Every spring, like clockwork—but not really because sometimes it feels like the season never ends—the NBA unveils a lineup of shiny trophies. The anticipation? Palpable. Like that jittery feeling before hitting “send” on a risky text.

You’ve got legends-in-the-making hoping to cement their legacies. Coaches pacing the sidelines like stressed-out chess masters. And fans—oh, fans—foaming at the mouth over who should’ve won versus who actually did.

Sure, these awards aren’t the end-all (rings matter more, right?). But they are story markers, signposts in the chaos of an 82-game blur. They immortalize effort. They spark barbershop debates. And they—let’s be honest—help pad those Hall of Fame résumés.

The Lineup: The Main NBA Awards You Need to Know

Let’s cut to the chase. Here are the awards that keep NBA Twitter up at 3 a.m.:

• Most Valuable Player (MVP) – Basically the crown jewel. It’s the Oscar of the NBA. Usually.
• Defensive Player of the Year (DPOY) – The one for the brick wall types. Think sweat, grit, and denial.
• Rookie of the Year (ROY) – New kids on the block, making noise—sometimes too much, sometimes not enough.
• Sixth Man of the Year – For the ones who don’t start, but finish.
• Most Improved Player (MIP) – For the underdogs who leveled up, Dragon Ball Z-style.
• Coach of the Year (COY) – Shoutout to the clipboard holders who aren’t yelling just for fun.
• Clutch Player of the Year – New kid on the award block. It’s for the dudes who, somehow, make it happen when the clock wants to quit.

Spoiler alert: These aren’t handed out willy-nilly. They’re mostly voted on by a bunch of very smart people (media folks, analysts, etc.)—although occasionally you wonder if someone filled out their ballot half-asleep on a red-eye from Phoenix.

MVP: The Award Everyone Thinks They Deserve

Okay. Deep breath. MVP discourse is intense. It’s not just “who’s the best.” It’s “who meant the most,” and that definition? Changes every single year.

One season, it’s all about efficiency. Next, it’s about vibes and win shares. In 2025, it was Nikola Jokić again (probably—I say this with a knowing nod and emotional exhaustion). The guy’s like if a ballerina had post moves. He passes like a trickster god. It’s poetry. Or witchcraft. Or both.

And don’t sleep on Shai Gilgeous-Alexander. Smooth like melted dark chocolate, but cuts defenses like a shard of broken glass.

Criteria? Ish like this:

• Consistency (no disappearing acts)
• Team performance (even if that’s not always fair)
• Star power mixed with sweat equity

And it changes—because humans vote, and humans are… let’s say, whimsical.

DPOY: The Quiet Killers

Defense doesn’t sell jerseys. But it should. The Defensive Player of the Year award goes to that one guy who ruins your night. Every. Possession.

Guys like Evan Mobley, who moves like a shadow on defense. Or Dyson Daniels, whose arms seem to exist in multiple dimensions. Or Draymond Green, who might already be yelling about being left off this list. (Respect.)

What matters:

• Defensive stats—sure.
• Team defense—important.
• But also: the eye test. Does he make you feel like you’re stuck in quicksand? That counts.

ROY: The Spark of Something New

The Rookie of the Year isn’t just about numbers. It’s a vibe. It’s watching a guy take his first NBA steps like a baby giraffe—then suddenly dunk on someone’s soul.

Stephon Castle? Ice in his veins already. Jaylen Wells? A midrange jumper smoother than a Billie Eilish bridge. These rookies don’t always come in polished, but the ones who shine through the chaos—they get remembered.

Future All-Stars? Maybe. Future memes? Definitely.

Sixth Man, MIP, Coach, Clutch: The “Other Guys” (Who Really Matter)

Let’s break these down like a mixtape interlude:

• Sixth Man of the Year: You ever see a guy drop 20 off the bench and flip the script? That’s Payton Pritchard—your favorite scorer’s least favorite matchup.
• Most Improved Player: This one hits different. Like watching your little cousin turn into a dunk-contest monster over one summer. It’s raw growth. It’s plot development.
• Coach of the Year: Kenny Atkinson might not scream inspiration—but man, he’s orchestrating like a jazz conductor. With zone defenses and chaos management.
• Clutch Player: That one guy who takes the last shot even when he shouldn’t—and makes it anyway. It’s new, yes. But it’s already messy. Beautifully so.

A Stumble Through History (Because It’s Worth It)

Michael Jordan. Tim Duncan. Lisa Salters crying courtside. Okay, not an award winner, but you felt that, right?

Some of these awards have a legacy so thick it feels carved in oak. Go look up the list of all-time winners on the NBA’s official history page. It’s like scrolling through a basketball time capsule.

Quick FAQs (Let’s Not Pretend You’re Not Skimming)

Q: Who votes on this stuff?
A: A panel of media folks. Some ex-players. Occasionally someone who still thinks defense is just “getting in the way.”

Q: Can one guy win multiple awards?
A: Absolutely. Has it happened? Yep. Will it again? Probably. LeBron should’ve done it more. Sorry not sorry.

Q: Snubs? Don’t even start.
A: Kobe in 2006. Dwight never winning MVP. Marcus Smart haters. Award snubs are eternal.

Ending, Or Whatever This Is

So here we are.

Another NBA season fades like a summer mixtape—loud, emotional, unforgettable. Awards will be handed out. Tears will fall. Forums will burn. And years from now, we’ll argue about whether 2025 really got it right.

Who do you think deserved MVP? Or COY? Or Clutch? Drop it in the comments—or shout into the void on Twitter. Same thing.

And hey, if this felt a little unhinged—good. So is basketball.