Bluesky

Apologies for drawing upon a beer commercial for inspiration, but the one about “the most interesting man in the world” who advises us to “stay thirsty” is never far from my mind when watching San Antonio Spurs center Victor Wembanyama. The impossibly tall basketball wunderkind from France is just 22 years old, and no one born in the 2000s—no one whose life is shorter than LeBron James’s entire career—should ever be allowed to be in the running for the “most interesting person” honorific. And yet Wembanyama makes you open to the idea.

Already, in just his third season in the NBA, the seven-foot-four-plus Wemby is a singular phenomenon: a player with an eight-foot wingspan who can handle the ball, shoot like a guard, and also be tough and nasty down low by the hoop. In a sport that has been around since 1891, he is like no player any of us has ever seen—truly one of one. And this season, he became the first player in NBA history to win the Defensive Player of the Year award unanimously.

But even that achievement understates how impressive he is on the court, where he covers ground like he’s wearing rollerblades. To watch him play defense is to watch giant 30-year-old men shrink from his shadow. In his presence, if they’re not missing layups, they’re having their shots rudely blocked. He turns opponents into baby brothers.

On Monday, playing against the juggernaut NBA defending champions, the Oklahoma City Thunder, in game one of the Western Conference Finals, Wemby’s performance was a work of art worthy of being stolen from the Louvre: 41 points, 24 rebounds, countless shots altered, a series of back-breaking dunks, and a 35-foot three pointer to tie the game with under 30 seconds to play in the first of two overtimes. He played a career-high of 49 minutes in a 122–115 victory, and it was breathtaking to watch. That Wemby is changing the geometry of a sport is certainly fascinating, but it’s not enough to merit the “most interesting” championship belt. He’s a contender for the spot not so much for who he is now but because of the person he is clearly becoming. That is, it’s what he has shown off on the court that makes him so intriguing.

While so many athletes now use social media to hawk products, seeming to believe that the highest of all pursuits is to be a lucrative brand, that’s not who Wembanyama is. When Renée Good and Alex Pretti were murdered by ICE thugs in the streets of Minneapolis, Wemby wanted to talk about it. First he pulled the curtain back on how pro sports organizations operate, telling the press that the team’s public relations crew advised him not to speak out. Then he said, “I’m not going to sit here and give some politically correct [answer]. Every day I wake up and see the news, and I’m horrified. I think it’s crazy that some people might make it seem like or make it sound like the murder of civilians is acceptable.” The comments broke through the noise and became a topic of conversation well beyond Texas.

But that’s not all. Wemby, for all of his indomitable NBA cool, geeks out over books, especially science fiction and fantasy. His hero is Brandon Sanderson, who wrote the The Stormlight Archive and the Mistborn trilogy. In March of 2024, Wemby met the Utah-based writer, and they traded signed books for signed jerseys. That Wemby is eager to show his genuine love for something beyond sports and fame is a rare attribute you don’t see in professional sports so much anymore, at least not since the days of Kareem Abdul-Jabbar spending his spare time playing the congas with Gil Scott-Heron. In fact, Wembanyama is such a reader that the San Antonio Public Library has displays and book suggestions under the heading Read Like Wemby, inspired by some of his favorites, which include Brian Herbert’s Dune series. Alongside veteran teammate Harrison Barnes, Wembanyama also launched a team book club.

But that’s still not all. There’s also his off-season meditation practice, guided by Shaolin Monks; the fact that he can switch effortlessly between French and English; and his general curiosity about the people around him, from teammates to the team staff. It would be so easy for him to stick to being just an athlete, but he seems to aspire to something greater, always driving himself forward and aiming to be the best player in the history of the sport.

The basketball world calls him “the alien,” a nickname I do not love, because what makes him special is how familiar, earthbound, and vulnerable he allows himself to be. But I can see how others find him daunting, or at least unlike anyone they have ever seen or experienced before. Can the most interesting person in the world actually be 22? Wemby is certainly making me wonder.