Who Created the NBA: The Untold Story Behind Basketball's Iconic League
I remember the first time I walked into the Basketball Hall of Fame and saw that original NBA founding document behind glass—the signatures of the eleven team owners who dared to dream big in 1946. Most basketball fans know the league exists, but few understand the fascinating drama behind its creation. The truth is, the NBA wasn't born from a single visionary but emerged from a perfect storm of post-war opportunity, business savvy, and pure basketball passion. What many don't realize is that the league almost collapsed multiple times in its first five years before finding its footing.
The story really begins with the Basketball Association of America (BAA), which launched on June 6, 1946, at New York's Commodore Hotel. I've always been fascinated by the timing—World War II had just ended, and America was hungry for new entertainment. The eleven founding franchises each put up what would be about $200,000 in today's money, a massive risk considering professional basketball was still largely a regional sport. What struck me during my research was how many of these owners already owned hockey arenas—they needed something to fill dates when the ice wasn't in use. The practical business reality contrasts sharply with the romantic notion of creating a basketball legacy.
Walter Brown, owner of the Boston Celtics, once said something that stuck with me: "We're either the biggest visionaries or the biggest fools in sports history." The early years proved challenging—teams traveled by train, players had day jobs, and the league nearly merged with its rival, the National Basketball League (NBL), in 1948. That merger was crucial—it brought in small-market teams and more importantly, the Minneapolis Lakers with George Mikan, the league's first true superstar. I've always believed Mikan doesn't get enough credit for saving the early NBA—his dominant play gave casual fans a reason to buy tickets.
The 1949 BAA-NBL merger created what we now know as the NBA, but the transition was messy. Only seventeen of the twenty-two combined teams survived that first season. The financial losses were staggering—I've seen estimates suggesting the league lost nearly $5 million in its first three years combined. What's remarkable is how the owners persisted despite the red ink. They understood something fundamental about American sports culture that was about to shift dramatically.
Television changed everything. The first NBA national broadcast in 1953 was a watershed moment, though at the time nobody realized its significance. The league office, under Commissioner Maurice Podoloff, made brilliant decisions about which markets to keep and which to abandon. I've always admired how they recognized that New York, Boston, and Philadelphia had to be strong franchises for the league to survive—a lesson other sports leagues would later learn the hard way.
The introduction of the 24-second shot clock in 1954 revolutionized the game, but what fascinates me is how resistant some owners were to the change. Syracuse Nationals owner Danny Biasone, who pioneered the concept, had to practically beg other owners to try it. The data showed scoring increased by nearly 40% in the first season after its implementation—proof that innovation could save the product. Sometimes I wonder if today's league would be as open to such radical changes.
What many historians overlook is how close the NBA came to folding in the late 1950s. The Celtics dynasty was great for Boston but terrible for competitive balance—eight straight championships nearly killed national interest. The league dropped to just eight teams by 1957, its lowest point. I've spoken with children of original owners who recalled their parents considering pulling out entirely. The turnaround, when it came, was dramatic—the arrival of Wilt Chamberlain and Bill Russell created must-see rivalries that captured the public's imagination.
Looking back now with the benefit of hindsight, the creation of the NBA seems inevitable, but it was anything but. The league survived through a combination of stubbornness, timing, and occasional luck. I'm particularly drawn to the stories of the forgotten figures—the public relations managers who convinced newspapers to cover games, the trainers who kept players healthy on brutal road trips, the secretaries who kept the league office running. Their contributions matter as much as any owner's signature.
The NBA's creation story teaches us that great institutions aren't born fully formed—they evolve through struggle and adaptation. The founding owners weren't necessarily basketball purists, but their business acumen created the foundation for what would become a global phenomenon. Every time I watch a game today, I think about those eleven owners in 1946 taking a chance on a sport that many considered a minor attraction. A legend was born from there, not through grand design but through persistence, adaptation, and belief in a game that would eventually capture the world's imagination.