Welcome back to the deep dive. You know, usually
when we talk about the NBA, we're obsessed with
the flashy stuff. Oh, absolutely. Steph Curry
logo threes, the LeBron Tomahawk dunks, you know,
the guy dropping 50 points in a night. We are,
I think, conditioned to just look at the ball
going into the hoop. Well, that's what sells
the ticket. That's what makes the highlight reels
on social media. It is. But today. I want to
flip the script completely. I want to look at
the other end of the floor. Okay. I want to talk
about the guys who wake up in the morning and
decide, no one is scoring on me today. We are
digging into the history of the NBA Defensive
Player of the Year Award. The DPLY. And honestly,
looking at this stack of notes and research you've
built together. This isn't just a list of winners.
This feels like a history of, I don't know, physical
warfare. It really is. It's the grind with a
capital G. And you're right, it's often the forgotten
side of the game. But this award, which started
back in the 1982 -83 season, is the highest honor
for the guys who do the dirty work. The dirty
work. The ones who bruise their ribs taking charges,
who dive for loose balls, who stare down the
most athletic people on the planet and just say
no. I love that description. Because watching
a great defensive possession doesn't always look
pretty. It looks exhausting. It is exhausting.
And that's why this award is so special. Winning
a scoring title is about talent and, you know,
opportunity. Winning Defensive Player of the
Year is about will. It's about a refusal to concede.
Okay, so we have a lot to get through today.
We've got, I see here, voting scandals, some
weird anomalies, the absolute legends of the
sport, and even the new rules about how many
games you actually have to play to qualify. A
packed list. But before we get to the names,
and there are some massive names here, how does
this thing actually work? Because I feel like
MVP voting gets all the headlines, all the speculation.
Who decides who the best defender is? Is it the
coaches? That's what a lot of people assume,
right? Because they're the ones dissecting the
game film every night. But it's actually a media
panel. A media, okay. Yeah, it's about 124 sports
writers and broadcasters from across the United
States and Canada. Okay, so 124 writers. Are
they just picking one name out of a hat? Or is
it like a simple majority vote? No, and this
is where the math gets a little spicy and honestly
a little bit fairer. It's a weighted system.
Each voter casts a ballot for first, second and
third place. OK, walk me through the math on
that. How does that work? So a first place vote
gets you five points. Second place is three points.
And third place is just one point. The winner
is simply the player with the highest accumulated
point total at the end. So it's not even necessarily
the guy with the most first place votes. Exactly.
And that's the key. Think about a scenario where
the voting is really, really fractured. You could
theoretically have a player who is everyone's
second choice. The guy who everyone agrees is.
really, really good, but maybe not their absolute
favorite. The consensus guy. Right. And he could
sneak a win over a guy who is maybe more polarizing.
It allows for a consensus to build, a reward
and consistency across the entire electorate
rather than just having a passionate niche following.
It's like a rain choice election for the toughest
guy in the building. Exactly. It filters out
the noise. And recently, the building got a new
name. As of the 2022 -23 season, you aren't just
winning the DPOY trophy anymore. You are officially
winning the Hakeem Olajuwon trophy. The dream.
The dream. And we will get to why it's named
after him later in the show because his 1994
season is, well, it's practically a statistical
impossibility, but naming it after Hakeem sets
a standard. Right. It says, this isn't just about
steals and it isn't just about blocks. It's about
dominance. I love that they're honoring the history
like that. Speaking of dominance. Yeah. Let's
open up the history books. Because when I look
at the list of winners you sent over, there is
a very, very clear hierarchy. There's a VIP section
at the very top. The four -timer club. Right.
In over 40 years of this award, only three human
beings have ever won it four times. That's it.
Just three. It is the Mount Rushmore of defense.
And what I find fascinating about these three
guys is that they could not be more different
from each other. How so? They achieved the same
result, four trophies, but they did it in completely
different eras with different body types and,
you know, completely different styles of play.
Okay, so let's start with the first one. The
guy who I think culturally put shot blocking
on the map in the 90s to come in Mutombo. No,
no, no. The finger wag. You know, you have to
talk about the finger wag. The finger wag is
iconic. But think about what Mutombo represented.
He stands 7 '2". He played in an era, the 90s
and early 2000s, that was defined by isolation
scoring and heavy physical play. And he won his
four awards across three different teams. That
stood out to me in the notes. He won with the
Denver Nuggets in 95, then twice with the Atlanta
Hawks in 97 and 98, and then finally with the
Philadelphia 76ers in 2001. That is hard to do,
isn't it? Changing systems and still being the
best. It's incredibly hard. I mean, usually a
defender relies heavily on the system around
him. He needs the guards to funnel the ball a
certain way. He needs to know where the help
is coming from. But Mutombo, he was a system.
You could drop him into Denver, Atlanta, or Philly,
and instantly your paint was closed for business.
He was a mobile ecosystem of rim protection.
I remember that 2001 run with the Sixers. He
was essentially the goalie for Allen Iverson.
That's the perfect analogy. Yeah. Iverson would
gamble for steals on the perimeter. He led the
league in steals, actually, but he gambled a
lot. And if he missed... It didn't matter. Because
Mutombo was back there. Because Mutombo was standing
behind him. That longevity to be that dominant
from 1995 all the way to 2001 just speaks to
his physical durability and his intelligence.
He knew exactly where to be before the offense
did. So you have the giant Mutombo. Then you
have the second member of the four -time club.
And this guy, man, he might be my favorite player
on this entire list. Ben Wallace. Big Ben. Yes.
The fear. The afro. The going to work pistons.
2002, 2003, 2005, 2006. He almost won five in
a row. He was pure intimidation. And here's the
difference. Mutombo was seven foot two. Then
Wallace was listed at six nine. I was generous.
That was very generous. If you stood next to
him. He was maybe six, seven, six, eight on a
good day. Maybe six, seven on a good day. But
he was made of granite. He was incredibly strong.
And he had the afro, which made him look bigger.
And he played with this terrifying intensity.
But the most amazing stat about Ben Wallace.
That's it. He is the only undrafted player in
NBA history to be this dominant. Undrafted to
four -time defensive player of the year. Yeah.
That sounds like a movie script. It is. And his
style is different. Mutombo blocked shots because
he was tall. Ben Wallace blocked shots because
he outworked you. He would get switched onto
a guard on the perimeter, stay in front of them
with lateral quickness that didn't make sense
for his size, and then recover to the rim to
block a dunk. He was the heart and soul of that
Detroit team that beat the Shaq and Kobe Lakers
in the 2004 finals. That's the ultimate validation,
right? Stopping Shaq in his prime. Right. If
you can slow down prime Shaquille O 'Neal without
a double team, you deserve a trophy. And Wallace
did that. He won four times in five years. That
concentration of dominance is something we haven't
really seen since. Okay, so we have the tall
genius, Mutombo. The undrafted brawler, Wallace.
And then we have the modern entry, the third
guy with four trophies, Rudy Gobert. The Stifle
Tower. Now, Rudy gets a lot of flack on social
media these days. People say he gets played off
the floor in the playoffs or that he can't guard
the perimeter. But you cannot argue with the
hardware. Nope. 2018, 2019, 2021 with the Utah
Jazz and then 2024 with the Minnesota Timberwolves.
Four times. People misunderstand Rudy Gobert's
impact because it isn't always flashy. He isn't
wagging his finger like Mutombo and he isn't
shoving people into the third row like Ben Wallace.
Rudy Gobert wins with geometry. Geometry. Break
that down for me. What do you mean by that? I
mean, it's about angles and space. We call it
drop coverage. In the modern NBA, everyone shoots
three -pointers. The court is spaced out. It's
a nightmare to defend because you have to cover
so much ground. Rudy Gobert allows his teammates
to stay glued to those three -point shooters
because they know Rudy can handle the paint all
by himself. Okay, but what does drop coverage
actually look like in a game? So imagine a pick
and roll. The guard comes off a screen. Instead
of stepping up to meet the guard, Rudy sinks
back. He drops deep into the paint. He turns
himself into a massive obstacle between the ball
handler and the rim. He is daring the guard to
take a mid -range jumper, which is the least
efficient shot in basketball, while simultaneously
taking away the lob pass to the rolling big man.
So he's essentially guarding two people at once.
Constantly. And the advanced metrics back it
up. When Rudy Gobert is on the floor, the other
team's shooting percentage at the rim just falls
off a cliff. He forces players to make U -turns.
They drive in, see him, and dribble back out.
That doesn't show up as a block. No, but it's
a defensive win. That's the Gobert effect. Just
being there changes the entire game plan. Exactly.
He is the modern standard for rim protection.
It's interesting that all three of these guys,
Mutombo, Wallace, Gobert, are centers. It feels
like there is a do not enter sign on this club
for anyone under like 6 '10". It is definitely
a big man's award historically. But that brings
us to the anomaly. The guy who sits just below
them with three awards. Dwight Howard. Superman.
His run was different though. Mutombo and Wallace
spread their wins out a bit. Gobert too. Dwight
went back to back to back. 2009, 2010, 2011.
Three consecutive years. No one else has ever
done that. Not Motomo, not Wallace, not Gobert.
Why was that specific window so special for Dwight?
What was it about that Orlando magic era? Why
haven't we seen a three -peat since? It was peak
athleticism. Think about Dwight in Orlando. He
was wearing the cape literally in the dunk contest
and, you know, figuratively in games. He was
so bouncy. He could jump out of the gym. He covered
ground like a tennis player but hit like a linebacker.
For those three years, there was just no question.
The voters didn't even have to think about it.
It was Dwight's league. It makes you wonder if
he hadn't had those back injuries later in his
career. Could he have caught Mutombo and Wallace?
Could he have gotten a fourth or fifth? I think
he would have shattered the record. He was on
a trajectory to win five or six easily. But that
style of play, that explosive, violent leaping
on every single possession, it takes a toll on
the body. It just does. Okay, so we've established
that the Giants rule the land. But let's dig
into that bias a little bit, because when I look
at the full list of winners, I mean, I see Mark
Eaton, Manute Bull, David Robinson, Alonzo Mourning.
It's a forest of tall trees. There is a definite
positional bias, and the source material even
explicitly states this. The award is traditionally
given to big men who rebound and block shots.
Why is that? Is it just because blocks are easier
to see? Are they more tangible? That's a huge
part of it. A block is a tangible event. You
stopped a score. A rebound ends a possession.
Those are stats you can point to on a box score.
Perimeter defense, staying in front of your man,
denying the ball, fighting over screens, is much,
much harder to quantify, especially back in the
80s and 90s before we had player tracking cameras.
It's harder to see the value of a guy who just
prevents his man from getting the ball in the
first place. So let's give some love to the little
guys, or I guess the not -so -giant guys, the
Perimeter 8. Because out of all the winners since
1983... Only eight times has a perimeter player
won. It is a very short, very exclusive list.
It really is. Let's read it out. Sidney Moncrief,
Alvin Robertson, Michael Cooper, Michael Jordan,
Gary Payton, Ron Artest. Later known as Metta
World Peace. Right. Cubby Leonard and Marcus
Smart. That's it. In over 40 years, only eight
guys who play away from the basket have convinced
the voters they were the most impactful defender
in the league. And it gets even rarer if you
look at the specific position of point guard.
Oh, the point guard drought. This is fascinating
to me. How bad is it? Only two point guards have
ever won this award. Two. Ever. In the entire
history of the award. Ever. Gary Payton won it
in 1996. The glove. I loved watching Peyton.
He was nasty. He was. He was known for that intense
full court pressure. He would pick you up 94
feet from the basket and just harass you, talk
trash to you the entire game. He made it personal.
And then, after Peyton in 96? And then nothing.
For decades. Until Marcus Smart won it in 2022
with the Boston Celtics. Wait, so that's a 26
-year gap between point guards winning the award?
26 years. It shows you how incredibly hard it
is for a small guard to impact the game enough
to override the value of a dominant rim protector.
Peyton and Smart were anomalies. They were so
tenacious, so physically disrupting that they
forced the voters to pay attention. How did Smart
do it? Marcus Smart, for example, was incredible
at drawing charges, diving for loose balls, getting
steals. He created chaos. He was a wrecking ball
on the perimeter. It's ironic, though, isn't
it? Because the award didn't start with a big
man. That is the great irony of the DPOY history.
The very first one. The inaugural winner in the
1982 -83 season was Sidney Moncrief, a shooting
guard for the Milwaukee Bucks. And he won the
second one too, 1983 -84. He went back to back.
Correct. And if you look at the early history,
it's pretty wild. Five of the first six winners
were perimeter players. You had Moncrief twice,
then Alvin Robertson, Michael Cooper, Michael
Jordan. Why did it start that way? Was the game
just different back then? It was. In the early
80s, you had a lot more isolation play on the
perimeter. The strategy was often give the ball
to your best scorer and get out of the way. So
if you had a guy like Moncrief who could just
shut down the other team's best scorer one on
one, that felt like the most valuable defensive
thing. It was a more direct matchup. Exactly.
But then as the 90s approached, defenses became
more sophisticated. Team concepts became more
important and the value of the center, the anchor
who cleans everything up, became undeniable.
Mark Eaton won his second. Dennis Rodman started
winning. big man era really began. Speaking of
Michael Jordan, we need to talk about the unicorns,
the players who didn't just defend, but did absolutely
everything. The intersection of offense and defense.
This is where you find the true legends of the
sport. The guys who are just, you know, on another
level entirely. We're talking about players who
have won both the NBA MVP and the defensive player
of the year in their careers. It's a club of
five. Michael Jordan, Hakeem Olajuwon, David
Robinson, Kevin Garnett, and Giannis Antetokounmpo.
That's a good list. I mean, if you're on the
list with those five names, you're doing something
right with your life. That's the pantheon. But
let's narrow it down even further. How many of
them won both awards in the same season? That
is the holy grail of individual achievement in
a season. Only three players have ever done that.
Okay, let's break them down. First up, Michael
Jordan, 1988. The 1988 season for Jordan is,
well, statistically, it just doesn't make any
sense. It's an outlier in every possible way.
Tell me about it. I know he scored a lot, but
put it in perspective for me. So he wins Defensive
Player of the Year. That means he's locking people
down, jumping passing lanes, playing heavy minutes
on the defensive end, total commitment. But in
that same season, he also wins the scoring title.
He was the best scorer and the best defender
in the entire league. And not just the best scorer.
He averaged 35 point Zua points per game. Wait,
35? 35 points. He is the only player to win DPOY
while averaging over 30 points per game. And
he wasn't just over 30, he averaged 35. Think
about the energy expenditure. Yeah. To carry
the offensive load of 35 points a night, taking
all those shots, driving to the rim, getting
fouled, and still have the energy and focus to
lock down opponents enough to win DPOY, it's
superhuman conditioning. That is the definition
of a two -way player. I mean, most guys today,
if they score 35, they're taking a few plays
off on defense. It's just human nature. Exactly.
Jordan didn't rest. So that's Jordan in 88. Then
we have Hakeem Olojuwon in 1994. This is why
the trophy is named after him. Jordan had the
scoring title, but Hakeem had all the hardware.
Unpack the 1994 season for us. I was looking
at this, and it's just a laundry list of awards.
It's absurd. So in the 1993 -94 season, Hakeem
Olojuwon wins the NBA MVP. Check. He wins the
Defensive Player of the Year. Check. But then
he goes to the playoffs. It doesn't stop. And
he wins the championship. He wins the NBA championship
with the Houston Rockets, and he wins the finals
MVP. So MVP, DPOY, finals MVP championship, all
in one year. He is the only player in history
to accomplish that quadruple feat in a single
season. It is the perfect season. Complete dominance
on both ends of the floor in the regular season
and the postseason. That explains everything.
That's why the league decided to put his name
on the trophy. It's the gold standard. There's
no other argument to be made. Exactly. Jordan
was flashy, but Hakim in 94 was the most complete
center we've ever seen. And the third member
of the same season club is Giannis Antetokounmpo,
who did it recently in the 2019 -20 season. The
Greek freak? He plays that free safety role where
he roams around and helps everywhere. It's a
modern version of what Hakeem did, just from
the forward position. So Jordan, Hakeem, Giannis,
that's the list. That's the whole list. Now I
want to get into some of the weird stuff, the
quirks. Because when you have 124 media members
voting, sometimes things get messy. there have
been some very, very confusing outcomes, specifically
regarding the all -defensive team. Right. You
would assume that if you were voted the defensive
player of the year, the single best defender
in the league, you would automatically be on
the all -defensive first team. You would assume
that. It seems logical. It's the only thing that
makes sense. But it hasn't always happened. There
are four times in history where the DPOY was
snubbed from the first team. It happened to Alvin
Robertson in 1986, Dikembe Mutombo in 1995, Tyson
Chandler in 2012. And Marc Gasol in 2013. Wait,
let's pause on Marc Gasol in 2013. He was named
Defensive Player of the Year, but he was on the
second team all defense. Correct. How is that
even possible? What is the logic there? Here
is your trophy for being the best defender in
the league, but we don't think you're one of
the top five. It comes down to who is doing the
voting. See, the defensive player of the year
is voted on by the media, like we discussed.
But prior to 2014, the all -defensive teams were
voted on by the NBA coaches. Ah, so you had two
different voting bodies. A difference of opinion
between the writers and the coaches. Exactly.
In 2013, the media looked at the advanced stats
and the Memphis Grizzlies' top -ranked defense
and said, Marc Gasol is the anchor. He is the
player of the year. But the coaches... who value
different things, maybe more one -on -one lockdown
defense, or maybe they were just voting on reputation
for guys like Tyson Chandler or Joakim Noah Put
-Gasol on the second team. That is a fantastic
cocktail party fact, the disconnect between the
press box and the bench. It is. And since 2014,
the voting for all defensive teams changed to
the media as well. So that specific anomaly is
less likely to happen now. But for a while, it
was a real source of confusion and debate. OK,
let's look at the teams. We talked about Mutombo
traveling around. But which franchises are the
factories for defenders? Which teams just churn
these guys out? If you want to see good defense,
you have to look at the history of the Detroit
Pistons. The bad boys and the going to work crew.
They have six awards total. Dennis Rodman won
two there in 1990 and 1991. And of course, Ben
Wallace won his four there. That makes sense.
Detroit prides itself on that identity, that
whole Detroit versus everybody thing. It's a
blue collar city and they love blue collar basketball.
Defense is effort, and Detroit fans appreciate
effort more than flash. It's in their DNA. Then
you have the Utah Jazz with five awards. Mark
Eaton won two in the 80s, the mechanic who became
a 7 '4 center, and Rudy Gobert won three while
he was there. So Utah is the land of the giant
defensive centers. They build their defense inside
out. That's their brand. And then the San Antonio
Spurs with four, Alvin Robertson, David Robinson,
and Cowie Leonard with two. It's interesting
that the Spurs winners are spread across positions.
Robertson was a guard, Robinson a center, Cowie
a small forward. It reflects the Spurs system,
doesn't it? It's less about a type of player
and more about a philosophy. It does. The Greg
Popovich era was all about adaptability. They
didn't just have one way to defend. They had
a culture of defense. If you didn't play defense,
you wouldn't play for the Spurs, period. Now,
I want to shift gears to the modern era. We mentioned
the name change to the Hakeem Olajuwon Trophy,
but the players winning it have changed too,
specifically where they come from. Oh, the international
shift in this award is profound. It's one of
the biggest stories of the award's history. If
you look at the early years, it was almost entirely
American -born players. Right. Moncrief, Eaton,
Cooper, Jordan, all American. But look at the
list now. Hakeem Olajuwon was the pioneer, born
in Nigeria. Though he did naturalize as a U .S.
citizen in 93, right? Yes. But then you have
Dikembe Mutombo from Zaire, which is now the
Democratic Republic of the Congo. And then the
European wave hit hard. It really did. Marc Gasol
became the first European winner in 2013. He's
from Spain. Then Joachim Noah the very next year,
2014, representing France, though he has Swedish
roots and U .S. ties as well. And then Rudy Gobert,
also from France. And Giannis from Greece. Why
do you think that is? Why are international players
so dominant on the defensive end now? I think
it comes down to fundamentals. In a lot of European
academies, they teach the game differently. They
teach positioning, footwork, and team defense
from a very, very young age. Whereas in the U
.S.? In the U .S., the AAU circuit often rewards
individual scoring and raw athleticism. But guys
like Gobert and Gasol grew up learning how to
rotate, how to be in the right spot two steps
ahead of the play. And also, you simply have
a global talent pool now. The best athletes in
the world are playing basketball, regardless
of where they were born. It really shows that
defense isn't just an American grit thing anymore.
The international academies are producing elite
rim protectors and defensive minds. Absolutely.
The global game has taken over the DPOY list,
and I don't see that trend reversing. There is
one more major change we have to discuss, and
this one isn't about where you're from. It's
about how much you play. the so -called load
management rules. This is the biggest structural
change to the award in decades. Effective with
the 2023 -24 season, the NBA implemented a 65
-game threshold. So to even be eligible for Defensive
Player of the Year or MVP or any of the major
awards, you have to play in at least 65 games.
Correct. This was part of the new collective
bargaining agreement. The league and the networks
wanted to curb the trend of star players sitting
out for rest. especially in nationally televised
games. And it's not just checking into the game,
right? You can't just sub in, commit a foul to
keep your streak alive, and then leave. No, they
thought of that. To receive credit for a game
played, you must be on the floor for at least
20 minutes. 20 minutes. That's a real shift.
That's a serious amount of playing time. It is.
And there are some small exceptions. They allow
for two near misses. So if you play between 15
and 19 minutes in a game, maybe you get in foul
trouble early or roll an ankle, that can count
towards your 65, but only twice. So basically
you have to be available. Availability is now
a codified rewarded skill. If you are the best
defender in the world when you play, but you
only play 58 games, you cannot win the award.
Are there any exceptions for major legitimate
injuries? There is a season -ending injury protection.
If a player suffers a legitimate season -ending
injury, they can be eligible with 62 credited
games. And there's some vague provisions for
bad faith circumstances, but generally the rule
is strict. You have to play. This changes the
strategy for teams and players, doesn't it? Yeah.
We talked about Dwight Howard's incredible burst
of dominance. But going forward, a player like
Evan Mobley, who's the most recent winner mentioned
in our notes for 2025, has to manage his body
not just to be effective, but to hit that 65
number. It creates a different kind of pressure.
You can't just strategically rest on back -to
-backs if you want the hardware. You have to
be out there grinding it out. Even on nights,
you don't feel 100%. And frankly, for an award
that's all about the grind, that feels well it
feels appropriate i agree defense is about effort
And showing up is the first part of the effort.
If you aren't on the court, you aren't stopping
anyone. So let's just recap what we've unpacked
here. It's a lot. We have the legends, the four
timers, Mutombo, Wallace, Gobert. We have the
extreme rarities, the guards like Gary Payton
and Marcus Smart. We have the unicorns like Hakeem
and Jordan winning everything in sight. And we
have the evolution of the voters mindset from
loving perimeter stoppers in the 80s to obsessing
over blocks in the 90s and 2000s to the modern
analytics era where we value. you things like
drop coverage and overall defensive versatility.
It's such a rich history. Yeah. But I want to
leave you with a final thought, and I'd love
your take on this. Go ahead. We look at the dominance
of the Detroit Pistons and the Utah Jazz. We
look at the four -time winners. These were eras
of sustained, specific defensive systems. But
with this new 65 -game rule and just the sheer
pace and space of the modern game. Do you think
we will ever see a three -peat like Dwight Howard's
again? That's a great question. Is the physical
toll of modern defense just too high to sustain
that absolute peak level for 65 -plus games three
years in a row? That is the big question hanging
over the league. I mean, the game is faster,
the court is more spread out, defenders have
to cover more ground than Marquette never dreamed
of. Asking a player to do that at an elite, award
-winning level for 65 games three years straight.
It might be the hardest record to break in the
modern NBA. The human body has limits. It might
be. We might see more variety in the winners
list going forward simply because the grind is
harder than ever. It's almost built to prevent
dynasties now. Or we might find the next unicorn
who redefines those limits. Someone like a Victor
Wambanyama or a Chet Holmgren who has the size
and skill to change the geometry all over again.
That's the beauty of the NBA. You never know
who is coming next. But until then, we honor
the wall. The grinders. The Hakeem Olajuwon trophy
winners. The ones who stopped the ball. Thanks
for listening to this deep dive. Keep digging
deep, and we'll catch you on the next one.