LOS ANGELES (The Thursday Times) — When Jerry Buss bought the Los Angeles Lakers in 1979, he was acquiring more than just a basketball team. He was buying a dream — and not just his own. What he created over the next three decades would become the most glamorous franchise in American sports. But this June, 46 years after that $67.5 million handshake with Jack Kent Cooke, the dream changed hands.
In a stunning yet graceful transition, the Buss family has agreed to sell the majority ownership of the Lakers to billionaire investor Mark Walter, placing a historic $10 billion valuation on the franchise. It’s the highest price ever for an American sports team — but as with everything involving the Lakers, the dollar amount is only the surface of the story.
This wasn’t just a business decision. It was the careful unwinding of a dynasty, the kind that defined not just a team or a league, but an entire city.
When Jerry Buss bought the Lakers, Los Angeles wasn’t yet the basketball capital of the world. The team had one championship in L.A., a young Kareem, and Magic Johnson was still at Michigan State. But Buss saw something no one else did: basketball could be more than sport — it could be entertainment. Under his ownership, the Lakers became Showtime. They weren’t just a team; they were a cultural force.
Buss knew the value of spectacle. He installed dancers, built out luxury seating, made the Forum Club the place to be. He understood star power and leveraged it — first with Magic and Kareem, later with Shaq and Kobe, and eventually with LeBron. The Lakers became a dynasty not just because of talent, but because of the aura Jerry Buss engineered. Eleven championships later, his legacy is cemented.
But dynasties built on personality rarely transfer cleanly. When Jerry passed in 2013, he left the Lakers to all six of his children through a trust — equal parts, equal power, and, eventually, equal tension.
At the heart of the trust was a unique provision: a “last-man-standing” clause. If any of the Buss siblings were to die, their share would be redistributed among the surviving siblings. On paper, it ensured the team would remain under family control for as long as possible. But in practice, it became a ticking clock.
As the siblings aged, their individual goals, interests, and financial needs diverged. Some remained active in the organization. Others did not. Some wanted to cash in. Others wanted to hold on. And in the middle of it all stood Jeanie Buss — the daughter who grew up in the locker room, who shadowed her father at games, and who inherited not just his authority, but his burden.
In 2017, after years of internal strife, Jeanie took full control of the franchise. A legal dispute with her brothers Jim and Johnny — including a boardroom coup attempt — ended with Jeanie emerging as controlling governor. It was a victory, but not a resolution. The trust structure remained. So did the family dynamics.
For several years, Jeanie Buss led the Lakers with dignity and passion. She oversaw a dramatic rebuild, greenlit the blockbuster acquisition of LeBron James, and celebrated a 17th championship in 2020 — a bubble title that was, in many ways, the most hard-fought of them all.
But winning wasn’t getting easier.
The NBA had changed. Billionaire owners with corporate machinery behind them — like Steve Ballmer with the Clippers, Josh Harris with the Sixers, or Joe Tsai in Brooklyn — had begun to redefine the financial expectations of ownership. These weren’t families running sports teams. These were institutional titans building asset portfolios.
The Lakers, for all their fame, began to feel the squeeze. Competing financially with owners who could inject unlimited capital into player development, analytics, media teams, and global outreach became harder. Star signings helped, but the infrastructure around the team was no longer cutting-edge. Legacy had become, paradoxically, a liability.
Enter Mark Walter.
In 2021, Walter purchased Phil Anschutz’s 26% stake in the Lakers — a quiet but significant move. Along with the equity came a key provision: right of first refusal should the Buss family ever sell. Walter, already the controlling owner of the Los Angeles Dodgers and co-owner of Chelsea FC, had been steadily building one of the most powerful sports portfolios in the world.
His model was methodical. With the Dodgers, he turned a faltering franchise into a powerhouse — two World Series titles, 11 division crowns, and a world-class farm system. Chelsea, despite its turbulence, has remained a global brand under his ownership. He also owns the WNBA’s Sparks and Cadillac’s Formula 1 team under TWG Motorsports.
Walter wasn’t just a buyer. He was a builder. And Jeanie Buss knew it.
Sources close to the family say Jeanie never considered selling to anyone else. Walter’s reputation for quiet excellence, his Los Angeles ties, and his deep pockets made him the perfect steward for the franchise. Most importantly, Walter agreed to one condition: Jeanie Buss would remain governor and run day-to-day operations for years to come.
The sale was approved via majority vote among the Buss siblings. The family retains a minority stake of just over 15%, preserving a symbolic connection to the franchise. But operational control now lies with Walter and TWG Global — a transition the NBA Board of Governors is expected to ratify with little resistance.
This wasn’t a hostile takeover. It was a generational handoff. Magic Johnson, who has deep ties to both Buss and Walter, praised the move on social media, calling Walter “the best choice” and assuring fans the Lakers were in good hands.
And fans may agree. Walter’s record with the Dodgers speaks for itself. He’s not flashy, but he’s focused. He doesn’t dominate press conferences, but he empowers people who do. And most of all, he wins.
The deal’s timing is also significant. NBA franchise valuations have exploded in recent years, driven by international growth, rising media rights, and the league’s growing cultural influence. Mark Cuban sold the Mavericks for $3.5 billion in 2023. The Celtics are in the process of being sold for $6.1 billion. A $10 billion valuation for the Lakers — with their global brand, championship pedigree, and L.A. market — suddenly doesn’t seem outrageous.
Jeanie Buss, aware of the NBA’s financial cycle, saw that the peak may be now. With looming collective bargaining shifts, rising taxes on high-spending teams (the “second apron” penalties), and a new media rights deal on the horizon, monetizing the asset while maintaining leadership made business sense.
Still, this wasn’t just a financial decision. For the Buss family — and for Lakers fans — it’s the end of something intimate.
For 46 years, the Lakers were run by people who saw the team as more than a business. Jerry Buss treated players like family, dined with them, mentored them, and demanded their best. His children inherited that ethos, even when the wins didn’t come. The Lakers were never a spreadsheet — they were a story.
Jeanie Buss has said publicly that she feels a duty to protect that story. By striking a deal that maintains her leadership while positioning the team for financial and competitive growth, she may have done just that. She passed the torch — but not the soul.
What comes next?
Under Walter’s leadership, the Lakers are expected to invest heavily in infrastructure. There’s talk of modernizing the player development pipeline, enhancing international scouting, and growing the digital and brand strategy teams. With Luka Dončić now on the roster, and the financial muscle to build around him, a new superteam era may be on the horizon.
But more than that, the Lakers will likely become what Jerry Buss first imagined — not just a dominant team, but a dominant business. One that’s scalable, international, modern, and deeply tied to the fabric of Los Angeles.
So yes, the Lakers have been sold. But no, they haven’t been lost.
The Buss family stepped aside at the right moment, with dignity, foresight, and care. Mark Walter didn’t take the team. He inherited a mission — one that began in the Forum, thrived in Staples, and now stretches into a future of streaming apps, global fanbases, and generational stars.
It’s still purple and gold. It’s still Showtime. Only now, the curtain rises on a new act.
