Have you ever found yourself in a brainstorming session? My day job involves these creative gatherings regularly. Typically, they reserve about an hour, gathering everyone in the office either in a conference room or on Zoom. The goal? Chase down an idea boiled down to one simple sentence. During brainstorms, the rule is: no idea is a bad idea.
However, once the brainstorm wraps up, someone has to sift through all those ideas and separate the genuinely great ones from the not-so-great. Ideally, they form a plan to implement ideas that are either good, feasible within budget and time, or best case, both good and achievable.
The NBA’s decision-makers must have run countless brainstorming sessions after the train wreck that was the 2024 All-Star Weekend. They were clearly trying to figure out how to redeem the league’s most high-profile midseason show.
So, how did it all pan out this time?
Well, if success is measured by how many frustrated sighs, eye rolls, and moments of boredom you can provoke, then this year’s All-Star Weekend was a massive hit.
I really don’t like to harp on this mess. I genuinely love the NBA and want to see it thrive. I tuned in with an open mind, ready to be dazzled. Yet, here I am saying, “Come on, NBA, show me something amazing.”
The brainstorming efforts from NBA headquarters gave birth to a ton of ideas—big ones, new formats, grand plans. But somehow, it seemed like no one bothered to discard any proposals. What resulted was a mishmash of corporate synergy and vaguely basketball-related activities that made for a pretty unbearable viewing experience. The weekend lacked a unifying theme, other than maybe “more Kevin Hart and more Mr. Beast.”
Seriously though, if your grand idea of improvement is “more Kevin Hart and more Mr. Beast,” you’re probably asking the wrong questions.
Throughout the weekend, I couldn’t keep track of who was on which team or what they were competing for. The players appeared to take the games about as seriously as the environment they were in; it was baffling for both die-hard basketball enthusiasts and casual viewers, young and old alike.
The promotional slogan might as well have been: “NBA All-Star Weekend: Just as baffled as you are!”
This isn’t one of those nostalgic rants about how things were better “back in my day,” which are all too frequent in basketball debates today. All-Star Weekends of old weren’t perfect either. But they did center more squarely around basketball, rather than letting it become a secondary attraction like it was this time.
One of the most ludicrous moments happened during the skills challenge. A group of superbly talented players participated in an obstacle course that felt oddly reminiscent of a Chuck E. Cheese setup. Victor Wembanyama and Chris Paul found a loophole in the rules, leading to immediate disqualification. As the TNT broadcast team tried to unravel what happened, league officials intervened, preventing sideline reporter Allie LaForce from getting any real answers. It was preposterous—after all, who really cares about the “integrity” of the skills challenge? The league’s handling of LaForce was unacceptable. Yet, this incident stands out as my clearest memory from the weekend, precisely because it was a break from the manufactured entertainment the NBA seemed convinced we wanted.
Is there a fix for All-Star Weekend? Does anyone even want to fix it?
The NBA’s global rise in popularity and revenue largely comes from increased TV coverage and social media presence, but ironically these have dulled the allure of All-Star Weekend. It’s no longer special to see two dozen of the greatest players on the same court—we see them all the time now. Frequent player trades mean we witness various combinations of them playing together regularly. Plus, on social media, dunk mavens like Mac McClung outperform even top NBA players with their aerial artistry, though these performers likely couldn’t compete in an 82-game NBA season.
All-Star Weekend suffers from unrealistic expectations and fans that are impossible to satisfy. I’m not sure there’s a “solution” that pleases everyone. If the NBA insists on continuing with this event as it stands, they need a reality check. They should focus on tightening the broadcast to feature more basketball-centric activities and cut the circus acts. Basketball is a game that builds on flow—not elongated breaks to offer tributes to popular TV series. If the aim is to celebrate the sport, the NBA should select commentators who avoid spending their airtime criticizing it.
Otherwise, maybe Kevin Durant’s suggestion to “take the week off” isn’t such a bad idea.
