A Complete Guide to the NBA MVP List by Year Since 1956

As I sit down to compile this comprehensive guide to the NBA MVP winners since the award's inception in 1956, I can't help but reflect on what makes an MVP truly valuable. Having followed basketball for over two decades, I've developed my own perspective on what separates the legendary seasons from the merely great ones. The MVP award represents more than just individual brilliance—it's about elevating teammates and creating winning basketball, much like what that quote from Nitura captures about teamwork being the highlight of their victory. That essence of making everyone better is what I believe separates the true MVPs from the stat-stuffers.

The early years of the MVP award tell a fascinating story of basketball's evolution. When Bob Pettitt of the St. Louis Hawks won the inaugural award in 1956, the game looked completely different. He put up what would now be considered modest numbers—25.7 points and 16.2 rebounds per game—but dominated in ways that statistics can't fully capture. What many fans don't realize is that for the first 24 years, the MVP was selected by NBA players themselves, which gave the award a different kind of credibility. Players know things about the game that stats and even coaches might miss—the little ways someone impacts winning beyond the box score. Bill Russell's 1961 MVP season perfectly illustrates this. His scoring numbers don't jump off the page by today's standards, but his defensive presence and leadership propelled the Celtics to another championship. I've always believed Russell's 1961 season represents one of the most deserving MVP selections in history because he proved that defense and leadership could be as valuable as scoring.

The 1960s belonged to Wilt Chamberlain and Bill Russell in many ways, but what fascinates me most about this era is how their contrasting styles defined the MVP conversation. Chamberlain's 1966 MVP season came when he averaged what still seems like video game numbers—33.5 points and 24.6 rebounds per game. Meanwhile, Russell focused on controlling the game defensively and making his teammates better. This fundamental debate about what constitutes "most valuable" continues to this day. Do we reward staggering individual statistics or proven team success? Personally, I lean toward the Russell school of thought—the MVP should go to the player who contributes most to winning basketball, even if their stats aren't as eye-popping. The 1970s brought us Kareem Abdul-Jabbar's six MVP awards, which remains the record to this day. His 1971 season with Milwaukee was particularly dominant—he averaged 31.7 points while leading the Bucks to their first championship. What's often overlooked is that he also shot 57.7% from the field while anchoring the defense.

When we reach the 1980s, the MVP winners read like a who's who of basketball legends. Magic Johnson, Larry Bird, and Moses Malone defined the decade with their iconic rivalries and championship pedigrees. Bird's three consecutive MVPs from 1984-1986 represent what I consider the peak of individual consistency combined with team success. His 1985 season might be the most complete campaign I've ever witnessed—28.7 points, 10.5 rebounds, and 6.6 assists per game while shooting 52.2% from the field and 42.7% from three-point range. The numbers don't even tell the full story of his basketball IQ and clutch performances. Meanwhile, Michael Jordan's five MVP awards in the 1990s underscore his complete domination of the era, though I've always felt he deserved even more recognition during his championship runs. His 1991 MVP season was particularly special because it marked his transition from phenomenal scorer to complete player who made his teammates better—exactly the kind of growth that should be rewarded.

The modern era has given us some fascinating MVP narratives that continue to evolve how we evaluate greatness. Stephen Curry's unanimous MVP in 2016 changed the conversation about what's possible from a guard, while Giannis Antetokounmpo's back-to-back awards in 2019 and 2020 demonstrated how international players have reshaped the game. Nikola Jokic's recent MVP seasons have been particularly interesting to analyze because he's redefined what we expect from a center. His 2022 campaign where he averaged 27.1 points, 13.8 rebounds, and 7.9 assists represents one of the most versatile statistical seasons in NBA history. What I appreciate about Jokic's game is how he embodies that teamwork philosophy—he makes everyone around him better through his incredible passing and basketball intelligence. Looking at the complete list, what stands out to me is how the definition of "valuable" has shifted over time. We've moved from big men dominating the paint to guards controlling the perimeter, and now to versatile players who defy traditional positions.

Having studied every MVP season in depth, I've noticed patterns that help predict future winners. Team success matters more than many analytics-focused fans want to admit—only one player since 1982 has won MVP without his team winning at least 50 games in a full season. Narrative also plays a bigger role than we typically acknowledge. Derrick Rose's 2011 MVP over LeBron James perfectly illustrates this phenomenon—Rose captured the story of a rising superstar leading his hometown team to prominence. While James had superior statistics, Rose's narrative combined with Chicago's 62-win season proved irresistible to voters. This human element in MVP voting is something I've come to appreciate over years of following the award. It's not just about algorithms and advanced metrics—it's about stories, moments, and that intangible quality of leadership that Nitura's quote about teamwork captures so well. The best MVP seasons combine individual excellence with that magical ability to elevate everyone around them, creating something greater than the sum of their parts. As the game continues to evolve, I'm excited to see how future players will redefine what it means to be the NBA's most valuable player.