Victor Wembanyama is the key to ushering the NBA into a new era

Peering into the future of the NBA means reaching new heights, whether it's with a step ladder, sturdy toes, or a visit to the chiropractor after straining your neck.

Sizing up Victor Wembanyama is worth all the trouble because the biggest statistic by far associated with him here in his second season isn’t the league-high amount of shots he’s blocking or the not-so-surprising number of 3-pointers he’s making. It’s the selfie requests.

Aside from his basketball status, which is now All-Star certified, it’s the sheer human steepness of the man that gets people reaching for the cell. To stand next to Wembanyama at 7-foot-3 just for the size disparity makes for a you-can’t-believe-this snapshot.

This means the line forms to the right and around the block. He’s been approached by people from all walks of life, from celebrities to ordinary types to fellow NBA players and even his teammates, who often bring family members for a quick pic next to Vic.

The freak-out is in full effect whenever Wemby steps out in public, as when he pushed a food cart at a local H-E-B, the supermarket chain in Texas, causing clean-up on aisle six after shoppers dropped their cantaloupes in unison.

Wembanyama was there to shoot a commercial as H-E-B is a long-standing sponsor of the Spurs and many players have appeared in the store’s catchy 30-second spots over the years. Still: There were suddenly zoomed-out cameras everywhere, vastly outnumbering the one shooting the film.

This is normal for him. Wembanyama was asked when was the last time he went anywhere and nobody recognized him or did a double-take.

He laughed. Just laughed. That was his answer.

The good news is that he’s good with it all. With Wembanyama, who just turned 21, the future of the NBA is in good hands, which, by the way, are always extended. As the league braces for the cyclical and inevitable transition from an aging core of generational players to the next, Victor Wembanyama is bringing the whole package — charisma, presence, skills and yes, all that vertical — to the forefront.

“How high is the ceiling for him?” asked Milwaukee Bucks coach Doc Rivers. “What building are we talking about?”

Wembanyama: I’m ‘getting better every day’

It all starts with the height. Otherwise, he’d be just another hooper. There are millions of six-footers populating Earth, some even lucky enough to get paid to play.

But the human height pyramid gets tighter at the top. According to various estimates, seven-footers comprise far less than one percent of the world’s population, roughly 0.0000038% or thereabouts. Now imagine the microscopic odds of growing another three inches.

“I would guess there are about 500 to 1000 people who are 7-foot tall or more of NBA playing age in the United States,” said Joel Hirschhorn, a pediatric endocrinologist and professor of genetics at Harvard Medical School, who gives those adults a one-percent chance of actually playing in the NBA. He cites that most lack the agility, coordination, arms-to-height ratio or even the motivation to play basketball.

Obviously, in Wemby’s case, it’s genetics: Wemby’s parents were both players, clearing six feet, as is his brother and sister. Still, the chance of height plus coordination is rare. And then there’s the dribbling and shooting skills. That’s the combination that makes him “one of a kind,” according to Nuggets three-time Kia MVP Nikola Jokic, putting Wemby on his own island.

Or: “An alien,” said LeBron James.

And as Hirschhorn said: “Amazing. Fun to watch.”

While most seven-footers show discomfort the further they stray from the basket — and therefore lose their value — Wembanyama is at home shooting 3-pointers, up to nine per game now. While many his height are two-dribble players (meaning, that’s the maximum they take before freezing), Wembanyama will daringly dribble behind his back.

“The 3s, the off-the-backboard dunks to himself, some of the blocks he did that I definitely didn’t think he’d block, I’ve never seen anybody his height and size do what he does,” marveled Spurs teammate Chris Paul who, after 18-plus seasons of NBA service, has a point of reference.

While the sight of a seven-footer doing tasks commonly associated with guards might cause traditionalists to cringe, Wembanyama doesn’t apologize, and why should he? This is why he was one of the biggest prizes in NBA Draft history, the reason he arrived so unique is because of the skills acquired while growing up in Paris and playing professionally as a teenager.

“Nobody is going to stop me from getting the ball up court, dribbling behind my back and shooting 3s,” he said. “Coaches once tried to stop me from doing that. It was an everyday fight to be myself.”

This year, the growth offensively has been noticeable. His shot efficiency is rising and his scoring average is now just over 24 points, up three from his rookie season. He recently became the fourth-youngest player to score 50 points in a game.

As for the typical tall-man chores, Wembanyama is blessed with an eight-foot wingspan to do that, as a natural rebounder (10.9) and rim protector, causing opposing players to hesitate or bypass layups altogether or — since Wembanyama leads the league in swats by far — face rejection.

And so given where he is now, at his age, and the reasonable projections of where he might be next year or even next week, it lends the impression you might not see the likes of him for a long time, if ever. Last week he swatted a jump shot by the Hornets’ DaQuan Jeffries without leaving his feet. Flat-footed!

“It’s more different when he’s on the floor than any other player I’ve played against because of his size, his length, his skill set,” said Milwaukee Bucks guard Damian Lillard. “Even when he’s beat (on a play), he’s not beat. Even when you beat your guy, and he’s guarding on the perimeter, he’s always in range to block your shot or change your shot. I’ve never seen anything like that, with that skill, that tall, that athletic. Great instincts.”

What’s scary is Wembanyama believes this is just the beginning.

“I’m not there yet,” he said. “I’m working on it. I’m young and getting better every day.”

Larger than life on and off the court

The search for next in the NBA is ambitious, exhausting and often desperate, sifting out candidates who ultimately fail because they’re revealed to be merely very good, even perhaps perennial All-Stars … yet fall short of being generational.

The process is discriminating because of the stakes and the lofty level of those who defined next and carried the flag for the league. From Wilt Chamberlain and Bill Russell to Kareem Abdul-Jabbar in the Big Man Era, then Julius Erving after the NBA-ABA merger. From Magic Johnson and Larry Bird — who saved the league — to Michael Jordan, who bankrolled it.

An understandable dry spell followed Jordan’s retirement because he was such a global Goliath, enhanced by cable TV and Nike. But Kobe Bryant hooked Gen-X and Allen Iverson crafted a cultural takeover and then LeBron — with an assist from Stephen Curry — pushed the league through the digital age.

They weren’t just great but also marketable in their own way. They all caused awe and had an aura, either through force of personality (Magic), their causes (Russell), their brand (Jordan), their game-changing skill (Curry) or their longevity (LeBron).

Not every candidate for next brings that total package. Ralph Sampson, for example, was Wembanyama before Wembanyama. He played at 7-foot-4 with a handle and had skill way before his time, but he was grumpy about the attention caused by his height and expectations. And in the end, his knee injuries cut short what should’ve been.

The timing for Wembanyama, like those others, is ideal. The league signed a $77 billion media rights deal for the next 11 years. NBC runs promos emphasizing next over yesterday. As a native of France, Wembanyama fits the NBA’s globalized reach. The league and its partners will pocket the financial impact of that.

And that’s where his gifts that go beyond the game come in handy. There is a charming innocence about him, heightened by being fresh to the States, much like the lead characters in the movies “Crocodile Dundee” and “Coming To America.”

He didn’t have his first peanut butter and jelly sandwich until he landed in the U.S. He rarely drives, partly because he just got his license and it’s hard to fold into the front seat of a normal car. He is culturally curious about his new surroundings and wants to know the how and why about everything thrown his way. It feeds his intelligence, thoughtfulness and worldliness, which belie his age.

“Everything he does is very intentional, there’s a thought process to it,” said Mitch Johnson, the Spurs’ interim coach. “He’s very clear about what he wants and where he wants to go. The attention, the visibility, the spotlight has been there from day one, before he got into this league. And if you spend any amount of time with him or watch him closely, the way he conducts himself, carries himself, challenges people, wants to be held accountable, he’s nothing less than spectacular.”

When the Spurs played in Utah this season for a game against the Jazz, he seized the chance to visit the home of one of his favorite authors, Brandan Sanderson. It made for another striking Vic Pic.

At 5-foot-9, Sanderson is a foot-and-a-half shorter. But Sanderson’s bestselling fantasy novels, including the popular Mistborn series, come eye level to Wembanyama, who can’t put them down.

“He understands that basketball is what he does, not who he is,” said Paul.

Thanks to the access provided by social media, Wembanyama is made for an era where personalities seem larger than life. He doesn’t shy away from it or the demands on his time since he’s naturally a people person. Rather than looking for a side exit, he struts through the front door — remembering to duck first, of course.

Clear goals keep Wembanyama focused

There’s much at stake. The Spurs are hoping he returns the franchise to prominence; if he’s not playing for championships in the future, then it’s all moot. He could become the first NBA player to reach $1 billion in salary alone in his career. And with LeBron and Curry in their sunset years, Wembanyama’s emergence seems timely from a league standpoint.

As for that load, Paul said: “It’s not about what the league wants. It’s got to be what you want. He understands the sacrifice, the work and the humility it takes to get there.”

Wemby welcomes it all while staying true to the process.

“The expectation I have for myself is to be honest with myself,” he said. “I’m trying to be the best professional, not take shortcuts, not take the easy route just because it’s easy. I expect myself to hold the standards, day to day, week to week.”

The winner of the NBA’s next campaign might be in college right now. Or trying out for his high school varsity team. History tells us this search can be tricky and unpredictable sometimes. The eventual candidate(s) will soon be asked to step forward and tugboat a league that relies on star power.

Just maybe, the next is already in the league, shooting 3-pointers, crossover dribbling, blocking shots, standing before us at such a height (7-foot-5 in sneakers) and growing stature that makes him hard to miss.

When Victor Wembanyama, representing France, came a victory shy of the gold medal last summer in his hometown Olympics, he felt bad … for those standing between him and his goals.

“I’m learning,” he said, “and I’m worried for the opponents in the next couple of years.”

Olympic opponents … or NBA?

“Both.”

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Shaun Powell has covered the NBA for more than 25 years. You can e-mail him here, find his archive here and follow him on X.

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