Bold truth first: the Joel Embiid era as we’ve known it has ended, and acknowledging that reality now is the healthiest way to move forward. Some readers may be ready to say it aloud, others might still be clinging to the possibility; either stance is valid and doesn’t change the fact that Embiid can no longer be the consistent, dominant centerpiece needed for a championship run with the Sixers. In all honesty, many would argue this has been true for a while. Still, giving it one final, honest reassessment—driven by how extraordinary Embiid could be at his peak—felt like the prudent, respectful path.
To illustrate a related, human moment, consider anticipatory grief—the mental process of preparing for a loss while it’s still unfolding. I encountered the term in Rebecca DiTore’s book I’d Still Choose You, which chronicles her husband Mike’s battle with brain cancer and his eventual passing in 2022. Mike’s story resonated with me personally because I first learned of his situation when he was diagnosed in 2021, a hopeful father of two. If Mike happens to read this, I hope he’d be pleased to see his memory invoked in this context.
Anticipatory grief, in that story, is about processing the looming end while it’s still present. It helps you position yourself to support the person suffering and to sustain those around you when the end arrives. I’m experiencing a parallel now with Embiid. I recognize there’s little chance he’ll regain his pre-fall form consistently enough for a true title-contending era. We glimpse flashes of the old Embiid—the five-minute stretches where his dribble drive leads to smart 15-foot jumpers, or a sequence of unguardable handoffs and blocked shots—but those moments underscore how rare they’ve become and how rarely they translate into sustained production.
Even if he were to lock in that form again, the likelihood of a healthy, playoffs-long run remains minimal. A true playoff push demands months of steady contributions, not sporadic bursts. The notion of Embiid anchoring a deep playoff run, season after season, simply isn’t realistic in the current framework.
The idea of a “sixth man Embiid” or a perpetual role-player Embiid also doesn’t hold up. Daryl Morey himself addressed this on a recent podcast, making it clear that expecting a redefined, reduced role for Embiid isn’t the plan.
What makes this reckoning especially urgent is Tyrese Maxey’s rise. Mike O’Connor eloquently explored Maxey’s ascent, highlighting how he’s evolved into a star—arguably at a level that could sustain a title run without Embiid as the primary engine. It’s a development no one quite anticipated, and while it doesn’t automatically guarantee a championship with Maxey as the top player, it certainly makes the possibility feel more plausible. It also reshapes how we view Embiid’s future on the roster and his max contract status, since holding a max deal while Maxey is ascending may not be a prudent or productive use of cap space and roster spots.
In light of this, I’m preparing for a difficult transition over the coming weeks. The end of Embiid’s era as the definitive franchise centerpiece will likely require difficult decisions about the roster and salary structure—perhaps even trade considerations that fans won’t relish, or a candid, potentially uncomfortable discussion about medical retirement implications. If such steps prove necessary, they’ll be painful but perhaps essential to align the team with its new reality.
Going through this process now helps me approach the eventual changes with clarity and fairness—for Embiid, for the team, and for Sixers fans like you. There will be moments of frustration, sadness, or denial, and that’s all part of a long, graceful adjustment. This isn’t merely about nostalgia for The Process-era greatness; it’s about recognizing the evolution of the team and making thoughtful decisions that honor both the past and the future.
A final note of appreciation: Rebecca DiTore has established The Small Moments Foundation in Mike’s name to bring joy and relief to children and families facing cancer-related loss. If you’re moved to contribute, you can support their mission at smallmomentsfoundation.org.
