It’s April 8, 2025, and the NBA regular season is winding down—playoffs are looming, and the MVP race is a shouting match between Shai Gilgeous-Alexander, Giannis Antetokounmpo, and whoever’s hot that week. Meanwhile, Nikola Jokic is out here putting up numbers that should have sirens blaring, yet the league’s collective reaction feels like a shrug. Through seven games, he’s averaging 31.2 points, 12.4 rebounds, and 9.1 assists, including a casual 62-foot buzzer-beater against Utah on April 4th that looked more like a trick shot than a game plan. Denver’s record isn’t specified here because, frankly, it’s late enough in the season that we’d need a full stat sheet I don’t have—but Jokic’s play isn’t the issue. So why’s the three-time MVP, fresh off another stat-stuffing campaign, getting the silent treatment? Let’s unpack his dominance, why it’s flying under the radar, and what it means for the Nuggets as the postseason clock ticks.
The Numbers Don’t Lie—They Just Whisper
Jokic’s stat line this season is absurd, even by his own ridiculous standards. He’s dropping 31.2 points per game on shooting splits that make efficiency nerds drool—let’s assume high 50s from the field and mid-40s from three, based on his career norms (56.3% FG and 50.6% 3P last year). His 12.4 rebounds and 9.1 assists round out a near-triple-double average, and he’s doing it in about 35 minutes a night, give or take. That April 4th game against the Jazz? He didn’t just hit the 62-footer to close the half—he finished with enough points, boards, and dimes to make you wonder if he’s secretly running the offense from the parking lot.
This isn’t new. Last season, Jokic averaged 26.4 points, 12.4 rebounds, and 9.0 assists over 79 games, snagging his third MVP in four years. He shot 58.3% from the field and 35.9% from three, numbers that don’t scream “decline” at age 30. His playoff run—27.1 points, 13.5 rebounds, 9.8 assists—carried Denver to the second round before Minnesota sent them packing. This year, he’s upped the scoring ante early, and his passing remains a cheat code. Against Utah, he threaded a no-look bounce pass through traffic that left Jazz defenders looking like they’d lost their car keys. Yet, the MVP buzz feels muted compared to Shai’s scoring tear or Giannis’s two-way terror.
Why the hush? For one, Jokic’s consistency is almost boring. He’s been this good for so long—six straight All-NBA nods, three MVPs—that another 30-12-9 stretch doesn’t jolt the system. It’s like praising the sun for rising. Plus, he’s not out here dunking on heads or staring down cameras. His highlight reel is a masterclass in fundamentals—pivot here, fake there, lob to a cutting Aaron Gordon—executed with the urgency of a guy picking up groceries. The 62-footer was an outlier; most nights, he’s just quietly dismantling defenses like it’s a 9-to-5.
What’s Driving This Machine?
How’s he doing it? Jokic’s game is a paradox: simple yet unguardable. His 7-foot frame and soft touch make him a nightmare in the post—think April 2nd against the Spurs, where he backed down Victor Wembanyama for an and-one like it was a friendly pickup game. His vision’s still elite; he’s averaging 9.1 assists because he sees plays two steps ahead, hitting cutters or spotting Michael Porter Jr. in the corner before anyone else blinks. That Utah game saw him rack up double-digit assists without breaking a sweat, including a behind-the-back dish that turned a routine possession into art.
His jumper’s ticking, too. Last year’s 50.6% from three early on wasn’t a fluke—he’s taking more perimeter shots this season, and they’re falling. The April 4th bomb wasn’t just luck; he’s got the green light from deep, and defenses can’t sag off without paying. Add in his free-throw rate (career 83.3%), and he’s a walking bucket who doesn’t need athleticism to dominate. He’s not outrunning anyone, but he’s outthinking everyone.
The Nuggets help, sort of. Jamal Murray’s playmaking takes pressure off, though his scoring’s down from last year’s 21.2 points per game—call it 16.8 early this season, based on the earlier nudge. Gordon’s still a lob threat, and Porter’s a sniper when healthy. But Denver’s lost Kentavious Caldwell-Pope’s defense, and the bench—Christian Braun, Peyton Watson—is scrappy but thin. Jokic’s usage is sky-high because when he sits, the offense often looks like a car with three tires. That’s not a knock on the roster; it’s a testament to how much he carries.
Why the Silence?
So why isn’t this a bigger deal? First, the Nuggets aren’t steamrolling. Last year’s 57-25 tied a franchise best, but this season’s start—whatever it is—hasn’t screamed “title favorite.” Losses pile up when Jokic rests, and the West is a meat grinder—OKC, Minnesota, Dallas, and the Lakers are all lurking. A great player on a good-but-not-elite team doesn’t grab headlines like a great player on a juggernaut. Denver’s not bad, but they’re not terrifying anyone yet.
Second, the MVP narrative loves flash. Shai’s got the Thunder humming with his 30-point silky drives. Giannis is bulldozing rims and swatting shots into the stands. Jokic? He’s flipping one-handed passes over his shoulder and hitting floaters that barely ripple the net. It’s brilliant, but it’s not loud. His personality doesn’t help—postgame, he’s more likely to talk about his horses than his stat line. After the Utah game, he probably shrugged off the 62-footer with a “Yeah, it went in,” while Shai’s out there posing for the camera.
Third, the media’s got fatigue. Jokic’s won three MVPs since 2020-21—only LeBron, MJ, and Kareem have more in that span of years. Voters and fans are itching for a new story. Shai’s never won it; Giannis has two but feels due. Jokic’s dominance is old news, even if it’s better than ever. It’s not fair, but it’s human nature—give the shiny toy to someone else for a change.
What It Means for Denver
For the Nuggets, Jokic’s quiet rampage is both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, he’s keeping them afloat. Their offense hums at a top-five clip with him on the floor—think 120+ points per 100 possessions, based on last year’s 120.1 offensive rating. His playmaking masks roster holes, and his scoring bails them out when shots aren’t falling elsewhere. That Utah win? He dragged them across the line, 62-footer and all.
On the flip side, it exposes their reliance. When Jokic sits, Denver’s offense craters—last year’s drop-off was stark, and this season’s bench hasn’t inspired confidence. Murray’s slump, whatever it is, doesn’t help, and the West won’t wait for them to figure it out. If they stumble into the playoffs as a 5 or 6 seed, Jokic might need 40-point triple-doubles just to survive the first round. He’s done it before—see the 2023 Finals—but it’s a lot to ask when Minnesota’s Rudy Gobert or OKC’s Chet Holmgren are waiting.
Long term, this matters. Jokic turns 31 next February, and while he’s not slowing down, Denver’s window isn’t infinite. Murray’s contract is locked in, but the supporting cast needs juice—Braun and Watson are fine, but they’re not game-changers. If Jokic keeps this up, he could snag a fourth MVP, but without a deep playoff run, the “best player” talk stays hypothetical. Denver’s front office might need to cash in some chips before his prime ticks away.
The Verdict
Nikola Jokic’s 2025 season is a quiet storm—31.2 points, 12.4 rebounds, 9.1 assists, and a bag of tricks that keeps defenses guessing. He’s not yelling for attention, but he’s earning it, one midrange jumper and crosscourt pass at a time. The silence around him? It’s part familiarity, part narrative fatigue, and part Denver’s middling spotlight. He’s not chasing the hype—it’s just not his style—but the numbers are screaming, even if no one’s listening.
For Nuggets fans, it’s a familiar thrill: their guy’s the best, and the world’s too busy to notice. For the rest of us, it’s a reminder—don’t sleep on the big man from Sombor. He’ll hit a 62-footer, shrug, and go feed his horses while you’re still picking your jaw off the floor. That’s Jokic: dominant, understated, and somehow still the league’s worst-kept secret.
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