Here’s a bold statement: The NBA’s 65-game rule is rewriting history—and not in a good way. But here’s where it gets controversial: Is it fair to let a single rule overshadow the undeniable impact of the league’s most dominant players? Let’s dive in.
This season, Cade Cunningham is making a strong case for the NBA Most Valuable Player award. Leading the league in total assists, ranking fifth in Value Over Replacement Player (VORP), and eighth in win shares, he’s undoubtedly a standout. Yet, let’s be honest—he’s not on the same tier as Shai Gilgeous-Alexander, Nikola Jokić, or Victor Wembanyama. And this is the part most people miss: Cunningham’s MVP chances hinge on a rule from the 2023 NBA Collective Bargaining Agreement that limits award eligibility to players who’ve played at least 20 minutes in 63 games. Miss more than 17 games? You’re out of the running.
This rule was designed to curb load management—the practice of star players sitting out games for rest—which has skyrocketed in recent years. While it’s worked to some extent (think Kawhi Leonard’s reduced absences), it’s causing more harm than good. Take Jokić, Wembanyama, and Gilgeous-Alexander: they’re walking a tightrope, with only one, three, and six games to spare, respectively, before being disqualified. Meanwhile, legends like Giannis Antetokounmpo, Stephen Curry, and LeBron James have already surpassed the 17-game limit. Bold claim: This is the first time since his rookie season in 2004 that LeBron won’t make an All-NBA team. Sure, one season might seem trivial for a player of his caliber, but these accolades shape legacies long after retirement.
History offers a stark contrast. In the 1996-1997 season, Shaquille O’Neal missed 31 games due to knee injuries but still averaged 26.2 points and 12.5 rebounds per game, ranking sixth in Box Plus/Minus and eighth in Defensive Rating. He was rightfully named to the All-NBA Third Team because, at its core, these honors should celebrate a player’s dominance and value—not just their availability. From 1995-96 to 1998-99, O’Neal never played more than 60 games in a season yet made an All-NBA team every year. Even in 2005-2006, when he fell short of the 65-game mark, he still earned a spot on the All-NBA First Team. These appearances are pillars of his legacy as one of the greatest centers ever.
Applying this rule to the MVP award is a different beast. Only two MVPs have played fewer than 65 games in a regular season, excluding lockout-shortened years. Bill Walton in 1977-1978 is the prime example. He led the Portland Trail Blazers to a 50-10 record before a season-ending injury with 22 games left. The Blazers went 8-14 without him, yet his MVP win stands as a testament to his impact. Under a 65-game rule? His dominance would’ve been erased.
Fast-forward to this season: Jokić and Gilgeous-Alexander dominate nearly every metric—win shares, Player Efficiency Rating (PER), VORP. If either falls short of the 65-game mark, their value goes unrecognized. If Cunningham wins simply because he’s the healthiest option, future fans might question whether health—not skill—was the deciding factor. Controversial question: Shouldn’t the MVP award prioritize impact over availability?
Now, Jokić and Gilgeous-Alexander face a brutal choice: rest for the playoffs or push through for awards, recognition, and contract bonuses. In the playoffs, stars must give 100% every other day from April to June. Last season, Jayson Tatum and Tyrese Haliburton suffered season-ending Achilles injuries in the later rounds—a grim reminder of the postseason’s toll. What if Jokić plays out the regular season, wins MVP, but then suffers a career-altering injury in the playoffs? Food for thought: Is the 65-game rule worth risking the health of the league’s brightest stars?
The rule is too rigid. Games played should factor into award decisions, but they shouldn’t be the sole criterion. A better solution? Set a minimum minutes-played threshold to measure value through volume, not just quantity. The NBA must acknowledge the grueling 82-game schedule and the increasing athleticism of the game, which are driving up injuries among star players. While addressing load management was necessary, the league must now tackle the alarming injury rate before this rule permanently alters the history books.
Final thought-provoking question: Should the NBA prioritize preserving player health and legacy over strict attendance rules? Let’s hear your take in the comments—agree or disagree, the debate is wide open.
