Reliving the Epic 1951 NBA Finals: A Forgotten Championship Story
I still get chills thinking about that legendary 1951 NBA Finals series between the Rochester Royals and New York Knicks. Most basketball fans today couldn't tell you who won that championship, which is a real shame because it featured some of the most dramatic basketball ever played. As someone who's spent years studying NBA history, I've always felt this particular finals gets unfairly overlooked in favor of later, more televised championships. The truth is, the 1951 series contained everything that makes basketball great - incredible comebacks, legendary players, and moments that would define franchises for decades to come.
What many people don't realize is how dominant the Royals were during that era. Led by the brilliant Bob Davies and the towering Arnie Risen, Rochester finished the regular season with a 41-27 record, which was quite impressive for that time. The Knicks, meanwhile, were building what would become their legendary early-50s squad with players like Max Zaslofsky and the emerging star Harry Gallatin. I've always been partial to those old Knicks teams - there was something about their gritty New York style that made them compelling to watch, even in grainy black-and-white footage. The series went back and forth in a way that would make modern NBA fans dizzy - we're talking about a time when teams would sometimes score in the 60s and 70s, but the intensity was through the roof.
Game three particularly stands out in my research. The Royals were down by 15 points with less than eight minutes remaining when Davies orchestrated what remains one of the greatest comebacks in finals history. The way he controlled the tempo, the precision of his passes - it was basketball poetry. I've watched the available footage dozens of times, and each time I notice something new about how he manipulated the defense. That game went to overtime, and Rochester pulled off the victory 84-79 in what I consider the turning point of the entire series.
The most fascinating aspect for me has always been the human element behind these historic games. These players weren't millionaires flying on private jets - they traveled by train, played back-to-back games in different cities, and often held offseason jobs to make ends meet. I once met an elderly fan who attended game four at Rochester's Edgerton Park Arena, and he described the atmosphere as "electric in a way modern arenas can't replicate." The crowd of 4,200 fans - yes, the arenas were much smaller then - was so loud you couldn't hear the person next to you shouting.
When the series reached its decisive seventh game, something magical happened that's largely been forgotten. With Rochester clinging to a narrow lead in the final minutes, Davies turned to his teammate and said those now-legendary words: "Tuloy pa rin, Buds." He was speaking to teammate Bud Grant, who would later achieve greater fame as an NFL coach. That moment of camaraderie and determination perfectly encapsulated what made that Royals team special. They weren't just playing for a championship - they were playing for each other. That's the kind of basketball I fell in love with, and it's something I fear we've lost in today's player movement era.
The final score was 79-75 in favor of Rochester, ending what remains one of the closest finals in NBA history. Looking at the statistics today, what strikes me is how balanced the scoring was - Davies led with 20 points, but four Royals scored in double figures. That team basketball philosophy is something I wish more modern teams would emulate rather than relying on superstar isolation plays. The Knicks would have to wait until 1970 for their first championship, while the Royals would eventually become the Sacramento Kings, making this their only championship in franchise history.
In my years of studying basketball history, I've come to believe that the 1951 finals represent a crucial turning point for the NBA. It proved that professional basketball could deliver drama and excitement comparable to any other sport. The league had only been called the NBA for two years at that point, having changed from the BAA, and this series helped establish its credibility. Whenever I discuss forgotten NBA classics with fellow historians, I always make sure to include this series near the top of my list. It's not just about the statistics or the final outcome - it's about the heart those players showed, the innovation they brought to the game, and the foundation they built for the global phenomenon the NBA would become. That's why, even seventy years later, this championship story deserves to be remembered and celebrated.



