Artis Gilmore’s story is once again finding new life, as renewed attention around the ABA is reminding basketball fans just how much one generation of stars changed the sport forever. With the release of the Prime docuseries Soul Power: The Legend of the American Basketball Association, younger audiences are being introduced to players whose influence can still be seen all across the modern game.

Among the most important names from that era is Artis Gilmore, a towering force who became one of the defining faces of the American Basketball Association. Standing 7 foot 2, wearing his signature afro, and dominating the paint with rare power and presence, Gilmore looked like the perfect symbol of a league that thrived on style, rebellion, and fearless innovation.

The ABA was never just another basketball league trying to survive in the shadow of the NBA. It was bold, flashy, and unapologetically different. Its famous red, white, and blue ball, its embrace of the three point shot, its love for creative offense, and its high flying identity helped build the foundation for the version of basketball the world celebrates today.

Few players represented that spirit better than Gilmore during his years with the Kentucky Colonels from 1971 to 1976. He did not merely fit into the ABA’s colorful world. He stood above it, both literally and figuratively, as one of the most dominant big men the sport had ever seen.

His résumé during that stretch was extraordinary. In 1972, Gilmore captured both ABA Rookie of the Year and ABA MVP, an immediate statement that he was not simply a promising young player, but already one of the league’s central figures. Just two years later, he added All Star MVP honors, continuing to strengthen a legacy that was already growing rapidly.

Then in 1975, Gilmore reached one of the great peaks of his professional career when he led the Colonels to the ABA championship and earned Playoff MVP honors. For many fans of that era, that run remains one of the clearest examples of how completely he could control a game with his size, skill, and presence.

When the ABA and NBA joined forces in 1976, Gilmore moved into the next chapter of his career with the Chicago Bulls, where he played until 1982. In Chicago, he remained a major force, helping the Bulls reach the playoffs in 1977 and 1981, while earning four All Star selections and averaging 19.3 points and 11.1 rebounds per game during his run with the franchise.

Even with those accomplishments, Gilmore has admitted there is one lingering regret when he reflects on his years in Chicago. He does not speak with bitterness, but with the perspective of a man who understands exactly how difficult it is to win at the highest level without enough elite help around you.

“It was really a good experience, but unfortunately, I think about all the players who have had lots of success,” Gilmore said. “Every one of those players has two or three Hall of Famers next to them, but I never had that honor during my career in Chicago.”

He continued by making his point even more directly, saying, “You had to have at least three Hall of Famers on the team to expect to excel and make a difference.” It is the kind of reflection that carries weight, because it comes from someone who experienced greatness individually, yet knew how hard it was to turn that greatness into championships without the right supporting cast.

There is also an irony to that thought when looking back now, because in 1987, Gilmore returned for one more season with the Bulls and briefly shared the floor with Michael Jordan, who would later define the franchise more than anyone else. It was a fascinating overlap between two basketball eras, though far too late to reshape the story Gilmore had already lived in Chicago.

Still, Gilmore’s legacy is not only about what happened on the court. It is also about what has not yet happened off it. For decades, he and many other ABA legends have pushed for the league’s records to be formally recognized alongside NBA records. That issue remains one of the most important unfinished business matters tied to the history of professional basketball.

Ever since the ABA dissolved, its statistical records have remained separate from official NBA record books. That has left many accomplishments from that league in a strange historical limbo, even though several ABA franchises, including the San Antonio Spurs, Denver Nuggets, Indiana Pacers, and New York Nets, were absorbed into the NBA. Meanwhile, teams like the Kentucky Colonels disappeared entirely.

Because of that structure, the so called “merger” has often felt less like a true joining of equals and more like an expansion that left parts of the ABA behind. For Gilmore, that means a significant portion of what he achieved has never been fully folded into the broader statistical record of the sport.

And those numbers are not minor. Gilmore is the ABA leader in defensive rebounds with 11,514. He is also third in field goal percentage at .582, fourth in blocked shots with 3,148, and sixth in total rebounds with 16,079 when combining his ABA and NBA work. His career scoring total of 24,941 points places him above legends such as Patrick Ewing and Charles Barkley on the all time list when both leagues are considered together.

Those numbers tell a powerful story on their own. They show that Gilmore was not merely one of the best players in a forgotten league. He was one of the most productive and dominant big men in the full history of professional basketball. Yet because the records remain separated, his place in the sport’s mainstream conversation is often smaller than it should be.

Gilmore has made peace with much of his journey, but he has also been honest about what official recognition would mean to him. “It’s been a work in progress for over 50 years,” he said. “Until it happens, there is not going to be a lot of Artis Gilmore, and my accomplishments, until they combine and put it all together.”

That quote captures more than frustration. It captures the quiet sadness of a legend who knows his legacy is still incomplete in the eyes of history, not because he failed to achieve enough, but because the system has never fully counted what he accomplished.

Long before his professional greatness, Gilmore had already left a major mark on the college game with Jacksonville University. In 1970, he led the Dolphins to an incredible 27 and 2 record, carrying them all the way to the National Championship game against the mighty UCLA Bruins, who were deep in the middle of one of the greatest dynasties basketball has ever seen.

Jacksonville lost that title game 80 to 69, but the run itself became one of the most significant moments in school history. Gilmore still reflects on that period with enormous pride, not only because of the basketball success, but because of the larger social context surrounding it.

“It’s pretty special looking back over those years and what took place at Jacksonville University,” Gilmore said. “That was just an incredible experience, now considering all the other things that were going on in the country.”

That last part matters deeply, because Gilmore’s rise did not happen in a vacuum. He came of age during one of the most turbulent periods in modern American history, a time shaped by racial tension, political division, violence, and national grief. He recalled what it was like to be playing tournament basketball while race riots were erupting and while the country was still reeling from the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr.

“Just two years before Martin Luther King was assassinated, there were so many other negative things going on, and for us to be there front row,” Gilmore said. “We could see in Ohio, preparing to play in the first round, there were riots. There was a lot going on, and for us at that particular time in the environment that I grew up in, it was just exceptional, extraordinary, and we were just happy to be a part of it.”

Those words add a deeper layer to his story. Gilmore was not simply a towering basketball talent navigating games and trophies. He was also a young Black athlete moving through a country in conflict, helping lead one of the first Southern college basketball teams to start three Black players: Gilmore, Pembrook Burrows III, and Chip Dublin.

That alone makes Jacksonville’s story historically important, and it is one reason the documentary Jacksonville Who? continues to hold value for anyone interested in the intersection of sports, race, and cultural change. The team did more than win games. It challenged expectations and helped reshape what college basketball in the South could look like.

Now, with renewed interest in the ABA and the legends who helped build its mythos, Gilmore’s name is returning to conversations where it has long belonged. His story stretches across college basketball, the revolutionary years of the ABA, the demanding world of the NBA, and the unresolved fight for historical recognition.

He was a champion, an MVP, an All Star, a statistical giant, and a symbol of an era that still echoes through today’s game. For younger fans learning about him now, Artis Gilmore is not just a figure from the past. He is proof that some of basketball’s most important builders have still not received the full credit they earned.