Should NBA Players Still Be in the Olympics?

Mark Cuban says no. The injury risk says maybe. The Olympic spirit says… it’s complicated.

Authors Note: My interest in nuanced science began with my training in sports medicine, and my passion for that field started on the track… and love for the Olympics Every now and then, that background leads me to weigh in on issues in sports — like this one. If you’re here at Beyond the Abstract looking for insightful commentary on research integrity and scientific nuance, stay tuned — there’s plenty more to come!

This morning, an article about Mark Cuban proposing an age limit for Olympic basketball popped into my newsfeed. Curious, I clicked. In short, Cuban argues that NBA players are taking unnecessary injury risks by competing in the Olympics — risks that could jeopardize team owners’ financial investments. His proposed solution? Limit Olympic rosters to players aged 21 and under, so the sport’s biggest stars aren’t playing with fire. There was so much packed into that one idea — about risk, value, and the Olympic spirit — I had to write about it.

Cumulative Loading and Injury Risk

Not long ago, I wrote about NBA star Tyrese Haliburton tearing his Achilles tendon during Game 7 of the NBA Finals. While the injury shocked many, it was likely the unfortunate result of trying to push through accumulated wear and tear. The NBA regular season spans 82 games — add the playoffs, and it’s no surprise that musculoskeletal damage builds up and the risk of a major injury steadily increases.

Now layer Olympic prep on top of that. Players get little to no real break after the NBA season before jumping into training and competition for Team USA. And once the Olympics wrap up? It’s already time to gear up for the next NBA season. The result is a relentless cycle of load without adequate recovery—essentially, a setup for injury.

To be clear, I’m not aware of any formal studies that have directly examined whether Olympic participation increases injury risk. But if someone out there has the data, let’s collaborate and find out.

Who Pays the Price?

Mark Cuban certainly thinks NBA franchises do. The longtime Mavericks owner has again blasted Olympic basketball, arguing that teams “give away” their stars for free while absorbing all the injury risk. He isn’t wrong about the imbalance — NBC, the IOC, and FIBA profit handsomely from marquee names like Haliburton without paying a cent to the franchises (or the athletes) whose careers are on the line. Cuban’s gripe, though, surfaces a deeper truth: Olympic basketball, unlike most Olympic disciplines, no longer embodies the Games’ ideal of pure competition and national pride. It’s become a high-stakes exercise in asset protection and risk management.

injury persisted during the Olympics and led to him having an uncharacteristly underwhelming performance.

The trade-off was a shortened off-season and a 2024-25 campaign begun on less-than-fresh legs. One soft-tissue issue led to another, and by the Finals he ruptured his Achilles. Result: the Pacers lose their All-Star for the entire 2025-26 season, and Haliburton’s future earnings take a serious hit.

Freak Accident or Inevitable Breakdown?

Did Olympic participation directly cause the Achilles tear? Of course not — we can’t prove cause-and-effect for a single athlete. Even the best study could only quantify how much the Olympic Games might elevate risk on average. But when the injury sequence includes hamstring → hurried return → Olympic load → shortened recovery → calf strain → catastrophic injury, we have to consider there’s a realistic possibility it contributed.

Even if an injury isn’t the result of overuse — and truly is a freak, unpredictable event — the consequences don’t change. Take Paul George’s compound fracture during a Team USA scrimmage. Let’s assume it was a pure accident, unrelated to cumulative load. The outcome remains the same: he suffered a major injury that derailed his entire NBA season, and it happened outside of NBA competition.

If you owned an NBA team with players contracted to perform at their best, would you loan their skills out to somebody else and just hope for the best?

Don’t Cheapen The Olympic Spirit

The Olympics pitch themselves as a celebration of national pride and sport, but in men’s basketball, it’s a corporate transaction where the NBA plays donor, not beneficiary. Sending a max-contract athlete into a game they weren’t paid to play, for a medal they can’t directly monetize, starts to feel like bad business.

But that’s exactly what makes Olympic basketball so strange. Compare it to “true” Olympic sports — track and field, swimming, and gymnastics, as well as the lower profile (at least in the U.S.) sports like archery and table tennis. In those events, the Olympics are the destination. There’s no league, no billionaire owner, no sideline waiting to sign your next deal. These athletes live for the shot at a podium.

Mark Cuban’s latest proposal is to make Olympic basketball a U21 event — modeling it after soccer, where the World Cup is the marquee tournament and the Olympics are essentially a youth competition. The logic is clear: NBA owners want to protect their high-value players, and a younger team would lower injury risks and still showcase future talent. That does make sense.

So what message does it send if basketball — a sport with immense global reach — sends the JV squad?

In my opinion, treating the Olympics like a developmental league cheapens what the Games mean for the athletes who still treat it as the pinnacle of their careers. Track athletes don’t run for a World Cup. Simone Biles isn’t saving herself for an alternate championship. For stars like Sha’Carri Richardson, Usain Bolt, or Katie Ledecky, the Olympic Games are the biggest stage on earth. Hardcore fans may follow their sports year-round (Diamond League track or USA Gymnastics national championships, for example), but for the rest of the world, they get just two weeks every four years to shine.

NBA players, by contrast, already perform on a global stage — night after night, for 7 or 8 months a year — driven by corporate sponsorships, media contracts, and relentless demand. Their bodies bear that load. So it’s understandable if they don’t want to tack on another high-stakes tournament for national pride. That’s not a knock against them — it’s a recognition of what they already give.

Where does that leave younger players or those on the fringe of the NBA? It’s complicated. They may be eager to compete, but if they’re not the best in the world, should they really represent the U.S. on the sport’s most visible stage? That’s the tension: between honoring the Olympic ideal and preserving the health and careers of the athletes we already ask so much from.

Should Basketball Even Be an Olympic Sport Anymore?

Olympic basketball still wears the patriotic costume — flags, anthems, medal ceremonies. But the contradiction is hard to ignore. The Games are marketed as pure sport, yet for NBA players, they’ve become a complex calculus of risk, branding, and physical toll — wrapped in red, white, and blue.

If we want to honor the Olympic ideal — if we truly believe the Games should showcase the world’s best at their best—then we need to be honest about the cost. Right now, we’re asking athletes already stretched to their limits to give even more. We celebrate them when they suit up, and then forget them when their bodies break down.

If NBA players don’t belong in the Olympics because the risk is too high for both players and owners, then maybe we shouldn’t just water it down — we should ask the harder question: Should basketball be in the Olympics at all? The same goes for soccer, tennis, golf, and other sports where the Olympics often feel like a sideshow to Grand Slams, World Cups, or Tour calendars. When big-money sports send developmental athletes, the Olympics stop being the world’s greatest competition and start becoming a selectively important exhibition.

So maybe the real question isn’t whether NBA players should be at the Olympics.
Maybe it’s whether Olympic basketball is still Olympic at all.

And when your best players are limping into the summer, it’s worth asking:
Are we celebrating national pride — or just squeezing one more game out of a tired body?

Mark Cuban may sound cynical. But he’s not wrong to ask: Who actually benefits here?

What are your thoughts?

• Should NBA players continue to compete in the Olympics?

• Do you think the Games still represent the Olympic ideal—or has the calculus of risk and revenue changed the equation?

• And if basketball, tennis, or golf no longer fit the Olympic model, should we rethink their inclusion entirely?

I'd love to hear your take — especially if you’ve followed these sports closely or have thoughts on where the Olympic spirit truly lives.