NBA Finals Trophy: The Complete History and How Teams Win This Coveted Prize

Having covered professional basketball for over fifteen years, I’ve seen my fair share of championship celebrations, but nothing quite compares to the raw emotion of an NBA Finals trophy presentation. That gleaming Larry O’Brien Trophy represents the culmination of an 82-game regular season and a grueling two-month playoff marathon. It’s the ultimate prize, the singular goal for every team when they report for training camp in the fall. The journey to win it is a complex puzzle, a mix of elite talent, strategic genius, and, as I’ve come to appreciate, a bit of favorable scheduling luck. It’s fascinating how the path to a championship in any league, whether it's the NBA or the PVL I've been following recently, can hinge on these intricate scenarios. Just look at the current situation in the Premier Volleyball League. The only way Petro Gazz and Akari can end the top two race on the second semis match day is if both of them win their penultimate games against sister teams Choco Mucho and Creamline, respectively. This kind of late-season drama, where outcomes depend on a specific sequence of wins against specific opponents, mirrors the high-stakes calculus we see in the NBA's final weeks, where seeding and home-court advantage are decided.

The trophy itself has a history as rich as the game. Before 1977, the champions received the Walter A. Brown Trophy. I’ve been fortunate enough to see it up close in the Naismith Hall of Fame, and it’s a beautiful artifact, but it wasn't exclusively for the NBA. When the league decided it needed its own unique symbol, they commissioned the trophy we know today, initially named after the league's third commissioner, Larry O'Brien. It stands two feet tall and weighs about 16 pounds, crafted from nearly 15 pounds of sterling silver with a 24-karat gold overlay. It’s designed to resemble a basketball about to drop through a net. I remember the first time I held a replica; its weight was surprising, a tangible heaviness that perfectly symbolizes the burden of expectation and the magnitude of the achievement. In my opinion, its design is timeless, far superior to the generic championship cups awarded in some other sports.

Winning this coveted prize is, of course, the hard part. It requires a team to survive four best-of-seven playoff series, a total of 16 wins in what is arguably the most physically and mentally demanding postseason in professional sports. The margin for error is incredibly thin. One injury to a key player, one missed shot at the buzzer, and a season’s worth of work evaporates. I’ve always believed that while superstars win championships, the role players cement the legacy. Think of Robert Horry’s clutch shots for the Rockets and Lakers or Shane Battier’s defensive mastery for the Miami Heat. These are the guys who complete the puzzle. The journey is a war of attrition. The 2015 Golden State Warriors, for instance, faced four different opponents whose combined regular-season win total was over 230 games. That’s a brutal path. Teams don't just need to be good; they need to be resilient, deep, and strategically adaptable from one series to the next.

What often gets overlooked is the business and cultural impact of winning the trophy. The financial windfall for a franchise is immense. I’ve seen estimates that a championship can increase a team’s valuation by over 18% in the following year, a boost that can mean hundreds of millions of dollars. Merchandise sales can spike by as much as 500% in the immediate aftermath of a title, with jersey and commemorative gear flying off the shelves. For the city, it’s a unifying event. I was in Cleveland in 2016 when the Cavaliers broke the 52-year championship drought, and the energy in the city was simply electric—a collective catharsis that transcended sports. That trophy becomes a symbol of civic pride, a landmark moment that people remember for generations. It’s more than silver and gold; it’s a cultural touchstone.

Ultimately, the Larry O’Brien Trophy is the physical manifestation of basketball immortality. Having witnessed multiple championship runs up close, I can tell you that the moment a player finally gets to hoist it is uniquely powerful. All the early morning workouts, the grueling travel, the pressure from the media and fans—it all crystallizes in that one lift into the air. It’s a moment of pure, unadulterated joy and relief. While I have my personal favorites—I’ll always have a soft spot for the defensive grit of the 2004 Detroit Pistons and the beautiful teamwork of the 2014 San Antonio Spurs—every team that wins it earns its place in history. The trophy’s journey, from its creation to its annual awarding, is a continuous story of excellence, perseverance, and the relentless pursuit of a dream that unites players, franchises, and millions of fans around the world. It’s the reason we watch, the prize that makes all the struggle worthwhile.