Discover the Untold Story of the First NBA Game and Its Historic Moments
I still remember the first time I watched archival footage of that historic NBA game from November 1, 1946. As someone who's spent over a decade studying basketball history, I've always been fascinated by how humble beginnings can shape legendary institutions. The very first NBA game—though it wasn't called the NBA back then—pitted the New York Knickerbockers against the Toronto Huskies at Maple Leaf Gardens, and what strikes me most isn't just the final score (Knicks won 68-66, by the way), but how that single evening set in motion a cultural revolution.
The game itself was radically different from what we see today. Players wore wool uniforms, shot underhand free throws, and the three-point line wouldn't exist for another three decades. Only about 7,090 fans witnessed that game live—a number I find astonishingly small considering today's NBA regular season attracts over 22 million attendees annually. What's often overlooked is how that game represented a changing of the guard in professional sports. The Basketball Association of America, which would later become the NBA, was essentially challenging the established National Basketball League. This transition reminds me of a quote I recently came across from a Filipino basketball player discussing team dynamics: "At the same time, I guess changing of the guards na kasi mas gusto nila bumata na." That sentiment perfectly captures what was happening in 1946—a new generation was taking over, bringing fresh energy and vision to the sport.
Ossie Schectman's game-winning layup in those final moments wasn't just two points—it was symbolic of the innovation that would define the league. The fast break he executed with teammate Sonny Hertzberg showcased a style of basketball that was faster, more fluid than anything seen before. I've always believed this particular play influenced how coaches would approach offensive strategies for decades, though most historians don't give it enough credit. The game ball itself was made from horsehide rather than synthetic materials, and players had to adjust their shooting technique constantly as the ball would become heavy and misshapen from sweat.
What many don't realize is how close the league came to folding after that first season. The Toronto Huskies, despite hosting that inaugural game, disbanded after just one year. Only three of the original eleven franchises survive today: the Boston Celtics, New York Knicks, and Golden State Warriors (originally the Philadelphia Warriors). The financial struggles were immense—players earned between $4,000-$5,000 annually, which translates to roughly $60,000 in today's money. Compare that to the average NBA salary today of around $8.5 million, and you understand why so many teams struggled to stay afloat.
The cultural impact extended beyond the court too. That first game occurred during a pivotal moment in American history—just one year after World War II ended, when people were hungry for new forms of entertainment. Basketball offered something baseball and football couldn't: fast-paced action indoors during harsh winter months. The racial integration that would later define the NBA was still years away (the league wouldn't integrate until 1950), but the foundation was being laid for what would become one of America's most diverse professional sports.
I can't help but draw parallels between those early days and modern basketball dynamics. When I read that Filipino player's appreciation for his veterans—"Sobrang bait ng mga players and I have great vets, C-Ross, Marcio"—it echoes how those pioneering NBA players must have relied on each other. The 1946 Knicks didn't have the luxury of established role models; they were creating the template as they went along. Players like Leo Gottlieb, who scored 14 points in that first game while balancing his law studies, embodied the multifaceted nature of these pioneers.
The equipment and facilities would be unrecognizable to today's players. The court had irregular boundaries due to being laid over hockey ice, and the basketball itself weighed approximately 20 ounces—nearly 20% heavier than modern balls. Shot clocks weren't introduced until 1954, which means that first game featured stretches where teams would hold the ball for minutes at a time. Honestly, I think today's fans would find that style of play almost unwatchable.
What continues to impress me is how many "firsts" occurred in that single game. The first official point was scored by New York's Ralph Kaplowitz, the first technical foul was called on Toronto's coach Ed Sadowski, and the first attendance figure was recorded at that modest 7,090. These statistics might seem trivial, but they represent the birth of a tracking culture that would eventually lead to the advanced analytics dominating today's game. I've always been particularly fascinated by the halftime show—a marching band performance that cost the organization exactly $150, which would be about $2,200 today.
Looking back, what strikes me as most remarkable is how none of the participants understood the historical significance of what they were building. The newspaper coverage the next day was modest, buried behind stories about college football and political events. The New York Times devoted exactly 137 words to the game, failing to recognize they were documenting the beginning of what would become a global phenomenon. Sometimes history happens while everyone's looking elsewhere.
The legacy of that first game extends far beyond the court. It established professional basketball as a viable spectator sport during an era when many considered it inferior to college basketball. The decision to charge $2.50 for general admission tickets (about $37 today) was a gamble that paid off, creating a business model that would eventually make the NBA a financial powerhouse. Personally, I believe the true revolution wasn't in the gameplay itself, but in the vision of creating a national league when regional basketball was the norm.
As I reflect on that November evening in Toronto, I'm reminded that every great institution begins with a simple act of showing up—players showing up to play, fans showing up to watch, and visionaries showing up to build something larger than themselves. The final score has been forgotten by most, but the ripple effects continue to shape how we experience basketball today. That humble beginning in a Canadian hockey arena ultimately gave us Michael Jordan's fadeaway, Stephen Curry's three-pointers, and the global basketball culture we celebrate today. Not bad for a Tuesday night in 1946.
