JOEL EMBIID KNEW how he looked in the oversize, full-body, white, hazmat-style jumpsuit. Of course he knew how it looked for a 7-foot-2 man to wear something like that, and a mask and gloves, onto the airplane from Philadelphia to Orlando, Florida, when the NBA restarted its season in July.
Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. But that was kind of the point. He had made no secret of his misgivings about restarting the NBA season amid the COVID-19 pandemic. He'd talked about it on videoconference calls with reporters and in private conversations with Brooklyn Nets guard Kyrie Irving. He'd voted against it when the National Basketball Players Association held its call with the Sixers.
"Nobody knows the complications in your body in the future, if you get it," Embiid explained. "Nobody can tell you that."
But when the players ultimately elected to play, in a vote of team representatives, Embiid had a choice to make: Sit out or show up to play.
"If I didn't think we had a chance to win, I wouldn't have gone," Embiid said.
The giant personal protective equipment suit was his form of protest. Of calling attention to himself and the misgivings he and other players still felt.
But there was something else he couldn't say to anyone but his closest friends and advisers back then. Something he hadn't even told the Sixers, yet:
His girlfriend, Anne de Paula, was eight months pregnant with their first child.
"We tried to keep it a secret," Embiid said. "Because people have bad intentions and bad energy. ... So it was very hard for me to go. I just wanted to be there with her and for him. I only went [to Orlando] because I really thought we had a chance to win."
There are people who will read that quote, or see the rather hilarious clip of Embiid walking around in the personal protective equipment, and question his commitment. Embiid knows that. Or rather, he has learned that while riding the ups and downs of the fame cycle these past few years.
But fatherhood has a way of clarifying one's priorities. And as soon as he learned he was about to become a father, Embiid started feeling a new sense of purpose.
"Everything that you always thought about life changes," Embiid said.
He wanted his son, Arthur, to be proud of him one day. Anything that helped him do that is what mattered now.
In 2017, at the height of his popularity, when the NBA world and especially the city of Philadelphia were in the honeymoon stage with the effervescent leader of the Sixers, Embiid mentioned he expected the affection and attention would be short-lived.
"People always want something new," he said then.
It was an astute observation about the modern media cycle, but also of human nature. At the time, Embiid and the Sixers seemed like the NBA's next big thing. He was funny and fresh. His skill set was dazzling. His potential seemed unlimited. And the charming story of the team that took tanking to its ideological extreme seemed to be working as Embiid and teammate Ben Simmons blossomed into superstars.
But that was three years and three playoff disappointments ago. Contemporaries such as Anthony Davis and Giannis Antetokounmpo have won the championships and MVP awards for which Embiid seemed destined. Last season, Embiid didn't even make the All-NBA team, despite statistics that compared favorably to his previous campaigns. This season, Philadelphia wasn't even picked to play a Christmas Day game.
"It comes down to winning," Embiid said. "If you don't win, you don't get respect. The league doesn't respect us as much anymore because we didn't live up to the hype we were on the way to three years ago."
He is not protesting this. He is processing it.
Sometimes things are that simple. The challenge for a curious soul like Embiid is to keep it that way. To trust in the only voice that never wavered: his own.
WHEN EMBIID WAS a child in Cameroon, his father was everything he wanted to be one day. Great at sports. An accomplished military commander. A loving husband and father who provided a good life for his family. He appreciated that at the time, of course. But when he became a father himself this fall, it took on a new meaning.
"I've always wanted to get to this point when I would find the one to want to have a family with," Embiid said. "Now that I have, I want my kid to see his dad just being at the top of his game.
"I want to have him come to games and be like, 'Wow, Dad is so good,' so he wants to be better than me."
That's how Embiid always saw his father, Thomas, growing up in Cameroon.
"He was in the army, but he also played sports," Embiid explained. "And he was one of the best at his sport, which was handball. I always went and I watched him play. Seeing that, and how people treated my dad, made me want to be better than him. So I want my kids to come see me and set the bar really high."
What Embiid is describing is something rather universal: The desire to be the best version of yourself to set a good example for your children.
Yes, he wants that for himself too. He wants to make good on his enormous potential and what he has promised to Philadelphia fans who stood by him and the team along their long journey through "The Process."
But, said Embiid's longtime trainer and friend, Drew Hanlen, now he wants that for his son too.
"Arthur has redefined a purpose for Joel that's bigger than himself." Trainer and friend Drew Hanlen on Joel Embiid's son
"Arthur has redefined a purpose for Joel that's bigger than himself," Hanlen said. "We've been talking a lot about legacy lately.
"Joel's checked off a lot of the individual accolade boxes: All-Star, All-NBA, et cetera. But to be known as one of the greats, you have to be able to help your team win championships. And he hasn't done that yet."
In the past three years, there have been loads of what Hanlen calls "justifiable excuses." Three seasons ago, the Sixers made the playoffs and earned some respect for beating the Miami Heat in the first round, before bowing out against a superior Boston Celtics team. Two seasons ago, they were well on their way to beating the eventual-champion Toronto Raptors in the second round of the playoffs. But Embiid got sick, never regained his strength and was last seen weeping as he walked off the court following Kawhi Leonard's bounce-of-God 3-pointer from the corner in Game 7. Last season, Simmons suffered a knee injury during the seeding games in Orlando, and the Sixers didn't stand much of a chance against Boston in their first-round playoff series.
"But no one really cares about the justifiable excuses," Hanlen said. "All that matters is, 'Did you get the job done, yes or no?'
"The honeymoon stage of The Process is over, and now it's all about getting results. We can't be on our way anymore. We have to arrive."
Not just for Embiid anymore. For Arthur, whom Embiid named after his younger brother who was killed six years ago at age 13 when a runaway truck crashed into his schoolyard.
SURE, IT WAS a silly protective suit Embiid wore on the flight to Orlando. But he was also showing up -- despite all his misgivings -- because he felt the Sixers had the talent and opportunity to win a championship. And he'd shown up in the best shape of his career.
Hanlen flew out from Los Angeles to Philadelphia to train Embiid for that playoff run, forming their own little protective bubble, and they went about as hard as they had ever gone before.
"I think we went 35 out of 37 days before he went to Orlando," Hanlen said. That was in addition to the on-court work Embiid was doing with his longtime skills coach, Sixers assistant Chris Babcock, and the extra conditioning he did playing tennis with his friend Jonathan Sacks.
"I've never seen someone go from zero to 60 like Jo can," Sixers general manager Elton Brand said. "Once he's focused and locked in, he becomes that guy. And coming into the bubble, he was in amazing shape."
There were no mentions of this transformation on social media, however. No videos or photos to show off how much work Embiid had put in to get ready for the season restart or to counter the narrative that he needed to be in better shape.
"I don't post my workouts," Embiid said. "I don't need to show off to people, 'Look at me, I'm working out. Look at this picture, this is me working out every single day.'"
"I barely use social media these days." Joel Embiid
Actually, Embiid's social media has been rather tame this year, outside of the occasional tweet about soccer or the launch of his new signature shoe from Under Armour, the Embiid One "Omen," which is an homage to his journey from Cameroon to the NBA.
"I barely use social media these days," he said.
He used to be on Twitter all the time, trash-talking opponents, asking Rihanna out on dates, goofing around with fans or cheekily fawning over former teammate Jimmy Butler's success in Miami. "Tro-elle Embiid," he called himself. And he was the best kind of troll -- a playful one.
But trolling is only endearing when you back it up IRL (in real life), and Embiid had enough self-awareness to realize he and the Sixers hadn't yet.
During Butler's run to the NBA Finals last season, there was no pretense or agenda behind his tweets. Tro-elle was just excited for his friend's success.
"Jimmy and I are still very close," Embiid said. "I've learned a lot from him. The way he carried himself and had everything set up around him. He had his own routine, his own weight room guy, massage therapists, a chef, a nutritionist. I was around him and just watching it, and kind of using it as an example."
As such, Embiid hired renowned nutritionist Louise Burke to help him transform his body so he would have more energy at the end of games and could weather the rigors of the NBA season.
Embiid said he and Butler still watch each other's games all the time and share notes and observations.
"He watches all of our games." Embiid said. "If you asked him, he would tell you he doesn't watch. But there's only a couple guys that he likes to watch, but he will watch our games just to make sure that he follows me and tells me what I need to do. And I do the same for him."
Butler's advice, Embiid said, is very consistent.
"He was always telling me to be more aggressive," Embiid said. "At times, when everything wasn't going right and I wasn't getting the ball, he would call me and be like, 'You are the best player. You need to be aggressive. You guys are not going to win if you are not aggressive.'
"'You need to want the ball, you need to command it, and they need to give it to you. That's just the mentality that you got to have. You've got to lead those guys.'"
A FEW YEARS ago, Embiid was working out with Hanlen and another client, Utah Jazz guard Jordan Clarkson, when he heard a story about former Los Angeles Lakers great Kobe Bryant that stopped him in his tracks.
Embiid idolized Bryant growing up. He started playing basketball after watching the late Lakers star dominate in the 2009 NBA Finals. He loved the way Bryant played, the ferocity and fearlessness he showed, the swagger and confidence he exuded. Any time Embiid met someone who either played with Bryant or knew him well, he peppered them with questions about what Bryant was really like.
Clarkson played two seasons with Bryant in L.A. before being traded to the Cleveland Cavaliers in 2018, and Clarkson revealed something Embiid will never forget.
"You know about the sound he used to make, right?" Embiid asked.
The sound?
"You don't know about the sound?" Embiid repeated, clearly pleased that he had unearthed a detail about Bryant that someone who covered Bryant closely had never heard before.
"Every time he wanted the ball, he didn't have to call for it. He just hissed, like the Mamba. The snake."
Clarkson told Embiid the hiss stopped him in his tracks the first time he heard Bryant do it, but he damn sure passed him the ball and got out of the way afterward. Embiid thought that was the Kobe-est thing he had ever heard, and he has since confirmed it with a handful of Bryant's former teammates.
But Embiid hasn't started hissing for the ball himself, however. He wants to heed Butler's advice to be more aggressive and command the ball from his teammates. He wants to play with Bryant's swagger. But he has to do it in his own way too.
"If I'm not getting the ball, I could easily, because of my role within the team and the offense, I could get the ball and not pass the ball," Embiid said. "But that's when I actually decide to be more passive and just get everybody involved.
"If there's a couple guys on the team that are complaining about not having the ball, my first instinct is to be like, 'OK, I'm going to pass him the ball and make him happy because I know that I'm going to need him. If he's happy, that means he's going to go on the defensive end, he's going to play hard, he's going to get stops. Then whenever I pass the ball, he's going to have enough confidence to make the shot."
The instinct is fine, Embiid thinks. But there is a fine line between getting everyone involved and being passive.
"Sometimes, I back off too much," he said. "I have to change that and be aggressive, command it and lead everybody."
That's the line his new head coach, Doc Rivers, is trying to help him walk.
"Joel comes into the office probably every other day just to sit and talk," Rivers said. "Ben does the same thing. They definitely want to be coached. They want to be led, and they want to know what they need to do to lead."
"That's what this is now: cooperation and figuring out together and then going after it, without coming up with reasons why you didn't do it," he added.
"There's either results or there's reasons."
Rivers has been blunt with both of his young superstars about the urgency they should feel to win this season. The Process is over. They have both been in the league long enough to know what it takes to get to the next level.
Embiid loves searching for inspiration and information from those whose opinion he respects. Besides Butler, Embiid said he talks often with Irving, former Celtics center Kevin McHale, former Philadelphia GM Sam Hinkie and, until he became the Nets' head coach, Steve Nash.
"I like people who think differently than anyone else," Embiid said.
Rivers appreciates Embiid's curiosity and embrace of different perspectives and ideas. Embiid is a seeker. That's his essential nature.
"'But,'" Rivers told Embiid. "'Don't get lost looking for something when the answers are right in front of you.'
"A lot of players keep looking at their team and think, 'What else do we need?' But the answer is you."
"I always look at [LeBron James'] teams," Rivers continued. "Some of the teams LeBron made it to the Finals with ... are you kidding me? But LeBron didn't worry about that. He looks at his team and says, 'We're going to win.'
"And I think that's something that if you want to do it, that's what you have to do."
What does Rivers need from Embiid?
"Dominance," Rivers said. "When you look at his skill and his body, he can dominate every night. He has to be great in the post, like he always has been. And then he has to make room for everybody else to be great, as well."
WHAT RIVERS IS describing is the challenge everyone who has ever tried to help or coach Embiid has wrestled with. His skill set is undeniable. His intelligence is off the charts. Hanlen will send Embiid clips of other post players in the league -- Karl-Anthony Towns, Nikola Jokic, DeMarcus Cousins or Davis -- and Embiid will learn their moves in a day. His curiosity is endless.
On the one hand, you want to encourage all that. Keep seeking information and inspiration. That's great. That's how you keep your edge and keep improving.
But on the other hand, everything Embiid needs to get to the next level is already within him. He just needs to trust in that, in himself. Not the old narrative about The Process.
Longtime friends -- including Hanlen, Sacks, marketing agent Jessica Holtz and sports scientist David Martin, who was assigned to work with Embiid after his second foot surgery in 2015 -- said he seems more centered now that he has found love and started a family. But also because he has been through so many ups and downs in his still-young NBA career.
"I remember after he got his surgery, I spent a lot of time in the hospital with him," Martin said. "There were people that checked in with him on the phone, but he was pretty much on his own, and I could see it was a real isolating place. He was a complete transplant from Africa, and he was on a new team."
Embiid's support network in America back then was small. Martin, Hinkie, then-coach Brett Brown, his agent Michael Tellem, a few friends and manager Jenny Sacks.
Embiid takes his time sizing people up. Trust is earned slowly but lost quickly. So is respect.
"I feel a little bit like the little mouse that pulled the thorn out of the lion's foot, and then the lion looks after you to thank you," Martin said.
The lion has a whole family to look after now, though.
"Once you get to the league, I think you go through a phase where you don't know who you are," Embiid said. "You have to find yourself, and I think that I've found myself, especially after meeting the one and starting a family."
As for The Process?
The old belief that Embiid and the Sixers were destined for greatness and championships so long as they stayed the course. There are echoes of it, still. But it's mostly just a memory of a different time now.
During a videoconference call with the nutritionist Burke recently, Embiid joked about how much he sweats during workouts.
"His weight changes because of how much he sweats," Burke said. "So I was telling him that, "I don't want you to be on the scales, because that's not important to me. It's about getting the fueling right. You've got to trust ...'
"And as I was trying to find the right word, he just says, in that [French] accent of his, 'The Process. I am The Process.'"