For two long decades, the National Basketball Association was LeBron James. Every major headline, every heated rivalry, and nearly every defining storyline pointed straight at the King. He was the sun around which the basketball universe revolved. But now, as he enters what feels like his 23rd season at the age of 40, a profound and unmistakable shift is taking place—an evolution that is less of a sudden collapse and more of a slow-motion sunset of singular dominance.
The uncomfortable truth, revealed not just in raw numbers but in the stunning success of the Los Angeles Lakers without their future Hall of Famer, is that his era as the league’s central focal point is over. We are now witnessing the first pages of the final, crucial chapter of one of basketball’s biggest stories.
The evidence for this seismic shift is painted loud and clear across his stat line.
The Fading Numbers and the Architect’s New Role
Any discussion of LeBron’s current game must begin with a cold comparison to his own historic greatness. Across his illustrious career, he has been the benchmark, averaging an incredible 27 points, 7.5 rebounds, and 7.4 assists, shooting over 50% from the field. Last season, those numbers were still firmly in superstar territory, sitting at 24.4 points, 7.8 rebounds, and 8.2 assists.
However, this season, those expectations are being violently recalibrated. LeBron is currently putting up 16.5 points and 5 boards, alongside 8.3 assists in 32.5 minutes. On paper, if any other forward in the league were producing those figures, they would be immediately hailed as an All-Star caliber player. But because this is LeBron James, the 16.5 points and 5 rebounds look like a serious drop-off.
The most telling sign of his new reality is the profound change in his style of play. The man who once attacked the rim with terrifying, non-stop force is now “way more selective” about when he powers up. He is taking far fewer shots, with his attempts plummeting from 18.1 last season down to just 13.3 now. His scoring has officially dropped from undisputed superstar levels to numbers one would expect from a solid, high-level starter.
He has transitioned, fully and completely, into “full playmaker mode”. This version is the creator, the maestro who sets everyone else up and lets them be the ones to truly shine. He is still running the offense, as proven by his 8.3 assists, but the relentless, chaotic pressure he used to unleash upon defenses just isn’t hitting with the same wave-like intensity anymore. He now slows the game down and lets others carry the offensive load when it is the smart move.
This careful, controlled approach is underscored by one major statistical anomaly: his turnovers are down to just 2.0 per night, compared to 3.7 last season. While this looks like heightened ball security, a deeper look reveals it likely means he’s simply “not taking the same wild risks,” or squeezing those impossible, tight-window passes, and not barreling into bodies trying to create something out of thin air. He has opted for the safer, more calculated path, a necessary evolution for a player in the twilight of his career.
The Crippling Cost of Age: The Free Throw Plunge and the 65-Game Rule
While the drops in points and shot attempts are quantifiable adjustments, there is one number that tells a story of physical and mental fatigue, hinting at a loss of confidence in his most dominant trait: his ability to attack.
Last season, LeBron was a steady and reliable free throw shooter, connecting on 78.2% of his attempts. This year, that rhythm has completely shattered. He is sitting at a shocking 50% from the stripe, only making half his shots. This is a massive, inexplicable slide for someone who built his career on rhythm and precision.
This free-throw freefall shows something far deeper than just mechanics. It hints that he is not getting to the line with the same confidence, power, or swagger he once possessed. When he does get there, the rhythm is off, the timing is lost, and the trust in his own drive looks fundamentally different. His entire approach to attacking the basket is changing in front of our eyes.
Compounding this is the simple reality of availability. The real story this season is the fact he’s barely been on the court, playing only four games through the early part of the schedule. A sciatica issue—a nerve problem running through his lower back and leg—kept him out until mid-November. Then, just as he was regaining a semblance of rhythm, he was sidelined again with right foot soreness.
The team calls it “precautionary,” but the reality is that “at 40, the body doesn’t bounce back like it used to.” Heavy minutes sting more, and back-to-back games feel like an entire mission.
The NBA’s new 65-game rule, which mandates a minimum number of appearances to qualify for awards like MVP or All-NBA, makes his situation tragically clear. With the games he has already missed, those talks are “finished before they even begin”. For nearly 20 years, the only question was which All-NBA team he would make; this year, the honest answer is none. Not because he lost the talent, but because the physical reality of a 40-year-old body simply “won’t let him be on the court enough.”
The True Revelation: The Lakers Thrive Without Their King
The most compelling piece of evidence confirming the end of LeBron’s absolute command is the unbelievable fact that the Lakers are thriving in his absence. They currently sit near the top of the Western Conference with a fantastic 15-4 record.
The team won every game he played, going four straight with him on the floor, but the crucial detail is this: they went 11 to 4 when he didn’t suit up. They were dominating, dropping over 115 points a night like it was nothing. The message is loud and clear: this squad does not just survive without LeBron—they look “confident, dangerous and fully capable on their own.”
A massive reason for this independent success is the meteoric rise of the team’s true new engine: Luka Dončić.
Luka is going absolutely nuclear this season, putting up astronomical numbers that place him clearly in his “own universe.” He is the number one option, the unquestioned engine behind everything the Lakers do.
When LeBron is on the floor, the whole offense slows down a bit, becoming more controlled and calculated as the team tries to feed both superstars. But the moment LeBron sits, Luka “hits a different gear”. The pace jumps, the ball starts popping, and he relentlessly spams the pick-and-roll with Deandre Ayton, hunting mismatches and dictating every possession. With no older superstar needing touches, Luka’s freedom shoots through the ceiling.
The Next Wave: Reaves and the Future of LA
The success story does not end with Luka. The team is now held up by a new, emerging triumvirate, the second pillar of which is Austin Reaves, the breakout dude nobody expected to explode this way.
Reaves is averaging star-level numbers: 28.8 points, 5.8 boards, and 6.8 assists with stunning shooting splits. When LeBron is playing, Reaves slides into a connector role—a secondary ball handler, cutter, and spot-up sniper, moving into the open space created by the star power around him. That balance tells the story: this team no longer needs LeBron to control every possession.
But when LeBron sits, Reaves transforms into “a whole different player”. He becomes aggressive, takes ownership of the offense, and runs things like a legit floor general. He’s seen running pick-and-rolls, attacking defenders one-on-one, and going to the rim without second-guessing himself. He plays with an “icy confidence that screams real star potential”. Those 30-point nights he’s dropping are not flukes; they are the natural result of a player stepping into a vacant star role.
Rounding out this new core is Deandre Ayton, quietly having the breakout season many predicted years ago. He is putting up 16 points and 8.6 boards while shooting a wild 71% from the field. His job is simple yet crucial: set strong screens, roll hard, and finish. With both Luka and Reaves drawing attention on the perimeter, Ayton gets easy looks all game long. When LeBron sits, Ayton becomes Luka’s go-to partner in the two-man game, finishing basically anything near the rim.
A New Kind of Greatness
Put all of this evidence together, and the position of LeBron James on this new Lakers squad becomes obvious. When he is on the floor, he absolutely makes them better; his leadership and IQ still show every single night, and the offense settles down with purpose.
However, the real shift is this: the team does not rely on him anymore. They can win without him, and not just sneak by, but dominate. Luka is the franchise cornerstone, Reaves is leveling up fast, and Ayton ties the whole system together.
For most 40-year-olds in the league, this role—starting on a contender, dropping 16.5 points and 8.3 assists—would be a fantasy. But with LeBron, it hits different. He is not being compared to other veterans; he is being compared to his own mountainous greatness. Fans remember the version of LeBron who carried entire squads and dominated every single possession.
Now, they are watching a more supportive, guiding presence, helping the next wave shine instead of being the single force powering everything.
This does not mean LeBron is anywhere close to done. He is still clearly energized, lighting up during big plays and coaching up the younger guys. There are moments—quick bursts where he runs the floor and controls the game—where he suddenly looks 10 years younger.
But the story is unequivocally different now. This season is not about whether LeBron is still one of the best in the league; it’s about watching a living legend adjust to a new reality—a reality where the team thrives without him at the center of everything. He is learning how to play a new version of greatness alongside the next wave of stars.
The name still hits hard, but when you zoom in on the numbers, the role, and the presence, they are no longer the same as before. For the first time in 20 years, the Lakers don’t fully revolve around him. They look balanced, confident, and ready to handle business whether he is running the floor or watching from the sideline. That shift—the ability to dominate without the King’s singular presence—is the clearest, most undeniable sign that a whole new chapter has officially started in Los Angeles.
