The Gregg Popovich Era Ends, But His Standard Lives On
Gregg Charles Popovich never cared much for the spotlight. He ducked cameras on game nights, rolled his eyes at sideline reporters, and treated press conferences like a necessary evil — one‑word answers, the occasional sarcastic quip, then back to the locker room.
Yet on a warm May morning in San Antonio, the spotlight found him anyway. After 29 seasons, 1,422 regular‑season wins, five championships, and enough dry humor to keep everyone on their toes, Pop stepped down as head coach of the Spurs.
He isn’t leaving town — he’s sliding full‑time into the president of basketball operations chair — but the sideline will look different without that silver‑haired scowl pacing a few steps in front of the bench.
From Whistles to Whiteboards: Handing the Reigns to Mitch Johnson
Popovich’s first order of business was making sure the handoff felt seamless. Enter Mitch Johnson, the Stanford sharpshooter turned long‑time Spurs assistant who spent most of the season steering the ship after Pop’s stroke in November.
Johnson’s record on paper won’t make anyone forget the Tim Duncan glory years. But ask around the facility and you’ll hear the same thing: continuity matters. The Spurs’ brain trust — RC Buford, Brian Wright, and managing partner Peter J. Holt — wanted someone who speaks fluent Spurs. Johnson does. He’s been in the room for draft‑night debates, player development labs in Austin, and those marathon film sessions where Pop pauses a possession six times just to point out a lazy close‑out.
In a statement, Johnson spoke about what it means to be trusted with this opportunity:
I am truly grateful and honored to receive this incredible opportunity. I am thankful for Coach Pop, RC (Buford), Brian (Wright), and Peter (Holt) for trusting me to carry on our culture and I promise to give this responsibility everything I have to make Spurs fans proud.
When Health Talks, Even Legends Listen
Popovich is 76 — a spry 76, mind you, still able to crush a post‑practice bike ride — but the NBA sideline is a brutal treadmill. After his mild stroke last November, doctors advised a slower pace. Pop tried. He stayed connected via Zoom, dropped by practices, even popped into a few games down the stretch.
Then came an April scare at a local restaurant. Another hospital visit. More tests. That was the tipping point. The five‑year extension he inked in 2023 suddenly felt like a lifetime.
While my love and passion for the game remain, I've decided it's time to step away as head coach. I'm forever grateful to the wonderful players, coaches, staff, and fans who allowed me to serve them as the Spurs head coach and am excited for the opportunity to continue to support the organization, community, and city that are so meaningful to me.
-Gregg Popovich in a statement released Friday.
Pop has always preached having appropriate fear when prepping for opponents. Turns out, he finally had some appropriate fear about his own health. It just felt honest, felt like Pop. No drama, just him being real.
The Resume That Redefined Consistency
Spin through NBA history and you’re not going to find many folks who piled up numbers like Gregg Popovich — and did it with less of a fuss. When he passed Don Nelson and Lenny Wilkens to become the winningest coach in league history back in March 2022, it barely registered with him. He gave the usual Pop shrug, redirected the credit back to his players, and went right back to preparing for the next game like it was just another Tuesday.
With his career totals now at a permanent standstill, he finished with 1,422 wins to 869 losses. That’s over 62 percent in a league where year-to-year chaos is the norm. The Spurs were the exception. From 1998 to 2019, they didn’t miss the playoffs once. For 18 straight seasons, they hit the 50-win mark. And in the midst of that stretch, they hung five banners — ’99, ’03, ’05, ’07, and ’14.
The only time they left the Finals without a trophy was 2013. And it took one of the coldest, most soul-crushing buzzer beaters of all time from Ray Allen in the corner to make that happen. If not for that, Pop might’ve walked away with six rings.
But what those numbers really show isn’t just dominance — it’s how San Antonio became a blueprint for consistency. Other teams changed GMs, cycled through coaches, chased stars. The Spurs stayed the course, leaned into culture, and kept finding ways to win without ever chasing headlines. That’s Pop’s legacy too.
Building Dynasties — and the People Inside Them
David Robinson was the anchor. Tim Duncan the rock you could build a franchise on. Tony Parker and Manu Ginóbili brought the flair — international flash that gave the Spurs some serious edge and made them must-watch TV.
Pop famously joked that his playbook was basically “get the ball to Timmy and move,” and while that might’ve been true on a surface level, the real genius was what he built around it. He let Parker run the show from the elbows, slicing up defenses with his quickness. He even gave Manu the green light to play like a jazz soloist — unpredictable, creative, a little wild, and totally electric.
As the years went by and the league changed, Pop didn’t cling to the old ways. He pivoted. Rebuilt. Reset. He took Kawhi Leonard, a quiet, defense-first kid with big hands and a raw jumper, and helped turn him into a stone-cold Finals MVP.
That’s the thing about Popovich — he never needed carbon copies of past teams. He found what made each group tick and built something new every time.
The Numbers Behind the Aura
Pop never made a big deal about analytics. But behind his deadpan answers was a guy who understood the numbers better than most. He just didn’t need to talk about it.
Instead, he let the results do the talking. While other teams were figuring out what worked in the modern NBA, Pop and the Spurs had already been doing it for years — spacing the floor, valuing the corner three, moving the ball until the defense cracked.
From 1996 to 2024 the Spurs were near or at the top in just about every advanced stat that matters:
Category | NBA Rank (1996–2024) |
Win Percentage | #1 |
Defensive Rating | #1 |
Net Rating | #1 |
Effective FG% (eFG%) | #2 |
Turnover % (TO%) | #4 |
True Shooting % (TS%) | #5 |
Offensive Rating | #6 |
Assist % | #8 |
That’s not a fluke — that’s nearly three decades of smart basketball. The 2014 title team was the poster child for it. They whipped the ball around like they were playing hot potato, racked up assists on more than 60 percent of their buckets, and shot the lights out with the best true-shooting percentage in the league. It was beautiful basketball, built on trust, timing, and habits Pop drilled into them every day.
Coaching Tree: Branches Everywhere You Look
Mike Budenholzer, Taylor Jenkins, Quin Snyder, Ime Udoka, Will Hardy — all guys who spent serious time under Pop, soaking in the Spurs way. They didn’t just run drills or fetch coffee; they learned how to build a team from the ground up, how to teach, how to lead, and maybe most importantly, how to shut up and listen when the moment called for it.
Doc Rivers didn’t coach under Pop, but he’s made it clear over the years that he picked up more than a few things watching him work — especially when it came to holding stars accountable without blowing up the locker room. It’s a delicate dance, and Pop made it look easy.
And even Erik Spoelstra, who never worked for the guy a day in his life, basically rebuilt the Heat’s offense in the image of those classic Spurs teams. The ball never stuck. Everyone touched it. Bodies moved. Defenses wore down. That’s a Popovich signature.
Beyond that, Pop’s willingness to empower assistants is legendary. Whether it was a Summer League game or a regular season game in March, he wouldn't hesitate to say 'Here’s the clipboard, rookie coach.' He trusted his staff the way he trusted Manu to throw a behind‑the‑back pass in crunch time — occasionally messy, but ultimately liberating.
The Human Stuff: Wine, Wit, and Worldview
Stats and trophies are cool, sure — but they barely scratch the surface of why players ride for Pop years after they've left the Spurs. It’s the personal stuff that sticks. He learned their kids’ names. He remembered their parents’ health situations. He made time for conversations that had nothing to do with basketball. Pop hosted team dinners where you weren’t even allowed to talk hoops until after dessert. That was just how he rolled.
And of course, there was always good wine, which turned into more than just a hobby over the years. It became part of the Pop experience.
But it wasn’t just food and drinks. Pop used those moments to talk about life. He’d sprinkle in stories from his Air Force days, crack jokes about old political speeches, or drop historical references that made you think he missed his calling as a professor.
Some fans didn’t like how vocal he was about his political views. Pop didn’t care. He spoke his mind, every time. And the people around him — the players, the coaches, even the ownership — backed him because they knew it wasn’t just talk. That was Pop’s culture. Speak up. Care about people. Win games, but don’t lose yourself in the process.
Farewell, But Not Goodbye: Voices Around the League
Pop’s not one for long goodbyes. He’s the type to wave off a celebration and duck out the back before the cake is cut. But when someone with his kind of impact steps away from the bench, people speak up — whether he likes it or not.
NBA Commissioner Adam Silver put it plainly:
Gregg Popovich's sustained success as head coach of the San Antonio Spurs is incomparable," NBA commissioner Adam Silver said. "In addition to his many accolades, including five NBA championships, the most wins in league history and an Olympic gold medal, Coach Pop has developed generations of players and coaches and been a driving force behind the global growth of basketball. There are few people in the basketball community as beloved and revered as Coach Pop. We thank him for his extraordinary leadership and commitment to our sport and wish him well as he embarks on his new role with the Spurs organization.
Pop wasn’t just a coach — he helped shape the NBA’s values, its voice, and its vision beyond the court. That’s no small thing.
Back in San Antonio, Victor Wembanyama shared what it meant to play under Pop so early in his career:
29 years. Coach, thank you for your wisdom, for your leadership, for the culture you created… But most importantly for being a great and inspiring person. It was an honor to be a part of those 29 years. Wishing you the best on your new chapter.
For a young star navigating pressure and expectation, having Pop in your corner makes all the difference.
The tributes didn’t just come from the basketball world, either. Even Lil Wayne, known more for mixtapes than midrange jumpers, chimed in:
Congrats on the career Coach Pop!! Flowers!! I’ve observed your approach to coaching and to the game and I applied the same approach to life at times and came out a winner every time. Thx Coach! I just might have to Popavich! Shut yo mouth. I’m just talmbout Pop!
Whether you were a player, a fan, or just someone who respected the way he carried himself, Pop left a mark. And even from his new seat upstairs, that presence isn’t going anywhere.
He taught a small‑market franchise to dream big and a global audience to fall in love with selfless basketball. Not bad for a JuCo kid from Indiana.
What Pop Leaves Behind
San Antonio might not recreate the Duncan‑Manu‑Parker magic exactly, but the DNA is still there. Play unselfish. Value the little things. Be coachable. And don’t forget to laugh—this is still a game. If Mitch Johnson keeps even half of that spirit alive, the Spurs will be in good hands.
So here’s to Pop. The coach who turned Air Force discipline into something beautiful on a basketball court. Who made South Texas feel like the hoops capital of the world. Who knew when it was time to step aside—on his terms.
He may have to walk a different path to his office, but the wit, the scowl, the standards? They’re not going anywhere.
Gregg Popovich, President of Basketball Operations, San Antonio Spurs. That has a ring to it — just like the five he helped bring to the franchise.