We’ve all seen the YouTube clips. Clock winding down, game on the line, Dwyane Wade pulling up from the elbow or carving through defenders at the rim.
Poised, explosive and unshakable, he was clutch under pressure. In fact, a three-time NBA champion and Finals MVP, Wade became known for it. But his legacy isn’t just what he did in crunch time — it’s how he helped redefine what basketball looks like and how a player moves through the world off the court. Wade was part of a generation that ushered in the positionless era — when guards rebounded like forwards, wings initiated offense and the modern game stretched into something more fluid, creative and tactical.
Today, a 7-foot-3-inch center like Victor Wembanyama can glide like a point guard. A lead guard like Shai Gilgeous-Alexander can pace a game with footwork and feel. Wade was never a position player — he was so versatile, he could play from anywhere.
He was also of a generation that built a personal brand through style. In the 2010s, as social media platforms like Instagram emerged, Wade became a pioneer of another kind: one of the first players to treat fashion as a platform, an extension of self, to preserve his brand beyond the court. “Guys were dressing well way before us,” said Wade. “But the opportunities started to present themselves differently for us than they did for the generation before, and so on.” During his 16-year season in the NBA, Wade was known as one of the most stylish players, even becoming a fashion week fixture.
Then, in 2017, he collaborated with Dsquared2 on a capsule collection for Saks Fifth Avenue before inking a landmark deal with Chinese sportswear giant Li-Ning, in 2018, to grow his Way of Wade brand, which now sells sneakers and apparel and has 11 standalone stores in China. Although he played his last NBA game in 2019, Wade is a Tiffany & Co. global ambassador and recently fronted Versace underwear and eyewear campaigns.
All to say: Wade is nowhere close to being done shaping the merger of sports and fashion. Raised on the South Side of Chicago, Wade first connected with style through his father and uncles — men who dressed sharp with confidence and intention. Even with limited resources, they made every look count. “One of my favorite things was watching them get ready to go out,” he said. “The laughter, the music — everything they did before leaving the house. I was like, ‘Yeah, that’s me.’” Wade’s fashion journey became deeply personal — and deeply strategic. “We didn’t come into the league with stylists,” he said. “We were figuring it out ourselves.
Then it got competitive. Then it became branding.” To say he’s dynamic is an understatement. Here’s a short list of his other accomplishments to date: He’s a New York Times bestselling author and co-founder of Proudly, a sustainable baby-care brand he launched with his wife, Gabrielle Union. He has stakes in Wade Cellars, a wine company, and 800° Woodfired Kitchen, a restaurant brand; and he owns 59th & Prairie Entertainment, a production company that co-produces his podcast, WY Network by Dwyane Wade, with iHeartRadio.
Through the Wade Family Foundation, he champions racial justice, LGBTQ rights and community empowerment — work that earned him a place on the 2020 Time 100 list of the world’s most influential people. Maybe best of all, he’s doing it with heart, with the intention of leaving a legacy that creates a platform for others to do the same. “That legacy isn’t just professional — it’s personal, too,” said Wade.
It’s all about creating tools. I didn’t write that book to make a list. I wrote it because I knew I wasn’t the first to go through it, and I won’t be the last.” PLAYERS caught up with the superstar fresh off hosting duties for the Today Show to talk about social media’s impact on the game, finding your flag as a young player, rule changes in the NBA and what he wants his legacy to be.
Poised, explosive and unshakable, he was clutch under pressure. In fact, a three-time NBA champion and Finals MVP, Wade became known for it. But his legacy isn’t just what he did in crunch time — it’s how he helped redefine what basketball looks like and how a player moves through the world off the court. Wade was part of a generation that ushered in the positionless era — when guards rebounded like forwards, wings initiated offense and the modern game stretched into something more fluid, creative and tactical.
Today, a 7-foot-3-inch center like Victor Wembanyama can glide like a point guard. A lead guard like Shai Gilgeous-Alexander can pace a game with footwork and feel. Wade was never a position player — he was so versatile, he could play from anywhere.
He was also of a generation that built a personal brand through style. In the 2010s, as social media platforms like Instagram emerged, Wade became a pioneer of another kind: one of the first players to treat fashion as a platform, an extension of self, to preserve his brand beyond the court. “Guys were dressing well way before us,” said Wade. “But the opportunities started to present themselves differently for us than they did for the generation before, and so on.” During his 16-year season in the NBA, Wade was known as one of the most stylish players, even becoming a fashion week fixture.
Then, in 2017, he collaborated with Dsquared2 on a capsule collection for Saks Fifth Avenue before inking a landmark deal with Chinese sportswear giant Li-Ning, in 2018, to grow his Way of Wade brand, which now sells sneakers and apparel and has 11 standalone stores in China. Although he played his last NBA game in 2019, Wade is a Tiffany & Co. global ambassador and recently fronted Versace underwear and eyewear campaigns.
All to say: Wade is nowhere close to being done shaping the merger of sports and fashion. Raised on the South Side of Chicago, Wade first connected with style through his father and uncles — men who dressed sharp with confidence and intention. Even with limited resources, they made every look count. “One of my favorite things was watching them get ready to go out,” he said. “The laughter, the music — everything they did before leaving the house. I was like, ‘Yeah, that’s me.’” Wade’s fashion journey became deeply personal — and deeply strategic. “We didn’t come into the league with stylists,” he said. “We were figuring it out ourselves.
Then it got competitive. Then it became branding.” To say he’s dynamic is an understatement. Here’s a short list of his other accomplishments to date: He’s a New York Times bestselling author and co-founder of Proudly, a sustainable baby-care brand he launched with his wife, Gabrielle Union. He has stakes in Wade Cellars, a wine company, and 800° Woodfired Kitchen, a restaurant brand; and he owns 59th & Prairie Entertainment, a production company that co-produces his podcast, WY Network by Dwyane Wade, with iHeartRadio.
Through the Wade Family Foundation, he champions racial justice, LGBTQ rights and community empowerment — work that earned him a place on the 2020 Time 100 list of the world’s most influential people. Maybe best of all, he’s doing it with heart, with the intention of leaving a legacy that creates a platform for others to do the same. “That legacy isn’t just professional — it’s personal, too,” said Wade.
It’s all about creating tools. I didn’t write that book to make a list. I wrote it because I knew I wasn’t the first to go through it, and I won’t be the last.” PLAYERS caught up with the superstar fresh off hosting duties for the Today Show to talk about social media’s impact on the game, finding your flag as a young player, rule changes in the NBA and what he wants his legacy to be.
Robert Cordero: You trained as an athlete all your life. How did you get into fashion?
Dwyane Wade: I was probably inspired by watching my dad and uncles put on clothes. I thought they were the sharpest dudes in the world. My dad wore clothes with so much confidence. I wanted to be like that. I was like, “Oh, yeah, that’s what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna wear clothes with confidence.”
RC: When you say they “put on clothes,” what kind of styles were they? Were they sharp suits or from specific brands?
DW: Definitely started with suits. I’m from Chicago and back then, suits were really, really big — like curtains. Growing up in the inner city, we weren’t fortunate enough to have a lot of options, so to see the way they would put their looks together and make so many outfits out of about two or three suits stuck with me — the ability to mix and match and not care if it went together in someone else’s eyes. The pattern matching wasn’t their focus. It was about what they liked, what they wanted to see on their bodies and what they had — and they used it to the best of their abilities.
RC: You grew up in the ’80s and ’90s, so I’m imagining they were those kind of baggy, stylish suits you’d see on shows like A Different World.
DW: It’s exactly what they were — baggy, cool. I thought they were cool, anyway, at the time. It looked comfortable. They would go out a lot to dance, to perform — my dad was into singing.
RC: There’s something about that ritual of getting dressed — almost like putting on armor or stepping into another side of yourself. Did you pick up on that as a kid, watching them get ready to go out?
DW: Yes! My dad was a hard-working man. He had to wear a uniform to work, so anytime he got a chance to express himself, he did it through clothes. And I watched that. My dad says I just remixed everything he did; I’m just the one people get to see. He says I took his style — and, of course, I did. I watched the way he put on clothes, so 1,000%.
RC: Back in your early NBA days, what was it like finding clothes that actually fit? Brands weren’t making sample sizes for players yet, so how did you navigate that? Did you have a stylist, or were you figuring it out on your own?
DW: First of all, shout out to Rachel [Johnson] — she kind of blazed the trail and created a path in styling in the NBA. When I was introduced to her, she was LeBron [James]’ stylist. We didn’t know anything about stylists. That wasn’t a thing in the NBA when we first got in. I used to shop at Burlington Coat Factory before games, just trying to put something together. I came from nothing, so spending a lot of money on clothes wasn’t something I wanted to do. But once the NBA dress code came in, guys wanted to one-up each other. That’s when style started coming into the league. I ended up working with Calyann Barnett, who was under Rachel. We started trying to create a look, figuring out trends, shopping nonstop. As my brand grew, I brought on a PR team, and we started talking about our hopes and goals. That’s when we started meeting designers and brands. At the time, the response was always: NBA players can’t wear our clothes — too tall, arms too long, nothing fits. Nothing was catered to us. But I’d come to New York, go meet with the designers, try things on. We wanted to show we could rock this stuff, especially as our style changed. First, everything was baggy, then it got more tailored, so we could fit into pieces you’d see on a runway. It was a progression. It didn’t happen overnight. It took a lot of work to build myself in this space for a brand or designer to even want to see me in the clothes.
RC: The draft is a major turning point for any player. Coming from humble beginnings, what did that moment mean to you? How did you land on what to wear?
DW: For me, it was a cool process because I’d never done it before. My agent, Henry Thomas, introduced me to a designer in Chicago named Willie Scott who had made suits for a few other players. I sat down with Willie to design two outfits, one for the draft, one for the team press conference. I was trying to be smart about it. I didn’t want to be one of those guys people laugh at 10 or 20 years later. So I went with something simple: My draft suit was navy blue, which is one of my favorite colors, with a baby blue shirt and a navy tie. Real Chicago is simple. The press conference suit was black with a white shirt and maybe a black-and-white polka dot tie. At the time, I thought I was playing it safe. I wasn’t trying to step outside the box. And still, those photos came back to haunt me.
Dwyane Wade: I was probably inspired by watching my dad and uncles put on clothes. I thought they were the sharpest dudes in the world. My dad wore clothes with so much confidence. I wanted to be like that. I was like, “Oh, yeah, that’s what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna wear clothes with confidence.”
RC: When you say they “put on clothes,” what kind of styles were they? Were they sharp suits or from specific brands?
DW: Definitely started with suits. I’m from Chicago and back then, suits were really, really big — like curtains. Growing up in the inner city, we weren’t fortunate enough to have a lot of options, so to see the way they would put their looks together and make so many outfits out of about two or three suits stuck with me — the ability to mix and match and not care if it went together in someone else’s eyes. The pattern matching wasn’t their focus. It was about what they liked, what they wanted to see on their bodies and what they had — and they used it to the best of their abilities.
RC: You grew up in the ’80s and ’90s, so I’m imagining they were those kind of baggy, stylish suits you’d see on shows like A Different World.
DW: It’s exactly what they were — baggy, cool. I thought they were cool, anyway, at the time. It looked comfortable. They would go out a lot to dance, to perform — my dad was into singing.
RC: There’s something about that ritual of getting dressed — almost like putting on armor or stepping into another side of yourself. Did you pick up on that as a kid, watching them get ready to go out?
DW: Yes! My dad was a hard-working man. He had to wear a uniform to work, so anytime he got a chance to express himself, he did it through clothes. And I watched that. My dad says I just remixed everything he did; I’m just the one people get to see. He says I took his style — and, of course, I did. I watched the way he put on clothes, so 1,000%.
RC: Back in your early NBA days, what was it like finding clothes that actually fit? Brands weren’t making sample sizes for players yet, so how did you navigate that? Did you have a stylist, or were you figuring it out on your own?
DW: First of all, shout out to Rachel [Johnson] — she kind of blazed the trail and created a path in styling in the NBA. When I was introduced to her, she was LeBron [James]’ stylist. We didn’t know anything about stylists. That wasn’t a thing in the NBA when we first got in. I used to shop at Burlington Coat Factory before games, just trying to put something together. I came from nothing, so spending a lot of money on clothes wasn’t something I wanted to do. But once the NBA dress code came in, guys wanted to one-up each other. That’s when style started coming into the league. I ended up working with Calyann Barnett, who was under Rachel. We started trying to create a look, figuring out trends, shopping nonstop. As my brand grew, I brought on a PR team, and we started talking about our hopes and goals. That’s when we started meeting designers and brands. At the time, the response was always: NBA players can’t wear our clothes — too tall, arms too long, nothing fits. Nothing was catered to us. But I’d come to New York, go meet with the designers, try things on. We wanted to show we could rock this stuff, especially as our style changed. First, everything was baggy, then it got more tailored, so we could fit into pieces you’d see on a runway. It was a progression. It didn’t happen overnight. It took a lot of work to build myself in this space for a brand or designer to even want to see me in the clothes.
RC: The draft is a major turning point for any player. Coming from humble beginnings, what did that moment mean to you? How did you land on what to wear?
DW: For me, it was a cool process because I’d never done it before. My agent, Henry Thomas, introduced me to a designer in Chicago named Willie Scott who had made suits for a few other players. I sat down with Willie to design two outfits, one for the draft, one for the team press conference. I was trying to be smart about it. I didn’t want to be one of those guys people laugh at 10 or 20 years later. So I went with something simple: My draft suit was navy blue, which is one of my favorite colors, with a baby blue shirt and a navy tie. Real Chicago is simple. The press conference suit was black with a white shirt and maybe a black-and-white polka dot tie. At the time, I thought I was playing it safe. I wasn’t trying to step outside the box. And still, those photos came back to haunt me.
RC: How did it feel being on
stage?
DW: Huge deal. If you go back to our draft, LeBron had this big white suit, Melo [Carmelo Anthony] had a custom one, too. All our suits look crazy now, but everyone was working with someone, getting fitted. That was part of the draft. I remember being in my room, getting ready, putting on my suit. A watch brand had sent me a watch, and I was like, “Oh, look at this watch I’m wearing.” That was a big deal. Now it’s on a whole other level with brands, sponsorships, all of that. But for us, it was kind of simple.
RC: In those early tunnel days, what was the atmosphere like? Was it competitive? Were guys trying to one-up each other?
DW: It wasn’t verbally competitive. If it was, it was internal. We’re all just competitive, period. You’d see someone wear something one game and you’d be like, “I gotta go get this.” Then guys started getting in magazines, getting write-ups, so you’d step your game up. But it wasn’t like trash talk on the court. It was more of an inner competitiveness.
We were all young — me at 21, still older than most — but we were all trying to find ourselves, trying to figure out our style. At first, you just followed the style of the people before you. But once throwback jerseys got phased out, it was like, “Okay, now what is style for us?” So we each had to go off and figure that out.
RC: When you started using fashion to shape your image, did you already understand the long-term value of building a personal brand?
DW: I didn’t realize it was about the long run at first. In the beginning, it was just about finding your fit, your personality. Then the conversation around David Stern changing the NBA dress code started picking up. It became more of a conversation — like, okay, what are we going to do with this? We were still paying for everything out of pocket, so we started saying it’d be great if brands wanted to dress us. I didn’t come in with a big brand; I built that throughout my career. We started going to New York, having meetings, letting people know: “This is what we want to do.” Eventually, it became about going to shows, getting in the room. It was a progression — building whatever that fashion lane was going to be for us.
RC: So it wasn’t one big eureka moment — it sounds like it was a series of experiences that made you think, “Maybe there’s a lane for me beyond just being an athlete.”
DW: You know, before we came in, all the star players in the league, everyone had a signature deal. So, like, that was what they did. Michael Jordan carved out his own lane. You know all the things that he did, from the Gatorade for the world and, you know, the car commercials. … So this was the era of individuals breaking off from the pack and trying to build their own individual brands. And so it was a step-by-step journey.
RC: Do you think social media is what pushed this to the next level — made it more visible, more intense?
DW: I definitely believe social media has something to do with it. I don’t want to give it all the credit, but it changed the landscape. Before, basketball players weren’t considered celebrities — unless you were Michael Jordan. But once social media came in, everything shifted. Players started building brands, and a big part of that became: How do I build my brand on social?
Then you start gaining followers, and now you can go to brands and say, “Look how many people are seeing your clothes when I wear them.” It became a tool to build a fashion profile.
RC: One of the positive outcomes of social media is that players who have built a brand can still be visible, still in the game, in a way, even when they’re injured. Cameron Brink is a recent example.
DW: I think it’s great, because when you’re not playing, you’re invisible in a sense. No one sees you on the court, no one sees you at all. So to be able to use fashion as a tool to stay relevant in certain conversations and not be forgotten, that’s powerful. No one does it better than the WNBA. [Brink has] done an amazing job. Everyone’s watching what she’s wearing when she steps on that bench. She’s built a whole other lane outside the game of basketball. We know she’s good at hooping, but we also know she’s good at putting that stuff on. She’s done a really good job. RC: And then there’s the NIL era. Do you think part of why these young college athletes are so focused on style is because they grew up watching your generation, growing up with social media, seeing the potential for big deals? DW: Yeah. I mean, every generation jumps off the backs of the one before. Guys were dressing well way before us. But the opportunities started to present themselves differently for us than they did for the generation before, and so on. This generation now, they’re winning off the backs of things that myself, LeBron, Chris Paul, Carmelo, Russell Westbrook, Amar’e Stoudemire, and so many others have done. Guys who really took risks — going to fashion shows, the Met Gala, building relationships with designers. There are some guys now with real swag, and we love to see it. It’s personality-driven. A guy might not talk much, but you can still see a lot from him through the tunnel. Now, it’s a big deal what players are wearing when they walk into the arena. When I came into the league, people talked about the game — stats, matchups. Now they talk about fits. I remember walking into the arena in Indiana with pink pants, a brown suede belt, a white button-up tucked in and a bandana wrapped around my wrist. I don’t know what I was going through, but they talked about it on TV. They laughed, because they weren’t used to it. We had to crawl so these guys could walk — and now they’re able to fly, in a sense, when it comes to fashion.
RC: Last time we talked, you mentioned how the game has changed over the years. Can you tell us more about it?
DW: Well, I don’t think it’s one reason. I think you can point to a lot of different things. One thing I’ve had to remind myself is that in the midst of always talking about what isn’t, we don’t talk enough about what is. And what is — right now — we’re watching some of the most talented athletes we’ve ever seen. We always go back and debate who’s better, but the skill level in today’s NBA is on another level. Our great players could match up with anyone from any era, but overall skill across the league? That wasn’t there in our time. These guys are unbelievable. And you also have to factor in rule changes. People talk about the players, but no one talks about how the NBA changed the rules. When I came in, you could hand-check. They took that away to create more offensive freedom, but it also made defense harder. And it’s only continued from there. So, yeah, a lot has changed. But let’s not get it twisted — these are still some of the best athletes in the world, doing what nobody else can do.
RC: I agree. Watching the game now compared to the past, it’s just so different. It feels a lot more tactical and strategic. The court is more open, and it’s harder to get inside the paint. It’s less brute force and more like a chess match.
DW: The court is more spread out now, for sure. You’ve got to give credit to the guys who’ve worked on their talents — most teams have shooters at all five positions. We didn’t have that. We had a four and five on the floor at the same time, both on opposite blocks, so the paint was tight. It was hard to get in there. Now, it’s different. You’ve got five guys out there, and teams shooting 50 threes a game. If you mess up, they’ll knock your face off. So it creates more one-on-one situations. Players train for that, it’s very technical. It’s less about driving and kicking now, because the player has evolved, and so has the game. There’s a lot to break down. I’m a basketball nerd. I could talk about this all day. But yes, for those of us who grew up on ’90s and 2000s basketball, it’s a very different game now. It might not be what we’re used to as fans, but you’ve got to appreciate what you’re watching. The game will keep changing. Ten, 15 years from now, we’ll probably be saying we miss this era because we won’t understand how the next generation plays it.
RC: You’ve always been known as a clutch guy: When the game’s on the line and the ball’s in your hands, what’s going through your head?
DW: Well, for me, by that time in the game, I’ve probably seen every coverage the team’s going to throw at me, so I prepare for all of it. If you’re the guy getting the ball to score, you want to get to your spots, to a move you’ve worked on over and over, something you don’t have to think about. A lot of coaches will run a play to get a guy to his strong hand, to a familiar spot. That’s key. You want to be in a place of strength, not a place where you’re overthinking. But you also have to be aware of who’s on the floor, both defenders and teammates. If you get in trouble, you need to know who you can go to. You block everything else out. Hopefully by that point, you’ve practiced this moment enough that you’re not thinking too much — you’re just reading and reacting. You’re in a flow state — a New York state of mind.
RC: Last question — for you, post-retirement, with everything you’ve built off the court, what kind of legacy do you want to leave for the next generation?
DW: First and foremost, everything I do, I do for my family — my kids. I want to plant footprints so deep they have something to keep chasing. That’s the main goal. For other athletes, you want to become what others were for you. You want to be what Junior Bridgeman, Magic Johnson and Michael Jordan were for the game. And we need more of that — more examples of what life can look like after basketball. I remember being on the Today Show and one of the guests said, “The cool thing about you being here is that you’ve already done something great. You’ve already accomplished what you set out to do. So now, this is extra.” And I feel that. It takes some pressure off. With the Dwyane Wade brand, I want to show there’s more than one way. The next Dwyane Wade doesn’t have to do it how I did it. They can find their path, and I want to help create space for that. That legacy isn’t just professional — it’s personal, too. It’s all about creating tools. I didn’t write that book to make a list. I wrote it because I knew I wasn’t the first to go through it, and I won’t be the last. I want to leave a legacy bigger than basketball.
DW: Huge deal. If you go back to our draft, LeBron had this big white suit, Melo [Carmelo Anthony] had a custom one, too. All our suits look crazy now, but everyone was working with someone, getting fitted. That was part of the draft. I remember being in my room, getting ready, putting on my suit. A watch brand had sent me a watch, and I was like, “Oh, look at this watch I’m wearing.” That was a big deal. Now it’s on a whole other level with brands, sponsorships, all of that. But for us, it was kind of simple.
RC: In those early tunnel days, what was the atmosphere like? Was it competitive? Were guys trying to one-up each other?
DW: It wasn’t verbally competitive. If it was, it was internal. We’re all just competitive, period. You’d see someone wear something one game and you’d be like, “I gotta go get this.” Then guys started getting in magazines, getting write-ups, so you’d step your game up. But it wasn’t like trash talk on the court. It was more of an inner competitiveness.
We were all young — me at 21, still older than most — but we were all trying to find ourselves, trying to figure out our style. At first, you just followed the style of the people before you. But once throwback jerseys got phased out, it was like, “Okay, now what is style for us?” So we each had to go off and figure that out.
RC: When you started using fashion to shape your image, did you already understand the long-term value of building a personal brand?
DW: I didn’t realize it was about the long run at first. In the beginning, it was just about finding your fit, your personality. Then the conversation around David Stern changing the NBA dress code started picking up. It became more of a conversation — like, okay, what are we going to do with this? We were still paying for everything out of pocket, so we started saying it’d be great if brands wanted to dress us. I didn’t come in with a big brand; I built that throughout my career. We started going to New York, having meetings, letting people know: “This is what we want to do.” Eventually, it became about going to shows, getting in the room. It was a progression — building whatever that fashion lane was going to be for us.
RC: So it wasn’t one big eureka moment — it sounds like it was a series of experiences that made you think, “Maybe there’s a lane for me beyond just being an athlete.”
DW: You know, before we came in, all the star players in the league, everyone had a signature deal. So, like, that was what they did. Michael Jordan carved out his own lane. You know all the things that he did, from the Gatorade for the world and, you know, the car commercials. … So this was the era of individuals breaking off from the pack and trying to build their own individual brands. And so it was a step-by-step journey.
RC: Do you think social media is what pushed this to the next level — made it more visible, more intense?
DW: I definitely believe social media has something to do with it. I don’t want to give it all the credit, but it changed the landscape. Before, basketball players weren’t considered celebrities — unless you were Michael Jordan. But once social media came in, everything shifted. Players started building brands, and a big part of that became: How do I build my brand on social?
Then you start gaining followers, and now you can go to brands and say, “Look how many people are seeing your clothes when I wear them.” It became a tool to build a fashion profile.
RC: One of the positive outcomes of social media is that players who have built a brand can still be visible, still in the game, in a way, even when they’re injured. Cameron Brink is a recent example.
DW: I think it’s great, because when you’re not playing, you’re invisible in a sense. No one sees you on the court, no one sees you at all. So to be able to use fashion as a tool to stay relevant in certain conversations and not be forgotten, that’s powerful. No one does it better than the WNBA. [Brink has] done an amazing job. Everyone’s watching what she’s wearing when she steps on that bench. She’s built a whole other lane outside the game of basketball. We know she’s good at hooping, but we also know she’s good at putting that stuff on. She’s done a really good job. RC: And then there’s the NIL era. Do you think part of why these young college athletes are so focused on style is because they grew up watching your generation, growing up with social media, seeing the potential for big deals? DW: Yeah. I mean, every generation jumps off the backs of the one before. Guys were dressing well way before us. But the opportunities started to present themselves differently for us than they did for the generation before, and so on. This generation now, they’re winning off the backs of things that myself, LeBron, Chris Paul, Carmelo, Russell Westbrook, Amar’e Stoudemire, and so many others have done. Guys who really took risks — going to fashion shows, the Met Gala, building relationships with designers. There are some guys now with real swag, and we love to see it. It’s personality-driven. A guy might not talk much, but you can still see a lot from him through the tunnel. Now, it’s a big deal what players are wearing when they walk into the arena. When I came into the league, people talked about the game — stats, matchups. Now they talk about fits. I remember walking into the arena in Indiana with pink pants, a brown suede belt, a white button-up tucked in and a bandana wrapped around my wrist. I don’t know what I was going through, but they talked about it on TV. They laughed, because they weren’t used to it. We had to crawl so these guys could walk — and now they’re able to fly, in a sense, when it comes to fashion.
RC: Last time we talked, you mentioned how the game has changed over the years. Can you tell us more about it?
DW: Well, I don’t think it’s one reason. I think you can point to a lot of different things. One thing I’ve had to remind myself is that in the midst of always talking about what isn’t, we don’t talk enough about what is. And what is — right now — we’re watching some of the most talented athletes we’ve ever seen. We always go back and debate who’s better, but the skill level in today’s NBA is on another level. Our great players could match up with anyone from any era, but overall skill across the league? That wasn’t there in our time. These guys are unbelievable. And you also have to factor in rule changes. People talk about the players, but no one talks about how the NBA changed the rules. When I came in, you could hand-check. They took that away to create more offensive freedom, but it also made defense harder. And it’s only continued from there. So, yeah, a lot has changed. But let’s not get it twisted — these are still some of the best athletes in the world, doing what nobody else can do.
RC: I agree. Watching the game now compared to the past, it’s just so different. It feels a lot more tactical and strategic. The court is more open, and it’s harder to get inside the paint. It’s less brute force and more like a chess match.
DW: The court is more spread out now, for sure. You’ve got to give credit to the guys who’ve worked on their talents — most teams have shooters at all five positions. We didn’t have that. We had a four and five on the floor at the same time, both on opposite blocks, so the paint was tight. It was hard to get in there. Now, it’s different. You’ve got five guys out there, and teams shooting 50 threes a game. If you mess up, they’ll knock your face off. So it creates more one-on-one situations. Players train for that, it’s very technical. It’s less about driving and kicking now, because the player has evolved, and so has the game. There’s a lot to break down. I’m a basketball nerd. I could talk about this all day. But yes, for those of us who grew up on ’90s and 2000s basketball, it’s a very different game now. It might not be what we’re used to as fans, but you’ve got to appreciate what you’re watching. The game will keep changing. Ten, 15 years from now, we’ll probably be saying we miss this era because we won’t understand how the next generation plays it.
RC: You’ve always been known as a clutch guy: When the game’s on the line and the ball’s in your hands, what’s going through your head?
DW: Well, for me, by that time in the game, I’ve probably seen every coverage the team’s going to throw at me, so I prepare for all of it. If you’re the guy getting the ball to score, you want to get to your spots, to a move you’ve worked on over and over, something you don’t have to think about. A lot of coaches will run a play to get a guy to his strong hand, to a familiar spot. That’s key. You want to be in a place of strength, not a place where you’re overthinking. But you also have to be aware of who’s on the floor, both defenders and teammates. If you get in trouble, you need to know who you can go to. You block everything else out. Hopefully by that point, you’ve practiced this moment enough that you’re not thinking too much — you’re just reading and reacting. You’re in a flow state — a New York state of mind.
RC: Last question — for you, post-retirement, with everything you’ve built off the court, what kind of legacy do you want to leave for the next generation?
DW: First and foremost, everything I do, I do for my family — my kids. I want to plant footprints so deep they have something to keep chasing. That’s the main goal. For other athletes, you want to become what others were for you. You want to be what Junior Bridgeman, Magic Johnson and Michael Jordan were for the game. And we need more of that — more examples of what life can look like after basketball. I remember being on the Today Show and one of the guests said, “The cool thing about you being here is that you’ve already done something great. You’ve already accomplished what you set out to do. So now, this is extra.” And I feel that. It takes some pressure off. With the Dwyane Wade brand, I want to show there’s more than one way. The next Dwyane Wade doesn’t have to do it how I did it. They can find their path, and I want to help create space for that. That legacy isn’t just professional — it’s personal, too. It’s all about creating tools. I didn’t write that book to make a list. I wrote it because I knew I wasn’t the first to go through it, and I won’t be the last. I want to leave a legacy bigger than basketball.