What's working and what isn't three years into the NBA Cup?
Three seasons into the NBA’s in-season tournament, now firmly branded as the NBA Cup, the league has enough evidence to separate what’s thriving from what still feels experimental.
On the positive side, the Cup has clearly injected energy into a portion of the calendar that used to feel sleepy. Group-stage nights carry a playoff-lite intensity, with players and coaches treating tiebreakers, point differentials, and advancement scenarios like real stakes. The league’s decision to lean into distinctive court designs and broadcast packages has also worked, signaling to casual fans that these are not just ordinary regular-season games.
From a league perspective, the Cup has succeeded in a key strategic goal: creating a second “tentpole” competition that can be sold to broadcasters and sponsors without extending the schedule. Because every Cup game (outside of the final) still counts in the standings, the league has avoided the trap of meaninglessly separate exhibitions. The financial incentives for players and teams, while modest compared to full-season salaries, have proven strong enough to matter in locker rooms and front offices.
What hasn’t fully clicked is universal buy-in from fans. Many still struggle to track the format and understand when Cup games are happening versus traditional matchups. The novelty of themed courts has also drawn mixed reviews, with some praising the fresh look and others arguing it can be visually distracting. And while the Cup has produced memorable atmospheres, it has yet to establish a signature tradition or moment that feels essential to the sport’s larger history.
There’s also lingering debate over competitive balance. Some critics question whether the group draw and tiebreaker rules favor deeper, already-elite rosters, limiting the Cinderella stories that make cup competitions in other sports so compelling.
Still, the NBA Cup has moved from curiosity to fixture. The next step is refinement: simplifying the format, sharpening the storytelling, and building a mythology that makes lifting the Cup feel like more than a midseason bonus.
On the positive side, the Cup has clearly injected energy into a portion of the calendar that used to feel sleepy. Group-stage nights carry a playoff-lite intensity, with players and coaches treating tiebreakers, point differentials, and advancement scenarios like real stakes. The league’s decision to lean into distinctive court designs and broadcast packages has also worked, signaling to casual fans that these are not just ordinary regular-season games.
From a league perspective, the Cup has succeeded in a key strategic goal: creating a second “tentpole” competition that can be sold to broadcasters and sponsors without extending the schedule. Because every Cup game (outside of the final) still counts in the standings, the league has avoided the trap of meaninglessly separate exhibitions. The financial incentives for players and teams, while modest compared to full-season salaries, have proven strong enough to matter in locker rooms and front offices.
What hasn’t fully clicked is universal buy-in from fans. Many still struggle to track the format and understand when Cup games are happening versus traditional matchups. The novelty of themed courts has also drawn mixed reviews, with some praising the fresh look and others arguing it can be visually distracting. And while the Cup has produced memorable atmospheres, it has yet to establish a signature tradition or moment that feels essential to the sport’s larger history.
There’s also lingering debate over competitive balance. Some critics question whether the group draw and tiebreaker rules favor deeper, already-elite rosters, limiting the Cinderella stories that make cup competitions in other sports so compelling.
Still, the NBA Cup has moved from curiosity to fixture. The next step is refinement: simplifying the format, sharpening the storytelling, and building a mythology that makes lifting the Cup feel like more than a midseason bonus.
