Greenberg: Pour out a bottle of hot sauce in memory of King

Posted June 08, 2026 3:52 pm

By Jon Greenberg

It would be too boring, too trite, too easy to just call Stacey King “larger than life.”

In King’s English, he was too big, too strong, too fast and too good. The news of his passing is too awful to be true.

King, 59, died Sunday. The Bulls announced his death Sunday afternoon on social media. The cause of death wasn’t released by the Bulls.

“Stacey King was a cherished member of the Bulls family and one of the truly unique personalities in our organization’s history,” Bulls chairman Jerry Reinsdorf said in a statement released by the team. “His connection to Chicago, the Bulls and our fans spanned more than three decades — first as a player and later as the unmistakable voice that helped bring Bulls basketball into the homes of generations of fans. We will miss him deeply and remember the joy, energy, humor, candor and passion he brought to our organization, our broadcasts and our fans every day.”

The first-round pick of the Bulls in 1989 played eight seasons in the NBA, winning three titles during the first Michael Jordan three-peat. Following his playing career, King spent the last 19 seasons as the team’s TV analyst. It was on those Bulls broadcasts where he truly made his mark, dishing up laughs, hardcore analysis and a one-of-a-kind perspective on the game.

He was a Derrick Rose evangelist in his early years, and his calls of Rose’s exploits as a high-flying dunker helped turn Rose into a legend. King would often say Rose is “too big, too strong, too fast and too good,” and the same was true of him.

King was a big man, 6 feet 11 with a hearty appetite, but he was also too big of a personality to be constrained by a television broadcast. After a big play, he reached out of the screen and grabbed you by the shirt, asking, “Does anybody know how to post videos to Facebook?!”

He was too strong of a personality, human hot sauce. He evangelized the Bulls when they were good, and he tried to make the best of them when they were bad. But mostly, he brought people into the game. He hammed it up with his partners, Neil Funk and Adam Amin. He took pictures with fans, and he tried to make them leave with a smile, regardless of the score.

He was too quick with a quip, a catchphrase, a joke, a song, a breakdown.

After his playing career, he found his calling on TV. He was too good at this job. In the latest Awful Announcing local broadcasting rankings, which was released last month, voters ranked the King-Amin duo as the third-best in the league.

During the 2010-11 season, when Rose won MVP and the Bulls had the best record in the league, I interviewed King about his role as the budding contender’s narrator.

“Basically, in a nutshell, I kind of say things a fan would say on the couch watching the Bulls game,” he told me. “There’s a lot of energy, a lot of fun and some spontaneity trying to capture the moment.

“All my stuff is instinctive,” he added. “I don’t write it down and say, ‘Let me say that.’ It’s fun, and the fans get a kick out of it, but I take my job seriously as an analyst. That’s what I do before anything.”

At his core, King was a basketball purist, the Bulls’ version of the “Czar of the Telestrator.” He could break down the fine points of the game during a broadcast like the best national analysts in the business. It makes sense.

After his playing career ended in the late 1990s, he became a very good coach in the Continental Basketball Association, and he could have kept going on that path. But TV suited him.

“He was an outstanding analyst,” said broadcaster Jason Benetti, who used to fill in on Bulls broadcasts. “I left something like my third game with him and called a friend just to say to someone, ‘He gets a lot of run from his catchphrases, but he just answered every question I had with something high-level.’”

If King had a better career, he could’ve been Charles Barkley. He was that funny and that smart.

“What I learned from Stacey most was how important it was to try to have fun with what you were doing on the job,” The Athletic’s Nick Friedell told me. “He was a strong technical analyst of the game when he broke down plays or questioned coaching decisions, but what he will be remembered for most during his two decades as an analyst is his ability to have fun no matter how good or bad the product was on the floor. It’s a life lesson I’ll carry with me that initially started with a big assist from the man himself.”

Friedell, who covered the Bulls from 2009 through 2018, has a deep baritone voice. One day on the radio, he and his partner were interviewing King, who admitted he was surprised when he first met Friedell, who is White.

“Nick,” King said. “I thought you were a brother!”

They burst into laughter on the air.

One day, when Benetti was on the call with him, King told him it was his turn to sing the Nationwide Insurance jingle that had become a staple of the broadcast.

“I asked him to do it with me, as I recall,” Benetti texted me. “He said I should do it myself. I do it. He crushes me for my rendition. Does it himself. It’s beautiful. Melodic. He laughs. I took the bait. We both enjoyed it greatly.”

King’s famous highlight calls were bouncing all over the internet after the news broke on Sunday. He would say, “Let me step back and kiss myself!” after big shots. He’d yell, “I didn’t come for a massage, I came for the facial!” after big dunks. He’d scream, “Gimme the hot sauce!” or “Sriracha!” after 3-pointers. He also nicknamed Jimmy Butler “Jimmy G. Buckets” — the G stands for Gets. In recent years, he borrowed Fred Sanford’s “Elizabeth, I’m coming!” after game-winning shots.

He also had a pointed wit, which helped during the dog days of the franchise. He had some fun with a fan who wore a fake Jordan jersey, and he roasted Denzel Valentine for taking an ill-advised 3-pointer. He broke into hysterics when he found out Jim Boylen compared Luke Kornet to Robert Horry. He always found a way to make people laugh.

But no call, catchphrase or joke resonates more with King’s legacy than the time a young Rose dunked on Phoenix’s Goran Dragic.

On Jan. 22, 2010, Rose, entering the prime of his career, caught a pass in the paint in transition and found poor Dragic between him and the basket. A two-handed slam sent King into hysterics.

“What are you doing Dragic?” King said. “Did you not get the memo? Derrick Rose can go upstairs! Woooo!”

As they showed the replay, King said, his voice cracking, “I want to go higher! Oh my goodness.”

Whenever you’re feeling down, rewatch that highlight. It encapsulates King’s legacy in less than a minute.

For those who knew King personally, they’ll remember his wide smile, his unmistakable laugh and his warm personality. For those who knew him through the TV, they’ll remember how he made them feel hopeful and proud about their favorite team.

Stacey King came to the Bulls from Oklahoma as the sixth pick in the 1989 draft. He leaves us 37 years later with a legacy that will be impossible to replace.

If you loved listening to King these last two decades, pour out a bottle of hot sauce for him, and let Elizabeth know that he’s coming home.