things might have been if the Blazers had chosen differently.

The hype around Oden was absolutely justified at the time. Standing at 7 feet tall with an incredible 7-foot-4 wingspan, he possessed physical attributes that made scouts drool. His freshman year at Ohio State was nothing short of dominant—averaging 15.7 points, 9.6 rebounds, and 3.3 blocks per game while leading the Buckeyes to the NCAA championship game. I distinctly remember watching that final against Florida and thinking, "This kid is the next great NBA center." His defensive presence was transformative, his footwork surprisingly polished for a player his size, and his basketball IQ seemed beyond his years. The consensus among experts was clear: Oden was a franchise-changing talent, the kind of player you build championship teams around.

Portland's decision to select Oden first overall made perfect sense in that context. The Trail Blazers had been searching for a dominant big man since the days of Bill Walton, and here was someone projected to be even better. Durant, while spectacular offensively at Texas, raised questions about his slender frame and defensive capabilities. I'll admit—I was among those who thought Oden was the safer pick. The NBA has always valued dominant big men, and Oden fit that prototype perfectly. What we couldn't foresee was how his body would betray him, how those knee issues that started in college would escalate into a career-defining nightmare.

The tragedy of Oden's career isn't just about missed potential—it's about the brutal reality of professional sports where physical health often determines destiny. Oden underwent his first major knee surgery before ever playing an NBA game, missing his entire rookie season. Over the next five years, he would play just 82 games total—exactly one full season's worth—while undergoing multiple additional surgeries. The numbers tell a devastating story: 105 total games played across his entire NBA career, averaging 8.0 points and 6.2 rebounds. Meanwhile, Durant was blossoming into one of the greatest scorers in league history, winning scoring titles and eventually MVPs.

This brings me to that fascinating quote from Tiongco about team chemistry and development. He mentioned how their team was good but struggled with consistency, especially from their younger players. "Lapses lang naman lagi 'yung sa duluhan. So hopefully, 'yung mga rookies ko, mag-mature sila, makuha nila 'yung mga roles sa team namin. Kasi we are good naman as a team. Nabuo kami almost one week na lang ng league. Biglang nagdatingan 'yung mga trades. So 'yung chemistry, wala pa," Tiongco observed. This perfectly illustrates what Portland faced with Oden—they never had the continuity to develop proper chemistry because their cornerstone player was constantly in and out of the lineup. The Blazers built their entire system around a player who could rarely stay on the court, creating instability that affected everyone.

What's particularly painful about the Oden story is that when he did play, he showed flashes of that promised greatness. During the 2009-10 season, his last relatively healthy stretch, he averaged 11.1 points, 8.5 rebounds, and 2.3 blocks in just 23.9 minutes per game. The advanced stats were even more impressive—his player efficiency rating of 23.1 would have ranked among the league's elite had he qualified. I remember watching him dominate against legitimate NBA centers and thinking, "This is it. He's finally arrived." Then another injury would strike, resetting the progress and deepening the frustration.

The legacy of that 2007 draft pick extends far beyond Portland's misfortune. It fundamentally changed how teams evaluate prospects, placing greater emphasis on medical histories and long-term durability. Before Oden, teams might overlook minor injury concerns for transcendent talent. Nowadays, I notice front offices conducting more thorough medical evaluations, sometimes even bringing in multiple specialists. Zion Williamson's draft process, for instance, involved intense scrutiny of his knee issues that simply wouldn't have happened pre-Oden.

There's also the human element that often gets lost in these discussions. Oden has been remarkably candid about his struggles with depression and substance abuse following his NBA career. In interviews, he's spoken about the immense pressure of being labeled a "bust" and how difficult it was to cope with his body's limitations. As someone who's interacted with numerous athletes behind the scenes, I can attest that the psychological toll of persistent injuries is often underestimated. We focus so much on the physical rehabilitation that we forget about the mental and emotional recovery required.

The Portland organization deserves some credit for how they handled the situation. They stuck with Oden through multiple rehabs, never publicly expressing regret over their choice, and supported him even after waiving him in 2012. Still, the ripple effects were significant. The Blazers wasted prime years of Brandon Roy's career (another injury-plagued talent) and had to completely rebuild several years later. It wasn't until Damian Lillard arrived in 2012 that the franchise found stable footing again.

When I discuss the 2007 draft with colleagues today, the conversation inevitably turns to the "what ifs." What if Portland had chosen Durant? What if Oden's knees had held up? What if modern sports science and load management techniques existed back then? The truth is, we'll never know. What we do know is that the Oden story serves as a permanent reminder that drafting is equal parts science and fortune. No amount of film study, analytics, or medical testing can guarantee how a player's career will unfold.

Seventeen years later, the ghost of that decision still lingers around the NBA. For me personally, it reinforced the importance of balancing talent evaluation with risk assessment. While I still believe teams should draft the best available talent, the Oden situation taught me that sometimes the "best" talent isn't the one with the highest ceiling but the one most likely to reach their potential. It's a lesson that continues to shape how I analyze prospects today, always remembering that behind every draft pick is a human being facing pressures and challenges most of us can scarcely imagine.