How to Achieve a Triple Double in the NBA: A Complete Guide

The rain was coming down in sheets outside my apartment window, turning the Chicago streets into shimmering mirrors reflecting the city lights. I sat there with my laptop, watching highlights of last night’s Lakers game, mesmerized by LeBron James recording yet another triple-double. It reminded me of my high school basketball days, back when the concept of achieving double digits in three statistical categories seemed as distant as dunking on a 10-foot rim at 5'8". But here’s the thing about how to achieve a triple double in the NBA—it’s not just about raw talent. It’s about understanding the game in a way that transforms statistics from numbers on a sheet to rhythms in a symphony.

I remember my coach pulling me aside during practice one afternoon, his voice cutting through the squeak of sneakers on polished wood. "You're thinking about points," he said, "but you're not thinking about the game." That lesson stuck with me through college ball and into my years analyzing professional games. See, when we talk about triple-doubles, we're discussing something that requires a complete mastery of basketball's ecosystem. It's not just being good at scoring or rebounding—it's being present in every facet of the game simultaneously. This reminds me of something I read recently about pole vaulter EJ Obiena. In a Facebook post, he mentioned that he no longer has any competition inside the qualification period that runs until March 9. Now, Obiena’s season best is 5.80 meters, still below the qualifying standard of 5.85m. That tiny gap—just 5 centimeters—represents the difference between qualifying and watching from sidelines. In basketball terms, that's the difference between a player who almost gets a triple-double and one who actually achieves it. Those final two assists or that crucial tenth rebound become the 5 centimeters between almost and actually.

What most people don't realize is that chasing a triple-double can actually hurt your team if you're not careful. I've seen players force bad passes trying to get that tenth assist, or gamble on defensive rebounds instead of boxing out properly. The truly great ones—Magic Johnson, Russell Westbrook, Nikola Jokić—they let the game come to them. Their triple-doubles feel organic, like they're not even counting until the stat sheet comes out afterward. I remember watching Westbrook during his MVP season, marveling at how he seemed to be everywhere at once, pulling down rebounds I had no business expecting a point guard to get, then leading the fast break and making the perfect pass. That season he averaged 31.6 points, 10.7 rebounds, and 10.4 assists per game—numbers that still boggle my mind when I think about them.

The mental aspect is what separates the occasional triple-double performers from the consistent ones. You need what I like to call "statistical awareness"—knowing where you stand without becoming obsessed with it. It's like having a dashboard in your head that's constantly monitoring your points, rebounds, and assists, but never letting that dashboard dictate your decisions. This delicate balance reminds me again of Obiena's situation—he knows exactly what he needs to clear (5.85m), but if he focuses too much on that number instead of his technique, he'll never make it. Similarly, if a player becomes too fixated on getting those last two rebounds for a triple-double, they might abandon their defensive assignment and cost their team easy points.

I've always believed that certain positions have natural advantages when it comes to triple-doubles. As a former point guard myself, I found assists came naturally, but rebounds required conscious effort. Meanwhile, our power forward could grab 10 rebounds in his sleep but needed to work on his passing. The modern NBA has blurred these positional lines beautifully—we now have centers like Jokić who might be the best passers in the league, and wings like Luka Dončić who control every aspect of the offense. The evolution of the game has made triple-doubles more common, but no less impressive. When Jason Kidd was playing, he'd get maybe 4 or 5 triple-doubles a season—now we have players threatening to average them for entire seasons.

The preparation begins long before game day. Studying opponent tendencies tells you where rebounds might carom, which defenders are likely to leave shooters open, and when to attack the basket versus looking for the pass. I remember developing what I called "triple-double opportunities"—specific situations where I could realistically pile up stats without forcing things. Early game, I'd focus on setting up teammates and grabbing defensive rebounds. Middle quarters, I'd look for my own scoring opportunities. And if I was close late, well, that's when knowing your opponents really paid off. It's not manipulation—it's intelligent basketball.

At the end of the day, learning how to achieve a triple double in the NBA comes down to something simpler than complex strategies or physical gifts. It's about playing the right way—the complete way. The players who consistently achieve this milestone are those who understand that basketball isn't about individual accomplishments, but about doing whatever your team needs to win. The triple-double becomes a byproduct of excellence, not the goal itself. And much like Obiena striving for that 5.85m qualification standard, sometimes the difference between good and great isn't a massive gap, but a series of small adjustments that add up to something extraordinary. The beauty of basketball is that those small adjustments—that extra pass, that box-out, that smart cut—can transform an ordinary performance into something people remember for years.