Why Michael Jordan Would Still Be MVP in 2025
Just to be clear, Michael Jordan is 62 years old. Whilst he would probably get a bench spot on Charlotte’s roster at that age, we are talking about prime 1990’s MJ here.
In a league obsessed with youth, numbers, and the next big thing, the conversation around greatness has never felt more crowded. Luka Dončić is putting up video-game stats. Giannis remains a force of nature. Victor Wembanyama is literally redefining physical limits. And yet, even now, in 2025 — if Michael Jordan stepped onto an NBA court — he’d still be the Most Valuable Player in the league. SGA keeps getting closer and closer to knocking down so many records in one season this year, but every time you hear a commentator or reporter say “Shai is close to this particular feat”, they always follow it up with; “the only other player to ever do that? Michael”. They don’t even say his full name and you know.
Sounds crazy? Maybe. But only if you’re thinking about MVP as just a stat sheet contest. Jordan didn’t win five MVPs because he scored the most points or grabbed the most rebounds. He won them because he was undeniably the most important player on the planet every time he laced up his sneakers.
Put 2025 Jordan — let’s assume he’s back in peak form, like some “Last Dance”-era hybrid — in today’s league, and he immediately becomes the most dangerous man in basketball. Not just because of his skillset, but because of who he is. In a time when stars are managed with load limits and minutes restrictions, Jordan still plays every night like it’s Game 7. In a culture where everyone wants to be liked, Jordan still wants to rip your heart out and hold it up to the crowd.
The modern NBA values spacing, pace, and versatility — all things Jordan mastered before they were even buzzwords. In 2025, he’d have more room to operate than he ever did in the ‘90s. No hand-checking. No hard fouls on mid-range jumpers. He’d destroy defensive schemes that are built to contain players who don’t have his footwork, his post-up game, or his unshakable confidence.
And that’s before we even talk about the mentality. What separates Jordan isn’t just talent — it’s obsession. He was never playing for highlights. He was playing to bury you. In a league increasingly filled with “brands” and “personalities,” Jordan remains something purer — a throwback to when being the best meant more than going viral.
He’d win MVP not just because of his dominance on the court, but because of what he would demand from his teammates and instill in his franchise. Winning wouldn’t be a goal — it would be the standard, again. That kind of mindset changes organizations. It changes locker rooms. It changes legacies.
Even now, in an era defined by player empowerment, supermax deals, and social media stardom, Michael Jordan would walk into the league, look around at the hype, the numbers, the chatter — and then quietly drop 35 on your head and remind everyone that there’s greatness, and then there’s MJ.
MVP in 2025? Of course it would be him.
