NBA After Dark: What happened off the court at All-Star Weekend in San Francisco

Unlike the Super Bowl, NBA All-Star Weekend is never really about the game itself. Rather, it’s an excuse for the league’s vast network of players, agents, and executives to gather and turn a host city into a basketball theme park (or club) for a spell.

This weekend’s festivities were the first in the Bay Area in 25 years. In 2000, Chase Center didn’t exist and Mission Bay was mainly known for underground raves. 

A quarter of a century later, All-Star Weekend’s arrival in San Francisco served as a litmus test for a city sorely in need of some good vibes. Could a place with striking issues welcome global stars and thousands of tourists? Plus, where does one go for late-night fun when businesses here tend to close earlier than most?

My editor and I (plus a few friends we made along the way) attempted to answer these questions by following up full days covering league-sanctioned activities with a search for any NBA-related fun. This is a running diary of how well or poorly those efforts went. 

6:00 p.m. — In a cruel twist of fate, it has been raining. Hard. By the time we arrive at Terra Gallery, where Oakland’s own Gary Payton is speaking on a panel about mental health, we are soaked. As the Bay Area legend is giving a thoughtful and considered answer about the risks of mixing sports and politics, I scurry off to the one nearby bathroom to physically wring out my clothes. FML. 

7:00 p.m. — I sneak upstairs to attend a party thrown by Complex (the magazine) and 1800 Tequila. While everyone else is dressed in expensive statement jackets and sneakers, I feel distinctly uncool in my soggy pants. 

According to the hosts, it’s likely that a third of those in the room are from New York and a third from Los Angeles. The other third, apparently, doesn’t matter too much. I don’t recognize the celebrities who are supposedly at the party but am told that they are mainly influencers. In the corner of the floor, guests are shooting on a makeshift basketball court to win a sneaker-shaped wine decanter. 

12:10 a.m. — Payton, a NBA Hall of Famer, is throwing a party at Vanity SF, a North Beach strip club. There is a line extending out onto the street despite the rain, and there is a pricy cover to get dry. Inside, the venue feels like a giant reunion for those who knew or grew up supporting The Glove. It’s starting to feel like we’re taking up space.

Both floors in the venue are abuzz with activity, but a few dancers confide there isn’t as much money raining (sorry) as they would’ve expected. There is a subtle restlessness amongst the performers as the club doubled up on staff to prepare for the weekend.

It’s never clear if Payton is in the room because he never takes the stage, but on each of the television screens, a documentary about his career is playing on a loop. Sorry ladies, you’re great and all, but John Stockton is about to give another testimonial.

Elsewhere, Excel Sports Management — the agency that represents All-Stars Tyler Herro, Cade Cunningham, and viral Tiktok sensation Jared McCain — was hosting a private party at Executive Order meant to put its players in contact with tech executives (or is it the other way around?).

Meanwhile, P-Lo, the Bay Area-based rapper, was throwing a party at Temple Night Club, which had supposedly remained open. 

8:00 a.m. — Bleary-eyed and loopy, I mill around the lobby of the Hilton Union Square taking in the scenes from the NBA’s most exclusive event: The All-Star Tech Summit. Outside, a row of private drivers and their black SUVs are waiting for their high-profile clients to emerge, super agents Rich Kleiman and Rich Paul among them. Mike Dunleavy Jr. walks by me, holding a sad box lunch, never looking up from his phone.

12:00 p.m. — I spent weeks angling for an invite to an All-Star party thrown by Darryl Reed, the former “crack king” of Oakland who became a promoter after he was granted clemency by President Barack Obama. Tonight, he’s supposedly throwing a party with Kevin Garnett. Turns out the whole “let a journalist write about your private party” pitch wasn’t appealing to them. 

Panicking about the lack of material for an after-hours diary with no parties, I send a couple of prayer texts. The best a good samaritan could do was share the email of Kenny Smith, one of four hosts of TNT’s “Inside the NBA.” I shoot his people a note to put me and a plus-one on a list for his annual All-Star party. I get a cryptic response, but at least it wasn’t a no?

3:00 p.m. — En route to the celebrity game at the former Oracle Arena, I stop by an old ballroom in downtown Oakland for a community gala where I’m told All-Star Jaylen Brown is making an appearance. Heavy hitters from the city’s Black business community are in attendance, but there are no signs of any NBA players. I’m starting to catch on to the fact that locals might be juicing up their own events by trying to glom onto a bit of All-Star glamor. I’ll have to give this a try next time!

(Update: According to event photos, I had just missed Brown, who did in fact attend the gala.)

For what it’s worth, Steph Curry did end up helping an Oakland high school that day. 

9:30 p.m. —The free food at the Pier 48 media reception is a godsend, but the venue itself is reminiscent of an empty aircraft hangar with blaring hip-hop, giving the place high-school cafeteria vibes. The cool members of the media apparently were invited to the parties, and we weren’t.

Elsewhere, my contact at a Union Square steakhouse texts to say that a 25-person contingent from the Los Angeles Clippers just called her for a reservation despite the restaurant being booked for Valentine’s Day. “We’re happy to have them, but does it always have to be so last-minute? They give us no notice and still expect the world!” 

11:30 p.m. — Still without a firm answer on our RSVP, we make our way to the supposed venue of Kenny Smith and Empire’s party on the Embarcadero. The address we were provided lands us at an empty office park where we encounter other confused partygoers circling and bickering.

On a whim, my editor deduces that the address is more a description of a location than a specific destination. How do we know he’s right? Outside the Exploratorium on Pier 15, we bump into Mayor Daniel Lurie in deep conversation with a senior NBA reporter. Five minutes later, Charles Barkley, wearing a buttoned-up plaid shirt and black pants, walks by and shoots us a smirk.  

12:00 a.m. — A crowd is starting to swell outside the venue and is getting restless. The security guard managing the front door, bless his heart, does not seem to recognize any celebrity who walks to the front of the line, insisting to be let in. Among the people who have to wait alongside us are former Warriors point guard Tim Hardaway Sr. and 49ers linebacker Fred Warner. 

Standing in front of the line, we hear every excuse under the sun. Among our favorites are:

The guard never budges but lets us, plus two friends we made in line, in. For once, being nice and orderly actually pays off? 

1:00 a.m. — Upon entering the party, we are greeted by a gallery of Kenny’s photos and a shrine to his proposed $350 million real estate development in New York he intends to call the “Jet Center.” Deeper into the venue, a full-blown Too Short concert is playing out with the likes of Baron Davis and JaVale McGee milling around. And of course, Assemblymember Matt Haney is here, smiling from ear to ear.

11:10 p.m. — We decide to head to Union Square after being politely turned away at the new Splash bar in Thrive City, where Steph and Ayesha Curry are throwing a party. We also hear that Dwyane Wade and Taylor Rooks are hosting a Spades tournament downtown and that the former is hawking his new wine. Meanwhile, Anthony Edwards may or may not be at The Battery. 

Instead, we head to 55 Stockton St., a former Crate & Barrel store temporarily converted into a club by local promoter Justin Roja. The first floor is turned into a clothing store, while the second hosts a small barbershop and unlit walls of Celsius energy drinks. On the third is the dance floor and bar, which gives us the feel of a house party on its last legs. But many locals wearing vintage Warriors jerseys seem to be having a good time.

12:30 a.m. — On our walk back to our office, we notice that the International Art Museum of America has also been converted into a club. Rather than brave another line, we end our night at the Rumpus Room, a watering hole in Mid-Market, to see if the infamous Sixth and Market street corridor has gotten any better.  

Lurie had appeared on “Good Morning America” earlier in the weekend and proclaimed that he “wouldn’t let people sleep on the streets.” But there are some tucked away in smaller groups; they’re just slightly out of view. 

11:00 p.m. — Most members of the media are working late like us, writing about what the legacy of the San Francisco All-Star Game will be. I hear Pharrell Williams is hosting an exclusive party down at the Hibernia and that CeeLo Green is doing a private concert at The Battery. I’m starting to see double at this point, so it’s back to the nerds’ table for me. Best weekend ever.