Why Kevin Durant’s Legacy Needs a San Antonio Spurs Chapter to Be Complete

It’s legacy-cementing time for Kevin Durant.

The eighth-leading scorer in NBA history has a chance to pass Wilt Chamberlain, Dirk Nowitzki and, yes, Michael Jordan on the all-time list next season.

He can catch Larry Bird, Dwyane Wade and James Worthy in career championships.

And he can continue to close the gap on LeBron James for the distinction of greatest 3-point-shooting big man in NBA history.

All while convincing someone—anyone—that he belongs among the 10 greatest players of all time.

OK, he’s got a lot of convincing still to do, but not because of his scoring, his championships or his 3-point shooting. It’s all about his reputation.

I did a quick survey of my million or so followers (a few didn’t respond), wondering:

Kevin Durant, your thoughts (in two or fewer words) …

Always Injured got mentioned a lot.

Elite Iso was noted.

Nomad was quite popular.

But Ring-Chaser was the runaway winner.

That’s sad, but at age 36, Durant still has time to do something about it.

The 15-time All-Star almost surely will be traded this offseason. He’s got $54.7 million left on the final year of his contract, and the Suns have no interest in paying it.

No doubt, Durant will have a say in where he goes.

Should he pressure the Suns into a deal with the Celtics so he can fill in for Jayson Tatum and walk onto a powerhouse team like he did nine years ago with Golden State?

Should he sweet-talk Mark Walter into a super-merger with LeBron and Luka Doncic?

Should he beg the Thunder to throw their whole bag of first-round picks to the Suns for a triumphant reunion?

No. Definitely not. Forget about it. That’s what stuck Durant with his reputation in the first place.

He needs to be the guy riding into town on a white horse—not the guy Secretariat is carrying to the roses.

That town is San Antonio.

The Spurs have Victor Wembanyama—just as, rising from the ashes, they had Tim Duncan to build around at the turn of the century.

They have Stephon Castle and, likely, Dylan Harper as developing foundation pieces. Just as they had Tony Parker and Manu Ginobili back in the day.

But what these Spurs don’t have is David Robinson—the Hall of Famer who was existing mostly on fumes in his mid-30s.

Robinson won two titles with the Spurs, but nobody labels him a ring-chaser for riding Duncan’s coattails. He accepted a role, gave the young stars a role model and will be remembered as a great teammate.

Not as a guy—the face of the franchise—who failed to get the club over the hump for the better part of a decade.

Durant can be that guy. Durant needs to be that guy.

His place in NBA history depends upon it.

Just come in … gush about the greatness of Wemby … talk up the potential of the young prospects … note how a great GM and his puppet (see: Oklahoma City) can be a magical combination … and maybe even convince a couple of his old pals (say Jeff Green, Joe Harris and/or Kevon Looney) to join in on the fun for a couple of bucks.

Then just wait until the game clock winds down to seconds rather than minutes and bury a clutch jumper or two—a reminder as to why his winning numbers should outweigh his sometimes selfish intentions.

It’s hard to call winning two titles in the greatest three-year run of the post-Jordan era a mistake. But let’s be honest: It’s killing Durant.

Nobody roots for him anymore … except reluctantly when he rescues the Good Guys at the Olympics, where he showed he could still be Superman—even while wearing Clark Kent’s newspaper garb.

The Spurs already have a guy with superpowers. They need Durant to script his next chapter in the shadows at deadline.

Even more so, Durant needs it, too.