No King, No Problem. The NBA's Identity Problem

Illustration by Peter Townsend

The NBA finds itself in an awkward position, stuck between squeezing every last drop out of its aging legends while also shoving the next generation into a crown they haven't earned yet.

Every couple of weeks during the NBA season or in the dead of the offseason, some analyst on TV or a clip from a podcast goes viral with the same stale question: Who's the Next Face of the League? And every time it pops up, I check out.

I know I'm not alone, either. Plenty in the basketball community have grown sick of this manufactured conversation. The Ringer's Bill Simmons also dislikes it. During the Finals this past June, he posted on X: "Can we ban the 'Face of the League' convo? Let's make it illegal. It's the single stupidest NBA conversation." I agree with the Podfather.

Here's the truth that NBA fans and talking heads don't want to hear: We might not get another LeBron James for a long time. And that's fine. It's better than fine. The NBA doesn't need a clear answer for who's next.

We Can't Let Go of the Past

The NBA's "Face of the League" issue is relatively straightforward: its most prominent faces — LeBron James, Stephen Curry, and Kevin Durant — remain the biggest names, even as they continue into their 30s (or 40s in LeBron's case). To be fair, they all still back it up on the court. LeBron just made second-team All-NBA, Curry is still the best shooter in the world, and KD, when healthy, remains one of the best scorers in the association.

It's been a gift for the league to have these three overlap for so long. For more than two decades, LeBron has been the easy choice and the face of it all. He took the crown from MJ and carried it through three teams in four stops, four titles, countless controversies, and too many GOAT debates to count. Curry snatched the spotlight for a stretch in the mid-2010s, flipping the sport upside down and spearheading the three-point revolution. Since entering the league in 2007, KD has consistently been in this conversation with his unbelievable scoring ability.

Here's the issue: the NBA hasn't prepared fans, or itself, for what happens when these players finally retire from the game. The league hitched itself so tightly to this Big Three that it forgot the next generation can't just appear on cue when the stars get old.

The Loop That Keeps Us Stuck

And while the league drags its feet on spotlighting new stars, the media does the opposite – manufacturing headlines to keep the "Face of the League" debate alive. It's a contradiction that makes the whole conversation exhausting: LeBron, Curry, and KD still dominate every marquee game, jersey sales, and TV segments, yet the same shows that cling to them also shove half-baked "next up" narratives down our throats.

It's not black and white. The NBA and its media partners want it both ways: keep milking the legends for ratings and pretend they know who's ready to carry the torch, even when the so-called "next face" isn't close yet. So, we get endless talk about Jayson Tatum, Anthony Edwards, or Victor Wembanyama, but there is no real plan to help them grow into it naturally.

The result? The league under-promotes the rising stars, then the media scrambles to fill the gap with forced auditions and anointing players who might never want or fit the crown in the first place. This creates a loop of: 'we can never move on from the past, but also we can't build up the next guy naturally.'

The Criteria

So, if we're going to discuss the 'Next Face of the League', let's do it properly. It's complicated but simple all at the same time. It's a high bar, but here's my criteria:

1. Be Undeniably Brilliant.

You need to be a consensus top 2, maybe top 3 player in the league for years. The top 10 doesn't even cut it. The league needs to bend around you. LeBron, KD, and Curry fit this build.

Think Ant or Wemby. Both phonemic players and highly popular names come up in this debate. But neither has proven itself in the way I'm describing yet.

2. You have to want it.

Being the face means living in front of cameras 24/7—commercials, interviews, social media presence, the whole machine. LeBron wanted it. Jordan certainly did. Magic Johnson relished in it. Jokic? My favorite player in the league and the best player in the world, but he can't be the face. Do you know why? He doesn't want to be famous. A few commercials, a shoe deal, sure, but we know he'd rather watch his horses race than give any care in the world about holding this arbitrary title.

3. Be Authentically Cool.

This can't be faked. Kids need to want to emulate your style, covet your shoes, and aspire to be like you as a basketball player. Jordan was cool. Bird and Magic were cool. Steph made every kid think they could pull up from 30 feet out and call it a good shot.

4. It Happens Naturally.

This might be the most critical piece here. The face of the league emerges naturally when the best player is also the most compelling story, wants the spotlight, and has the cultural force behind them. You can't force it. We can't just pick someone because a void is coming for that role.

Here's a rule of thumb: If we have to keep debating who the next face is, we don't have one.

At least not yet.

History Proves it's Rarity

Let's look at the past 79 years of the NBA. How many true faces have there been? I counted 13, and that might be generous:

• George Mikan

• Bill Russell/ Wilt Chamberlain

• Kareem Abdul Jabbar

• Julius Erving

• Magic Johnson/ Larry Bird

• Michael Jordan

• Shaquille O'Neal/ Kobe Bryant

• LeBron James

• Kevin Durant/Stephen Curry

That's it. It's a small club. Everyone else? All-time greats, but not the guy. Oscar Robertson. Hakeem Olajuwon. Tim Duncan. Legends, but not the cultural axis the league spun around.

And yet, every few weeks, we are forced to attend auditions for younger players who the league hasn't even done a great job at promoting. Jayson Tatum? We all know he's not. Ant? He might have the most charisma, but he isn't yet at that level of player, and we don't know if he ever will be. Shai Gilgeous-Alexander? He feels like a natural fit after the season he just had, but does he push the needle culturally the way Curry or Kobe did?

Wemby? It may be him. The hype, the skill, the intrigue. But who knows if he even wants the circus that comes with being The Guy? He could be more Duncan and Jokic than we know.

Who's Actually Close?

Giannis Antetokounmpo. Luka Doncic. Jokic. For my money, the three best players in the world. But each has something that pushes them just a hair outside of the criteria. Giannis might be closest, but is he the 'cool' pick? Luka is brilliant. But does he feel like Magic or Bird in the same way yet? It would still feel forced at this point. And we know Jokic, who actively avoids the spotlight.

The Crown Can Wait

None of this is a bad thing; in fact, it's a sign of health.

The league doesn't need another LeBron, and it's unrealistic to think we'll get another one again soon. The next face will come when someone takes it, not when ESPN decides they've arrived.

Instead of one king, we get a dozen guys who represent their city and their fans—the king of their market.

This topic won't die anytime soon. TV shows and podcasts need filler. But can we relax? Like Charles Barkley said in late May this past year, "You can't give it to people. They have to take it."

Let it happen naturally. Let them earn it. If it takes years, good. That means the crown went to the player who deserved it, not the one who we forced to squeeze into the crown.