NBA All-Star

The National Basketball Association’s (NBA) unveiling of its All-Star reserves is typically greeted with equal parts affirmation and irritation, but this year’s announcement seems to carry an even sharper edge. On surface, it delivers a tidy headline: LeBron James, now deep into his 21st season, has been chosen to grace the annual spectacle for a record-extending 22nd consecutive time. Coaches voted him in as a reserve, as much an acknowledgment as any of his sustained relevance. Even in a season where the Lakers have moved unevenly at best, he remains central to how games are shaped and narratives are told. Conventional wisdom may have pegged his inclusion as inevitable, but there can be no discounting how it has also heightened tension among fans swayed by cognitive biases either way.

That stress is amplified by context. This year’s All-Star Game, to be held at the Intuit Dome, will abandon the familiar East-West divide for a compact, tournament-style format highlighting three teams, short games, and the promise of urgency. Whether the league’s latest attempt to inject meaning into a showcase that has grown increasingly symbolic will succeed remains to be seen. That said, there is no small measure of irony in seeing the NBA tinker with format to heighten competitiveness even as the process of selecting who gets to participate remains stubbornly conservative.

Not that the list of reserves (a veritable Who’s Who of hoops stars) is indefensible. Kevin Durant, still operating at an elite level when healthy, earned his 16th All-Star nod. Younger stars like Anthony Edwards and Jamal Murray were rewarded for anchoring winning teams, while first-timers such as Chet Holmgren signaled the league’s gradual generational handoff. In the East, Donovan Mitchell and Pascal Siakam continued their steady presence, and Scottie Barnes’ selection affirmed a steady evolution from promising talent to franchise pillar. Taken individually, the choices pass the eye test. And collectively, they reflect a healthy balance between honoring the present and protecting the familiar.

All the same, the omissions have dominated the post-announcement conversation. Kawhi Leonard’s absence is the most jarring, and not simply because he would have been a worthy representative for the hosts. While in the midst of one of the most efficient scoring seasons of his career, he has built a case rooted squarely in cold, hard facts. His exclusion underscores how non-availability narratives, load management suspicions, and residual skepticism can trump actual on-court impact.

Which brings the discussion back to James, whose selection, to be fair, is both deserved and instructive. It affirms that longevity at the highest level of the sport is in and of itself a form of excellence. However, it likewise shines the spotlight on a question the league wrestles with every February: Is being named to the All-Star Game a reward for achievements in the current season or for a prolonged body of work? This year’s East and West rosters straddle the line. And it may well be what keeps the All-Star debate alive, unresolved, and revealing all at once.

Anthony L. Cuaycong has been writing Courtside since BusinessWorld introduced a Sports section in 1994. He is a consultant on strategic planning, operations and human resources management, corporate communications, and business development.