It was the shot heard 'round the world, but it didn't come from a basketball. It came from a laptop screen. On July 4, 2016, while most of America was prepping grills and icing down coolers, Kevin Durant hit "publish" on a Players' Tribune post titled "My Next Chapter."
The sports world broke. Honestly, it hasn't really been fixed since.
When we talk about My Next Chapter KD, we aren't just talking about a jersey swap or a business decision. We are talking about the moment the modern NBA era of "player empowerment" collided head-on with the old-school "loyalty" gatekeepers. It was messy. It was calculated. And depending on who you ask in a dive bar in Oklahoma City or a tech hub in San Francisco, it was either the ultimate "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em" move or a masterclass in career autonomy.
The Context Everyone Forgets About 2016
Most people remember the 73-9 Warriors. They remember the blown 3-1 lead KD and the Thunder had against those very same Warriors just weeks prior. But to understand why My Next Chapter KD became such a permanent meme, you have to look at the landscape of the league that summer.
The salary cap had just spiked. Hard.
Because of a massive new TV deal, the cap jumped from $70 million to $94 million in a single off-season. This "cap spike" was a freak occurrence. It created a vacuum where a team that had just set the record for the most wins in NBA history suddenly had enough room to sign one of the greatest scorers to ever live. Usually, the math doesn't allow that. In 2016, the math was broken.
Durant wasn't just leaving a small market. He was leaving Russell Westbrook. He was leaving a team that was right there.
People forget how close the Thunder were. They weren't a rebuilding squad. They were a heavyweight contender that had the Warriors on the ropes. When KD wrote those words—"The primary mandate I had for myself in making this decision was to have it based on the potential for my growth as a player"—it felt like a betrayal to the competitive spirit of the 90s and 2000s. It felt like "joining the enemy."
Why the Meme Became Immortal
The visual of the Players' Tribune graphic—KD's silhouette against a white background—became the internet’s favorite way to mock any athlete, or even any regular person, who took the easy way out.
Signed a new job for more money? My Next Chapter.
Switched your favorite coffee shop? My Next Chapter.
But beneath the jokes, there’s a real tension. KD’s move forced us to ask: Does a player owe a city anything? Durant had spent nine years in the organization (starting in Seattle as a SuperSonic). He’d done the community work. He’d won the MVP. He’d reached the Finals once.
The backlash was visceral because it felt like the end of parity. If a 73-win team could just add an MVP, why even play the season?
What’s wild is that KD actually got what he wanted. He won. Twice. He was the Finals MVP twice. He played some of the most efficient, terrifying basketball we’ve ever seen. The "growth" he mentioned in the My Next Chapter KD post was real; he became a defensive menace and a more refined playmaker under Steve Kerr.
Yet, the rings didn't buy the universal respect he maybe thought they would. Fans are fickle like that.
The Hamptons Five and the Room Where it Happened
The recruitment was the stuff of legend. The "Hamptons Five."
Steph Curry, Klay Thompson, Draymond Green, and Andre Iguodala all showed up at a rented mansion in the Hamptons to pitch Durant. Draymond had been calling him from the parking lot after losing Game 7 of the Finals. Think about that. The best team ever (statistically) was begging for help.
KD saw a chance to play a brand of "beautiful basketball" that the iso-heavy Thunder just didn't run. In OKC, it was often "your turn, my turn" with him and Westbrook. In Golden State, the ball hopped. It was kinetic. It was fun.
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But the move also highlighted a shift in how superstars viewed their careers. Before My Next Chapter KD, the greats usually tried to beat the powerhouse. After it, the blueprint shifted toward "superteams" being the baseline, not the exception. LeBron did it in 2010 with "The Decision," but Durant’s felt different because he joined the team that had just eliminated him. It was a move that prioritized personal happiness and basketball aesthetics over the "grind it out" narrative that fans fetishize.
The Long-Term Fallout of the Decision
We are still living in the ripple effects of that July 4th post.
- The Trade Request Era: KD's move to GSW was via free agency. He did it "the right way" in terms of fulfilling his contract. But the criticism he took eventually led to players realizing that if they were going to be hated anyway, they might as well force their way out whenever they wanted.
- The Aesthetic vs. The Result: Basketball nerds loved the 2017 Warriors. They were perfect. But the general public checked out. Ratings for those Finals were fine, but the "drama" was gone. We knew who was winning.
- The "Mercenary" Label: Even after leaving for Brooklyn and later Phoenix, the My Next Chapter KD stigma followed him. It's the idea that he’s a "bus rider" rather than a "bus driver"—a phrase Charles Barkley popularized that clearly gets under Durant's skin.
It’s kind of tragic. Durant is a basketball purist. He just wants to hoop. He’s the guy you’ll find in a random gym in the summer playing 5-on-5 until the lights go out. But his legacy is inextricably tied to a PR-friendly blog post that the world took as a declaration of war on NBA parity.
How to View the Move Today
Looking back with almost a decade of hindsight, the anger has cooled, but the fascination remains.
Durant didn't break the NBA; he just leveraged the rules that were in place. If you're a CEO and a rival company offers you a better culture, more resources, and a guaranteed path to success, you take it. We only get mad when athletes do it because we treat sports like a war and teams like religions.
KD’s "Next Chapter" was about agency. It was about a man who realized he didn't want to spend his 30s banging his head against the wall in a system that didn't maximize his gifts. He chose joy over the narrative. Whether you respect that or hate it says more about you than it does about him.
Actionable Insights for Fans and Analysts
- Analyze the "Cap Spike" context: When debating the move, always reference the 2016 salary cap jump. Without that specific $24 million leap, the move is financially impossible. It was a "black swan" event in sports business.
- Differentiate between Free Agency and Trades: Remember that Durant left as a free agent. He didn't demand a trade with years left on his deal. This is a crucial distinction in the "player empowerment" debate.
- Observe the "Post-Warriors" KD: To truly understand his motivation, look at his stint in Brooklyn. He tried to build his own thing. It failed, but it proves he wasn't just looking for an easy ride—he was looking for a specific type of basketball environment.
- Study the "Superteam" lifecycle: Notice how the Durant-era Warriors eventually crumbled due to the same thing that built them: ego and the relentless pressure of the spotlight. Nothing in the NBA is permanent, even when it looks invincible.