Stacey King, Bulls champion and iconic broadcaster, dies at 59

The Chicago Bulls announced Sunday that Stacey King, a former player who later became the franchise’s Emmy-winning television broadcaster, has died at 59. The team said it was notified of his death by a family member, and it did not immediately provide additional details. In a statement, Bulls chairman Jerry Reinsdorf praised King as a cherished, uniquely Chicago figure whose connection to the organization spanned more than three decades, first as a championship contributor and later as the voice that brought Bulls basketball into fans’ homes.

King’s first chapter with the Bulls began when Chicago selected him with the sixth overall pick of the 1989 NBA Draft after a standout college career at Oklahoma. He went on to play five seasons in Chicago and was part of the Bulls’ run of three consecutive NBA championships from 1991 through 1993. In that span, the Bulls’ frontcourt mix helped define a style that could defend at a high level while supporting the star power of the era, including Michael Jordan and the team’s core leadership.

From a production standpoint, King was never a lead scorer, but he offered size, toughness, and a steady presence for a roster built to win in the postseason. Over his time with Chicago, he averaged 6.6 points and 3.3 rebounds, numbers that captured the kind of role that matters most when the playoffs shrink everything down to execution. His inclusion on each of the Bulls’ championship rosters underscored the franchise’s ability to find complementary pieces, not just headlines.

After retiring, King returned to the organization in broadcasting, where his credibility as a former player became a foundation for a second career. Bulls executives described him as someone who genuinely connected with people, bringing the same energy and candid instincts to the broadcast booth that he brought to the court. The team noted that King spent more than two decades as a commentator on Bulls games. A Bulls release from the late 2000s described him as a color commentator in partnership on local television, indicating how quickly he moved from former player to trusted analyst.

King’s on-air identity was shaped by humor and an almost conversational approach, qualities that made him especially valuable as the Bulls’ fan base evolved into newer generations. Bulls broadcasts often rely on a blend of breakdown and entertainment, and King offered both. The team’s statement credited him with helping make games feel personal, and reports around his death pointed to catchphrases and a playful vocabulary that became familiar during eras associated with stars such as Derrick Rose.

His influence also extended beyond game nights. In a recent public appearance on a Bulls-related platform, King discussed enjoying the work and approaching each game as something he wanted to be part of, win or lose. That outlook, combined with his ability to speak with the authority of someone who had played for the franchise at the highest level, helped explain why longtime fans viewed him as more than a commentator.

For the Bulls, the immediate impact will be felt most in the broadcast schedule, where producers will need to fill a role that had become part of the franchise’s rhythm. For the broader NBA, King’s death is another reminder of how quickly the league’s defining eras move from the floor to the microphone. And for Chicago basketball history, he will be remembered with uncommon dual relevance: champion as a player, and storyteller as a broadcaster.