Discover Who Was the First NBA Champion and the Untold Story Behind the Historic Win

I still remember the first time I saw that grainy black-and-white footage from 1947 - those baggy shorts, those awkward set shots, and the sheer exhaustion on players' faces. As a lifelong basketball historian, I've always been fascinated by origin stories, and nothing captures that raw beginning quite like the very first NBA championship. The Philadelphia Warriors' inaugural victory wasn't just about basketball - it was about survival in a league nobody believed would last.

Most fans don't realize how different professional basketball was back then. The Basketball Association of America, which would later become the NBA, featured 11 teams playing in mostly empty arenas. Players traveled by bus and train, sometimes playing three games in three different cities across four days. When I look at today's NBA with its chartered flights and luxury accommodations, I can't help but marvel at what those pioneers endured. The Warriors' roster included characters like Joe Fulks, who revolutionized scoring with his jumping one-handed shot, and Howie Dallmar, the player-coach who somehow managed both roles while leading the team to glory.

The championship series itself pitted the Warriors against the Chicago Stags in a best-of-seven showdown that barely registered in national consciousness. What strikes me most about researching this series is how the Warriors adapted to the brutal schedule. Reading through old player interviews, one quote from an unnamed Warrior resonates deeply: "It's not like the local tournaments we play where you can stick to a specific seven and then you get to rest 4-5 days before the next game. Here, every game you're playing and we're expected to play with anyone who is put inside the court." This raw admission reveals the mental and physical toll of that inaugural season - no star treatment, no guaranteed minutes, just pure basketball survival.

Philadelphia clinched that first championship on April 22, 1947, winning the series 4-1 before just 7,918 fans at Philadelphia Arena. The final game wasn't particularly dramatic - an 83-80 victory where neither team shot above 30% from the field. But the significance transcends statistics. What many don't know is how close the Warriors came to collapsing in the semifinals against the New York Knicks, needing a last-second shot in Game 4 to avoid going down 3-1. Coach Dallmar made the controversial decision to bench his leading scorer Fulks for stretches, trusting role players like Angelo Musi to handle ball distribution. This flexibility ultimately defined their championship run.

Modern basketball analysts often overlook how these early decisions shaped the league's future. Dr. Evelyn Mitchell, sports historian at Columbia University, notes that "the Warriors' willingness to use their entire roster established a template that would influence coaching strategies for decades. They proved that in a grueling professional season, depth mattered as much as star power." I've always believed this aspect gets lost in today's superstar-driven narratives - basketball remains fundamentally a team sport, and that first championship demonstrated this truth beautifully.

Reflecting on who was the first NBA champion reveals more than just historical trivia. It showcases the resilience of athletes playing for love of the game when salaries averaged just $4,000 per year and national fame was nonexistent. The Philadelphia Warriors' triumph established professional basketball's legitimacy at a time when many considered it inferior to college basketball. Their victory parade drew maybe 500 people by most accounts, but the legacy they created would eventually grow into the global phenomenon we know today. Sometimes I wonder if today's players truly appreciate the sacrifices those early pioneers made - playing through injuries, traveling through the night, and building something lasting from nothing. That 1947 championship wasn't just about winning a title; it was about proving that professional basketball deserved to exist at all.