Stacey King, who won three NBA titles with the Chicago Bulls dynasty and later became the franchise's signature broadcast voice, has died at 59. The Bulls announced his death on Sunday.
The team did not disclose a cause of death or the circumstances surrounding it. What the organization did offer, in lengthy, personal statements from its top executives, made clear just how much King meant to the franchise and to the city he called home for more than three decades.
King's connection to Chicago basketball was unusually deep. He arrived as a player in 1989, drafted sixth overall out of Oklahoma. He stayed through the first three-peat. And long after his playing days ended, he came back to the booth, becoming the voice that narrated Bulls basketball for a generation of fans who never saw Michael Jordan play in person.
Chicago picked King with the No. 6 overall selection in the 1989 NBA Draft. He stepped into a roster that was on the verge of something historic. From 1990 to 1993, King was part of the Bulls squad that won three consecutive championships, the franchise's first three-peat, a run that transformed professional basketball and made Chicago the center of the sports world.
King was not the star. He averaged 6.4 points across 438 career games. But he was there, on the bench, in the locker room, in the grind of those playoff runs, when the Bulls became the most dominant team in the sport.
After four full seasons in Chicago, King moved on. He played for the Minnesota Timberwolves, the Miami Heat, the Boston Celtics, and the Dallas Mavericks before hanging it up. His playing career took him across the league, but Chicago is where he left his mark.
King launched his broadcasting career in 2006, joining what was then CSN Chicago, now the Chicago Sports Network. He became the color analyst fans associated with Bulls games, known for an energy and personality that made him impossible to mistake for anyone else.
Bulls chairman Jerry Reinsdorf called King "a cherished member of the Bulls family and one of the truly unique personalities in our organization's history."
"His connection to Chicago, the Bulls and our fans spanned more than three decades, first as a player and later as the unmistakable voice that helped bring Bulls basketball into the homes of generations of fans."
Reinsdorf added that the organization would "miss him deeply and remember the joy, energy, humor, candor and passion he brought to our organization, our broadcasts and our fans every day."
Michael Reinsdorf, the Bulls' president and CEO, said King "loved being a Bull." That love, he said, showed in everything King did, on the court, behind the microphone, and in the way he engaged with fans one-on-one.
"He had a unique gift for bringing people together and making every game feel personal. He brought an energy and love for the game that came through in every broadcast, helping fans feel connected to our team."
The younger Reinsdorf went further, painting a picture of a man whose impact extended well beyond basketball analysis.
"Whether it was through a broadcast, a conversation or a photo with a fan, Stacey made people feel seen and valued. We were fortunate to know him not only as a player and broadcaster, but as a friend. Stacey genuinely cared about people, and he made our organization better. We will miss him dearly, and his impact, memory and legacy will remain a part of the Chicago Bulls forever."
Those are not boilerplate corporate condolences. They describe a man who treated the people around him, fans included, as if they mattered. That kind of character doesn't show up on a stat sheet, but it's the reason a role player who averaged six points a game became one of the most beloved figures in franchise history.
King's timeline with the Bulls organization tells the story on its own. Drafted in 1989. Championship rings in 1991, 1992, and 1993. A broadcasting career that began in 2006 and continued for years on the Chicago Sports Network. More than thirty years tied to one franchise and one city.
Photo captions from the era show King on the floor at the Capital Centre in Landover, Maryland, playing against the Washington Bullets, and at the Palace of Auburn Hills defending Detroit's Bill Laimbeer, both circa 1990, when the Bulls were building toward their dynasty. King was in the trenches during those early battles, part of a team that had to fight through the league's toughest competition to reach the top.
The cause of King's death remains unknown. The Bulls offered no details beyond confirming the loss. At 59, his death is untimely by any measure.
In an era when professional sports figures cycle through cities, brands, and loyalties at dizzying speed, King's story stands apart. He planted roots. He gave back. He stayed. He found a second career that let him share his love of the game with the same city that gave him his start. And by every account from the people who knew him best, he did it with warmth, humor, and genuine care for the people around him.
Fifty-nine is far too young. But the life Stacey King built, as a champion, a broadcaster, and a man who made fans feel like they belonged, is the kind of legacy that outlasts any stat line.