Sometimes the chaotic, unforgiving universe briefly and ecstatically snaps itself into harmony, like when the Fibonacci sequence shows up in a head of Romanesco broccoli, or a small rock balances atop a bigger rock, or when a certain permanently adrift Australian basketball player brings his destiny into sudden coherence. By which I mean: Ben Simmons is a Sacramento King.
Simmons has taken the long road to Sacramento, though every step of his career has brought him closer to what Rudy Gay infamously yet correctly termed "Basketball Hell." In 2021, his top-seeded Philadelphia 76ers were in fantastic position to make it to the Eastern Conference Finals, only to get humiliated by the fifth-seeded Atlanta Hawks, as Simmons, on his home floor in Game 7, forgot how to dunk the basketball. This broke the Sixers. Simmons would never play for them again: The following season he staged an agonizing holdout under the pretense of a back injury that involved Joel Embiid and Doc Rivers debasing themselves, Simmons loafing through practice and then getting kicked out, and inadvertently creating the conditions for Tyrese Maxey to flourish.
The Sixers traded Simmons to Brooklyn—while the borough is not remotely on the Sacramento spectrum, the Nets certainly are—where he flailed around hopelessly for chunks of two-and-a-half injury-marred seasons. Was he a small-ball center? Jumbo Rajon Rondo with a concussion? A defensive specialist? Not really, no; he was terrible, though in a way that seemed as much a matter of effort and intensity as a matter of talent.
Simmons eventually frustrated and baffled everyone involved with the Nets, who were also anchored to his huge contract such that he was impossible to move or build around (not in the foundational sense, but more in the sense that they were stuck with him). The Nets waived him two days after the 2025 trade deadline. The Los Angeles Clippers picked him up two days later, and he logged 18 regular-season games with that team. He also played in five of the seven games in L.A.'s first-round playoff loss to the Denver Nuggets, attempted six field goals, and has not appeared in an NBA game since.
Simmons spent the 2025–26 season fishing, recovering from his various maladies, and, according to his family members, regaining his athleticism. In June, Men's Health published a splashy feature on Simmons, who talked about watching the playoffs and missing the intensity. “I needed to get away, and have some space, and just find myself again,” he said. As for his plans? "I plan on getting as strong as I can physically, getting my ass on the court, and then the team realizing that my abilities will be needed."
Said team is the sorriest-ass franchise in sports, fresh off one of the most embarrassing campaigns in its embarrassing recent history. Despite winning 22 games, because the Kings couldn't even tank correctly, they picked seventh in the 2026 draft and selected Darius Acuff Jr., about whom I will reserve judgment until he actually plays NBA basketball but who is not someone I am unworried about. They still have Zach LaVine and Domantas Sabonis—whom nobody wants to trade for, so they just have to purgatorily wait out both of those contracts—and a bunch of guys who stink. The organization is currently the subject of a pregnancy discrimination lawsuit, one that accuses the team's incompetent head coach Doug Christie, who only has the job because the cheapskate owner doesn't want to hire a real coach, of sexual harassment.
Simmons underwent a physical and performed a workout for the Kings, and they signed him to a one-year, $3.5 million veteran-minimum deal on Friday. The New York Knicks and Golden State Warriors were reportedly "in the mix" for his services as well. What will Simmons add to this woebegone group? Here's the confusingly worded intel from ESPN's Marc Spears:
In the following days [after the workout], the Kings offered Simmons a contract with the expectation of him being a backup point guard for rookie Darius Acuff Jr. and play [sic] positions 1 through 5. For the Kings, Simmons serves as a high-upside reclamation project who still has years left in his perspective [sic] prime.
Awesome. Simmons will be the backup point guard, and also everything else, for the worst team in basketball. Honestly it might work, and I hope it does, more for his sake than the Kings'. He deserves some happiness and redemption, and while he picked a tough place to get either of those, there's nowhere to go but up.
