For years the dunk contest was the most anticipated event of All-Star weekend. Being the dunk champ was cool. The battles between top stars were gripping. Who can forget Jordan and Wilkins’s duels in the ’80’s? It was right here in the Bay Area, 25 years ago, that Carter punctuated his win by hanging from the rim by his elbow. As recently as 2016, the dunk off between Zach LaVine and Aaron Gordon made for great TV.  

Sadly, those days are gone. Stars abandoned the dunk contest years ago. This year’s field is headlined by Mac McClung, the two-time defending champion who has played exactly five NBA minutes this season. His competition is a pair of rookies (Stephon Castle, Matas Buzelis) and a sophomore (Andre Jackson Jr.). 

Tickets to the event should come with media guides. 

So what happened? Why has interest from the star wing of the rank-and-file in what was once the NBA’s marquee event cratered? “Social media ruined it,” Nate Robinson, a three-time dunk champ, remarked last year. Indeed, the likes and fire emojis that come with a great dunk aren’t worth the risk of being mocked for whiffing three in a row. 

Said Jaylen Brown, the rare All-Star who competed in the contest last year, “Some players are just afraid to get turned into a meme.”

The financial incentive isn’t there, either. Jordan’s NBA salary was less than a million dollars when he took on Wilkins in 1988. That prize money meant something. This year’s winner will earn $105,000. That matters to McClung, who has been earning G League pay. For Anthony Edwards (who will collect $42 million this season), Ja Morant ($36 million) or Zion Williamson ($36 million), that isn’t a prize. It’s an interest payment. 

Then there are the dunks. Four decades of innovation has left little to the imagination. The free throw line has been done. A few times. The site of 5′ 6″ Spud Webb doing a 360 was cool. Dee Brown pumping up the Reeboks before his no-look jam was, too. Props have become part of the dunk contest in recent years. Dwight Howard disappeared into a phone booth before his dunk. Blake Griffin leaped over a car. 

What’s left? McClung dunked over Shaquille O’Neal last year. Perhaps Castle will attempt to leapfrog San Antonio Spurs teammate Victor Wembanyama? Gerald Green blew the candle out on a cupcake in 2008. Is there another pastry Buzelis can try? 

The NBA will argue that despite its lack of star power the contest still draws an audience. In 2024, All-Star Saturday night averaged 4.6 million viewers, up 31% from ’23 and its largest audience since ’20. The draw last year was the anticipated three-point shooting contest between Stephen Curry and Sabrina Ionescu. Despite its success, the NBA won’t have a similar competition this year.

The NBA knows the dunk contest is flailing. It just hasn’t figured out how to replace it. In 1998, a year after an abysmal dunk-off headlined by a young Kobe Bryant, the league replaced the contest with 2Ball, a shooting contest that paired NBA and WNBA players from the same city. It didn’t go well. In 2000, the dunk contest was readded to All-Star Saturday. In ’02, 2Ball was gone. 

Right sentiment. Wrong idea. A H-O-R-S-E competition could work. Who wouldn’t want to see Luka Doncic attempting trick shots? Or King of the Court. If being the best dunker in the NBA isn’t appealing to today’s players, perhaps the distinction of being the best one-on-one player is. A simpler solution would be just expanding the Steph/Sabrina contest. Steph vs. Sabrina. Klay vs. Caitlin (Clark). 

Think that wouldn’t play in the Bay?

There’s no reviving the dunk contest. LeBron James isn’t entering it in his 40s. Giannis Antetokounmpo isn’t giving it a try. There will be some fun moments Saturday. Castle is explosive and McClung will certainly have something new in his bag. But the aftermath is predictable. The NBA needs to end the dunk contest. And come up with something else.