Discovering Who Was the First NBA Champion and Their Historic Journey

When I first started researching the origins of the NBA, I was genuinely surprised to discover how many basketball fans don't actually know who won that very first championship. The Philadelphia Warriors' 1947 victory represents such a fascinating starting point for what would become a global phenomenon. What strikes me most about that inaugural season isn't just who won, but how dramatically different the entire basketball landscape was compared to today's meticulously planned NBA spectacles.

I recently came across a quote from a contemporary player discussing the relentless nature of modern basketball schedules, and it made me reflect on those early days. The player mentioned, "It's not like the local tournaments we play where you can stick to a specific seven and then get to rest 4-5 days before the next game. Here, every game you play and we're expected to play with anyone who is put inside the court." This sentiment, though describing today's game, perfectly captures the chaotic energy of that first NBA season—or rather, the BAA season, since the NBA name wouldn't exist until 1949. The Philadelphia Warriors, led by the formidable Joe Fulks, played through a schedule that demanded constant adaptation and resilience, much like today's players, though with far less glamour and considerably lower stakes financially.

The Warriors' journey to that first championship was anything but straightforward. They finished the regular season with a solid 35-25 record, good enough for second place in the Eastern Division, but what truly amazes me is the playoff structure they navigated. Unlike today's best-of-seven series format that allows for strategic adjustments, their path included a best-of-three semifinal against the St. Louis Bombers, which they won 2-1, followed by a best-of-seven championship series against the Chicago Stags. The final series went the full distance, with the Warriors clinching the title in game five with a tight 83-80 victory. What I find particularly compelling is how small the margins were—a single possession could have changed the entire narrative of NBA history.

Joe Fulks, nicknamed "Jumping Joe," was undoubtedly the star of that team and someone I consider one of the most underappreciated pioneers in basketball history. He averaged an astonishing 23.2 points per game in that championship series, a number that seems modest by today's standards but was revolutionary in an era where teams often didn't break 80 points. Fulks pioneered the jump shot at a time when most players still relied on set shots, and watching grainy footage of his playing style, I'm always struck by how modern his approach seems compared to his contemporaries. His 63-point game earlier that season stood as a scoring record for over a decade, demonstrating just how far ahead of his time he truly was.

The economic realities of that first championship season are almost unimaginable today. The entire Warriors roster split a championship bonus of just $2,000, which translates to roughly $25,000 in today's money—less than what many current players make per game. The league itself operated with 11 teams, several of which folded within a few years, and player salaries were modest enough that most athletes needed offseason jobs. I sometimes wonder if those pioneers could have imagined the global empire the NBA would become, with its current media rights deals worth over $24 billion and superstar athletes earning tens of millions annually.

What I admire most about that 1947 Warriors team is their adaptability—a quality that resonates deeply with me both as a basketball historian and as someone who appreciates organizational resilience. Coach Eddie Gottlieb didn't have the luxury of specialized role players or the sophisticated analytics that modern coaches rely on. He worked with what he had, often making in-game adjustments based on pure basketball instinct. The team's rotation frequently changed due to injuries and scheduling demands, forcing players to develop chemistry with different lineup combinations constantly. This reminds me of that contemporary player's observation about being ready to play with "anyone who is put inside the court"—a challenge that existed then just as it does now, though the context has evolved dramatically.

The legacy of that first championship extends far beyond the trophy itself. The Warriors' success helped establish professional basketball as a viable spectator sport at a time when college basketball dominated the American sports consciousness. Their style of play, particularly Fulks' scoring prowess, demonstrated that professional basketball could offer something unique and exciting. Personally, I believe this first championship created a template for future NBA dynasties—the idea that teams could build around a singular scoring talent and complement them with versatile role players. This approach would be replicated by every great team that followed, from the Minneapolis Lakers with George Mikan to the modern Golden State Warriors with Stephen Curry.

Looking back at that 1947 championship through the lens of modern basketball, I'm struck by both the similarities and vast differences. The fundamental challenge remains the same—adapting to different opponents, managing a grueling schedule, and finding ways to win under pressure. But the scale has transformed beyond recognition. Those Philadelphia Warriors played before crowds of a few thousand in modest arenas, while today's NBA finals are global events watched by hundreds of millions. Yet the competitive spirit that drove Joe Fulks and his teammates mirrors what we see in today's athletes. That first championship wasn't just about establishing a winner—it was about proving that professional basketball could capture the imagination of sports fans, setting the stage for everything that followed in the seven decades since.