Taurean Prince was never supposed to be the oldest guy in the room. For most of his NBA journey, he played the role of a solid rotation wing — not flashy, not dominant, but reliable. The kind of guy who knew how to fit in. He’d knock down open threes, switch onto multiple positions defensively, and talk just enough on the court to be respected by teammates but not so much as to attract the spotlight. But as the Milwaukee Bucks embark on what may be the most transitional season of the Giannis Antetokounmpo era, Prince looked around the locker room during early summer workouts and found something strange. There was no elder statesman anymore. No elder anything, really. It was just him. And that, more than anything, underscores how radically this Bucks team has changed.
Milwaukee used to be synonymous with veteran leadership. Not just in theory, but in tangible form. Think of names like Jrue Holiday, Brook Lopez, Khris Middleton — guys who had racked up playoff scars, spoken in championship languages, and knew what it took to sustain a deep postseason run. Even when their skills dipped or roles shrank, their voices carried weight. The locker room had an established power structure. That structure is now in flux. Holiday is long gone. Brook Lopez, the final bastion of defensive identity from their 2021 championship, is now playing in Houston. Middleton remains, but injuries and inconsistency have rendered him less of a commanding presence than in years past. Damian Lillard is the star addition, sure, but he’s still learning how to lead a team with Giannis on it, and his own defense has drawn as much criticism as his shot-making has earned praise. Into that vacuum steps Taurean Prince.
Prince isn’t the most talented player on the team. He knows that. Giannis is a generational force, Lillard a future Hall-of-Famer, Bobby Portis a folk hero. But Prince brings something this new-look Bucks team badly needs: perspective. At 31 years old, he has played on seven NBA teams in eight seasons, with multiple playoff appearances and a reputation for staying ready regardless of role. That kind of journeyman mileage has its own wisdom. He’s seen locker rooms implode. He’s seen young cores struggle to communicate. He’s seen coaches panic, players tune out, and contenders fall apart at the seams. And maybe most importantly, he’s learned when to speak up and when to let silence do the talking.
What makes this development particularly symbolic is how much it contradicts the vision Milwaukee had even just a year ago. This was a team built for veteran dominance. Their rotation was filled with thirtysomethings. Every move screamed “win now.” The trade for Lillard only reinforced that mindset. But now, Prince is the one with the most playoff reps aside from the core trio. And he’s never been past the second round. That isn’t a knock on Prince — it’s a warning flare about how thin this team has become in terms of championship-tested depth. They’ve pivoted from a fortress of experience to a squad in search of chemistry.
Of course, this change didn’t happen in a vacuum. The Bucks’ new front office under GM Jon Horst has signaled a desire to modernize the roster. They wanted shooting, versatility, positional flexibility — all the buzzwords. Hiring head coach Doc Rivers midseason last year was supposed to stabilize things, but instead, it exposed deeper fractures in the team’s identity. They were too old, too slow, too rigid. Now, youth is being injected, whether organically or out of necessity. Players like Andre Jackson Jr. and A.J. Green are getting developmental attention. MarJon Beauchamp is expected to take a leap. And in the middle of it all is Taurean Prince, bridging the gap between an aging core and a younger, unproven supporting cast.
