Nikola Jokić Personally Called Denver's New Reinforcement! The Story America Now Admires Revealed

Pulse Sports Team 05:36 - 18 September 2026

DeMar DeRozan joined Denver this summer, and it was revealed that Nikola Jokić personally ensured his arrival.

DeMar DeRozan sparked an NBA conversation about mental health, and between the lines, it was revealed that Nikola Jokić played a direct role in his arrival in Denver. The full text is provided below.

DeRozan on Mental Health and Joining Denver

It's almost over. Sometimes, when he's alone and taking a break from daily routines, DeMar DeRozan repeats that phrase over and over: It's almost over. It's almost over.

This phrase reminds him to play with a sense of urgency, to savor the upcoming season, as he's aware that he's left more of his NBA career behind him than he has ahead.

“That's not a negative thing,” DeRozan says. “It's a beautiful thing. You can't do this forever, but while you're in it, give it your all, so when it's time to go, you're at peace with everything.”

The six-time All-Star is nearing the end of his career, but simultaneously approaching a new beginning — feeling both like a rookie and a veteran. DeRozan signed a one-year contract with the Denver Nuggets in early September.

This will be his 18th season. Even he finds the number — 18 — shocking, believing he still has much to give. However, he's quietly and thoughtfully developing interests outside of basketball: he's deeply invested in mental health issues and finding ways to transform the topic from mere conversation into action, from podcasts into official measures, to reach more people — especially young men and boys — struggling with mental health challenges and emotional isolation.

DeRozan first brought up the topic of mental health in the NBA in 2018 when he shared his struggles with depression, doing more to destigmatize the issue than many other professional athletes. He inspired Kevin Love, another prominent figure in this movement, to begin his own journey. DeRozan also authored the memoir “Above the Noise: My Story of Chasing Calm.”

He hosts a YouTube series, “Dinners with DeMar,” where he interviews influential people about their mental health experiences. Every day brings a reminder of his purpose.

Recently, a student approached him at practice, expressing how much DeRozan's words helped him feel seen. Another time, a young man told him, “You saved my life.”

DeRozan often recalls a father who approached him, saying, “My son was on the verge of suicide until he heard your story.”

“That means everything in the world to me, because a lot of times I'm just honestly speaking about the things I go through and how I feel,” DeRozan says. “For people to come up to me and acknowledge that means I'm doing the right thing by being vulnerable and putting myself out there in these conversations, because it's helping somebody. Even if it's just one person, it's worth it.”

As he joins a new team and adjusts to a new city, he asks himself: How can he best utilize his remaining time in the NBA and make a significant impact off the court right now? DeRozan appreciates Denver's tranquility and is currently house-hunting in the city. Being in a new environment has prompted reflection.

“It's easy to get complacent with what you're used to, and sometimes you have to step out of your comfort zone to grow even more,” he says.

Nikola Jokić, Aaron Gordon, and Jamal Murray called him before he signed with the team, which meant a lot to DeRozan and influenced his decision to join the Nuggets. These new teammates, like him, understand what it means to be a veteran — and to be aware that the window for success is narrowing.

“When I came into the league, I couldn't imagine playing this long,” says the 37-year-old DeRozan. “And when you get into it all, you don't realize how fast time flies. It's a blessing to be able to play this long.”

Leaving Sacramento in July, after playing for the Kings for only two years, was difficult for him.

“You build relationships with players, staff, people in the organization,” says DeRozan, who averaged 18.4 points, 2.9 rebounds, and 4.1 assists in the 2025-26 season. “It's always tough to leave. I was extremely close with a lot of people.”

It also made him question his own basketball longevity.

Am I close to the end of basketball?

Is this it?

What's truly next for me?

“You definitely have those thoughts,” DeRozan says. “It's just reality. It all comes down to how much longer you want to do it, how much longer you want to push yourself physically, mentally, and emotionally to do something you love.”

This leads him to consider how to channel that energy into something beyond basketball.

“Art, visual things, film, writing,” he says. “To inspire other people to tell their stories.”

Film, in particular, has become dear to his heart as a medium for telling mental health stories in the future.

“To shape those stories from a visual angle, to turn them into something you can watch,” he says. “We read stories, we listen to stories, we pay attention and find inspiration in them. I think that would be incredible.” “We all have our own story.”

In late July, DeRozan sat in a Los Angeles restaurant, filming an episode of “Dinners with DeMar.” His guest was Lonzo Ball, a longtime friend, former Chicago Bulls teammate, and also a Southern California native.

Midway through the interview, DeRozan asked Ball about his mother, Tina, who had previously suffered a stroke. Ball paused. His face tightened, he struggled to speak, and began to cry.

DeRozan sat patiently, his expression unchanged. He didn't try to interrupt the moment or ask if Ball needed a break. He allowed his guest to be vulnerable. Ball felt safe enough to show emotion in front of DeRozan, as a conversationalist can only when they trust their interviewer.

As tears flowed, Ball opened up more about how difficult his mother's health issues had been for him and the entire family. For Ball, it put life into proper perspective. DeRozan, whose mother also has health issues, showed empathy without taking over the conversation.

That moment was a microcosm of the work DeRozan is deeply committed to. While with the Kings, he began to consider how to bring his mental health conversations to a wider audience. Although public discussions and events dedicated to mental health — a regular part of his schedule — move things forward, DeRozan has felt for some time that an additional mechanism is needed to translate these conversations into concrete actions.

The more he heard alarming statistics about young men in America struggling with mental health issues and loneliness, the more intensely he thought about how he could help.

Nationally, men account for nearly 80 percent of suicide victims. Young Black men are committing suicide at a higher rate than their white peers for the first time in history.

“You carry so much weight on your back. We sweep so much under the rug that we don't even realize how much it is until we scratch beneath the surface,” DeRozan says, “and then you realize how much pain, suffering, and suppressed things are there. You never know when it might reach a breaking point.”

“The approach I'm trying to take is to be vulnerable and let people know they're not alone.”

He attempted to meet with California Governor Gavin Newsom and his wife, Jennifer Siebel Newsom, to discuss how he could assist with state initiatives supporting young boys and men. He invited the Newsoms to appear on “Dinners with DeMar” and participate in an event he organized. Due to scheduling conflicts, the meeting didn't happen, but DeRozan hasn't lost sight of the importance of community action. Now, a new arena awaits him in Colorado, where he will strive to make his mark.

“Young men are struggling, and too many still think they need to bear everything alone and keep what they're going through to themselves,” says Brett Rapkin, founder of Podium Pictures and creator of the “Dinners with DeMar” series.

“DeMar has the authenticity and influence to redefine what strength looks like for young men and to create real cultural impact on a large scale through storytelling.”

As his day in Los Angeles winds down, DeRozan takes a break at a nearby table. He crosses his right arm over his body, revealing one of his favorite tattoos that reads: Why would they care about you? He remembers hearing that as a young man, as if he didn't matter. As if what he was going through held no importance.

“I ended up getting that tattooed because I never wanted to forget those words. I never let something like that affect me,” DeRozan says.

The negativity that tried to hold him back while growing up in Compton, California, always motivated him to move forward. It still drives him. It's almost over.

He feels that urgency again. That desire to give his all before he no longer has the opportunity. The years and entering his fourth decade have reminded him how quickly time passes. And how he, too, must address his own mental health struggles.

“I'm far from perfect. I still have tough days,” DeRozan says. “We're still just human. It's okay if you need to cry or let it out. It's okay to take a moment for yourself.”

He doesn't want young boys to feel the way he felt growing up.

Why would they care about you?

So he sends them a new message: