Bernard King’s Dark Struggle: What Really Led to His Suspension?

Born and raised in Fort Greene during the 1960s and 70s, King endured an abusive relationship with his mother in a cramped apartment.

To cope with this trauma, he developed what he called a “game face”—a psychological shield that allowed him to escape pain and channel his energy into basketball.

This coping mechanism became integral to his identity, fueling both his on-court ferocity and off-court battles.

When King attended the University of Tennessee, new challenges emerged.

As a shy young man from Brooklyn thrust into the racially charged Deep South, he faced discrimination and personal insecurities.

It was during this time that he first turned to alcohol as a social outlet and escape, a habit that would grow more destructive as he entered the NBA.

Despite early success—including averaging over 22 points per game and becoming the league’s scoring champion in 1984-85—King’s rookie year was marked by profound unhappiness.

Even after explosive scoring nights, he returned to an empty apartment, isolated and struggling.

His alcoholism deepened, leading to dangerous incidents such as driving under the influence with no memory of the trip and being found slumped over his car in the middle of a Brooklyn intersection at 5 a.m.

The addiction even spilled into games.

During a playoff match, a heckler’s taunt about drinking nearly provoked King into a physical altercation.

His off-court issues quickly affected his career trajectory.

The New Jersey Nets, despite his talent, traded him to the Utah Jazz, feeling his problems were too much to handle.

King’s troubles continued in Utah.

Though he began rehabilitation there, the Jazz’s patience wore thin.

After only 19 games, they traded him to the Golden State Warriors while he sought substance abuse treatment.

These moves reflected a life spiraling out of control, with King’s personal demons overtaking his professional promise.

Legal troubles had also shadowed King since college.

In 1977, he faced charges ranging from theft to marijuana possession, resulting in fines and suspended sentences.

But the most serious crisis came in January 1980, when a woman in Salt Lake City accused King of multiple felony counts of forced sexual abuse and sodomy.

The Utah Jazz responded swiftly, suspending King indefinitely without pay.

This suspension was the most significant of his career, arriving at a moment when his personal and professional worlds collided violently.

The legal case concluded with King pleading no contest to reduced misdemeanor charges of attempted forcible sexual abuse.

Polygraph tests indicated he was too intoxicated to remember the incident.

He received a $2,000 fine and suspended sentences.

However, King won a binding arbitration hearing through the NBA Players Association, leading to his reinstatement and restoration of back pay.

The incident forced King to confront his alcoholism seriously.

He later admitted this realization saved his life, acknowledging that his reckless lifestyle could have ended his career—or worse.

King’s commitment to recovery was intense.

He spent nearly a month at St. John’s Hospital in Santa Monica and joined Alcoholics Anonymous.

He embraced adversity, famously stating that he thrived when his back was against the wall.

He knew this was his last chance; relapse would mean the end of his basketball journey.

His transformation was remarkable.

By the time he played for Golden State, King had shed much of his reckless reputation.

He became a community pillar, visiting children’s hospitals and planning talks for teenagers about alcoholism’s dangers.

His comeback culminated in winning the NBA Comeback Player of the Year award in 1981, after averaging an efficient 21.9 points on 58.8% shooting.

Yet King’s battles were far from over.

More than a decade later, in 1993, he faced another suspension—this time with the Washington Bullets.

After being sidelined due to a severe knee injury, King insisted he was ready to play, but the team hesitated to activate him, reportedly for financial reasons.

Frustrated, King was suspended for four days without pay for conduct detrimental to the club.

Reports alleged he pushed coach Wes Unseld during practice and threatened to disrupt team sessions if not activated.

The general manager publicly refused to be “held hostage” by King’s demands.

This episode highlighted how frustration and tension continued to mark King’s later career.

King’s devastating knee injury in 1985 further complicated his life.

While at his peak, leading the league in scoring and playing MVP-level basketball, he tore his ACL, meniscus, and fractured his femur during a game.

This injury forced him to miss nearly two full seasons.

At the time, no NBA player had ever returned to form after such trauma.

King’s rehabilitation was grueling—he woke from nightmares, battled severe muscle atrophy, and faced doubts about ever playing again.

Yet his fierce determination saw him dismantle barriers—literally—at home to prove he would make it back.

Against all odds, King returned late in the 1986-87 season, averaging 22.7 points in six games.

The Knicks released him, doubting his explosiveness, but he signed with Washington and adapted his game, becoming more of a cutting threat.

By 1990-91, six years after his injury, he was named an NBA All-Star for the fourth time, averaging 28.4 points per game—third best in the league behind only Carl Malone and Michael Jordan.

He scored 44 points against Jordan’s Bulls and dropped 52 against Denver, becoming the first player in any major sport to make an All-Star after tearing an ACL.

Yet legal troubles would continue to haunt him even after retirement.

In 1994, King was arrested in New York for allegedly choking a woman while intoxicated, charged with third-degree assault.

A decade later, in 2004, he faced arrest again for assault and harassment related to an altercation with his wife at a Manhattan hotel.

These incidents had lasting consequences.

In the late 1990s, his nomination to the New Jersey Sports and Exposition Authority was withdrawn due to multiple arrests for abuse of women.

In 2004, he was removed as an honoree of the Brooklyn Public Library following the spousal abuse charge.

Bernard King’s story reveals the complex interplay between trauma, resilience, and self-destruction.

His “game face,” forged from childhood abuse, helped him survive on the court but may have masked deep internal pain that fueled destructive behaviors.

His journey toward recovery was nonlinear and fraught with setbacks, with legal issues post-retirement complicating any narrative of full redemption.

King’s legacy is a tapestry of brilliance, fragility, and an unyielding fighting spirit.

While his induction into the Hall of Fame rightly honors his status as one of basketball’s great scorers, King’s story challenges us to rethink how we measure greatness and understand redemption.

It is a raw, honest look at human vulnerability amid overwhelming adversity—a reminder that even the brightest stars can struggle in the shadows.