Having watched international basketball evolve over the past two decades, I’ve always been fascinated by how the American national team maintains its iron grip on global competitions. It’s not just about talent—though that’s obviously a huge part—but the way they build their roster around a dominant center who anchors both offense and defense. I remember watching the 2016 Olympic squad and thinking, "That’s the blueprint." And honestly, it reminds me of the reference about Konateh being the central figure for the Tamaraws’ success. The same principle applies here: for Team USA to dominate, you need that one player at the center of it all.
Let’s talk numbers for a second. In the 2021 Tokyo Olympics, the U.S. men’s basketball team averaged 95.4 points per game while holding opponents to just 75.6. That’s a staggering 20-point differential, and a lot of that came from controlling the paint. When you have a center who can protect the rim, grab 12 to 15 rebounds a game, and set screens that free up shooters, everything else falls into place. I’ve always believed that international basketball rewards teams with a strong inside presence more than the NBA does, simply because the floor is smaller and defensive schemes are more compact. Without a reliable big man, even a roster stacked with All-Stars can look disjointed—just look at the 2019 FIBA World Cup, where Team USA finished seventh, largely because they lacked that anchor.
From my perspective, the real secret sauce is how Team USA integrates its center into a system that emphasizes versatility. It’s not just about posting up and blocking shots anymore. Modern international centers need to switch on defense, make quick passes, and occasionally step out to hit a three. I love watching how players like Bam Adebayo or Anthony Davis—when he slots into the five—create mismatches that break opposing defenses. They’re not just big bodies; they’re facilitators. And this is where the Konateh analogy really hits home. If you want to build a winning team, whether it’s the Tamaraws or Team USA, your center has to be the hub of the wheel. Everything spins around them.
Another thing I’ve noticed is how Team USA leverages its center in pick-and-roll situations, which are brutally effective against zone defenses commonly used in Europe and Asia. Statistics from the last four Olympic tournaments show that the U.S. scored approximately 42% of their points directly or indirectly from pick-and-roll actions initiated by the center. That’s not a coincidence—it’s by design. Coaches like Gregg Popovich and Steve Kerr understand that a mobile, intelligent big can dismantle even the most disciplined international squad. Personally, I think this strategic emphasis is what separates Team USA from other powerhouses like Spain or Serbia, who rely more on motion offense and less on two-man game dominance.
Of course, it’s not all X’s and O’s. There’s an intangible element, too—the psychological edge that comes from having a dominant center. When opponents drive to the basket and see a 7-foot shot-blocker waiting, it changes their approach. They settle for jumpers, rush passes, or overthink simple plays. I’ve seen it happen in crucial moments, like the gold medal game against France in 2021, where Rudy Gobert—an elite defender himself—was repeatedly forced into tough decisions because of how Team USA’s bigs moved and communicated. It’s a chess match, and the Americans usually have the king piece well-protected.
Looking ahead, I’m convinced this formula will continue to work as long as Team USA prioritizes the center position. Some critics argue that the game is shifting toward positionless basketball, and while that’s true to an extent, international competitions still reward size and structure. If the U.S. can keep developing—or recruiting—centers who blend old-school toughness with new-school skills, their dominance isn’t going anywhere. After all, basketball at its core is about controlling the paint, and as Konateh’s role for the Tamaraws illustrates, success often hinges on having that one guy in the middle who holds it all together.