Summer League Diaries, 2026 edition
Caleb Wilson, Egor Demin, Hansen Yang, heads on sticks, craps, and CeraVe
Summer League is a special place.
Even with the tickets rising to $68 ($50 + $18 in fees online, or a straight $68 at the in-person box office, which seems wrong), it’s the only place where you can get ten straight hours of NBA-adjacent basketball per day. And for one weekend, the wider Las Vegas ecosystem allows you to consistently rub shoulders, sometimes literally, with the league’s high and mighty.
Example: While I pounded away on a story, my traveling buddies were prowling the Aria Friday night, looking for a craps table. They found one with a solitary vacant spot, which happened to be next to Jamal Murray.
It’s not uncommon to catch players at various games on the Strip, although they aren’t always slumming it on the (relatively) lower minimum tables. My friends slid in and started rolling.
The dealers changed, and the new one asked everyone what they were in Vegas for. A bachelorette party, said a trio of happy, constantly losing ladies. To catch Summer League, said my guys, glancing knowingly at Murray.
Rocking a resplendent Jujutsu Kaisen shirt, the Nugget quietly replied,