Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown
– William Shakespeare, Henry IV

It’s fair to say that both Denver’s baseball and basketball worlds have been more rocky than Rockie lately—not because of a dropped-in-the-rain pop fly or a Game 7 loss, but by front-office shakeups that revolve around a common denominator: family business. On one side, the Colorado Rockies have made a widely criticized decision in tapping Walker Monfort, 38, the eldest son of team owner Dick Monfort, to become Executive Vice President and eventual successor to replace a 30-year organizational stalwart. On the other, the Denver Nuggets have leaned into an unorthodox leadership plan with co-GM hires—Ben Tenzer and Jon Wallace—under the watchful eye of 45-year-old team president Josh Kroenke, heir to the Kroenke sporting empire.

With both franchises effectively passing the baton to relative newcomers, the stakes are ridiculously high, both for a team with championship aspirations and one who is simply trying to get out of the gutter. Success means reward and credibility; failure, well… let’s just say sports fans have long memories and sharp pitchforks for perceived nepotism. So fasten your seatbelts: these are very different and terrifying rides.

Rockies Reality Check: From Corporate Partnerships to the Corner Office

Walk into Coors Field’s executive suite these days and you might do a double-take: the chief nameplate now reads “Walker Monfort,” a 38-year-old whose 20-year Rockies résumé runs from corporate-partnerships to clubhouse operations. For two decades, Walker cycled through ticketing, gameday promotions, grounds crew, and front-office internships. In 2015 he was officially named VP of Corporate Partnerships—a solid gig, to be sure, but not necessarily the kind of role that screams “I’m next in line for team president.”

Yet early Thursday, with the Rockies floundering at an 18–62 clip—the worst start in franchise history—owner Dick Monfort announced that longtime president/COO Greg Feasel would step down after the season. By January 2026, his eldest son Walker will assume Feasel’s duties, overseeing everything from baseball operations budgets to community outreach. He’ll become the second-youngest person currently helming a MLB club. Think of it as the ultimate “corporate rotation,” with a family twist.

Fans, already nursing the wounds of a team on pace to set a new record for losses, have not been shy about voicing nepotism or skepticism. To be fair, Walker’s two decades at Coors Field do count for something, but his experience is varied and often far from the front office. Leading a baseball club is more akin to captaining a cruise ship than steering a NASCAR pit crew. One misstep and the whole operation can sink.

Walker himself has acknowledged the smell of cynicism. “I understand fans want to see proven experience,” he told local reporters with a diplomatic smile. “I’ve worked every role here—from the grass to the stands to the boardroom. I love this team, and I’m committed to earning that trust every day.” Whether that all ends up ringing true will depend on the next couple years of team development, and, crucially, those hard-to-garner wins.

Father/Owner/Rockie-in-Chief Dick Monfort insists that this isn’t some vanity play: “Walker brings a fresh, forward-looking mindset,” he said in his announcement. “He’s earned this through hands-on experience in every department.” But by handing over the reins to a son rather than a veteran baseball executive, the Rockies are essentially doubling down on a family business model in the middle of a historically bad season, and a bad moment for the Monfort brand amongst Rockies fans. If the team’s fortunes don’t turn around, the Monfort name may become permanently synonymous with front-office failure.

Nuggets’ New Era: Two GMs, One Kroenke—and a Lot on the Line

If the Rockies’ move feels like nepotism’s boldest hour, the Nuggets moves feel more like a revisitation of an old solution. After a first‐ever NBA title in 2023, Denver headlined headlines by parting ways with veteran GM Calvin Booth and long‐time coach Michael Malone just three games before the 2025 regular season finale. Enter Josh Kroenke—son of billionaire owner Stan Kroenke—who waited an unexpectedly long while to announce two co-general managers: Ben Tenzer (salary‐cap whiz turned G League GM) and Jon Wallace (ex-Timberwolves G League exec). Together, the two first-timers are charged with “maximizing what’s left of Nikola Jokic’s MVP prime.”

“Abnormal” is a word that gets thrown around lightly in professional sports, but Josh Kroenke wanted to re-cast the idea when it was used to describe his front office choices. Instead, he embraced “unorthodox.” After all, the Nuggets built a championship on a 41st draft pick—Jokic—and blue-collar grit. They have had success (mostly) with first-time GM hires. Why not apply the same maverick ethos to this management round? In theory, splitting duties—Tenzer handling cap math, Wallace leveraging scouting relationships—could yield a synergy greater than the sum of their two somewhat modest résumés.

So what could possibly go wrong? A lot, with Kroenke’s reputation on the line. Tenzer and Wallace are in their mid-30s, with zero NBA GM experience. They’ve never executed a blockbuster trade, drafted a future All-Star, or navigated the delicate locker-room politics of a title contender. If Jokic eventually demands a salary‐cap–breaking extension, who sits at the negotiation table? Two rookies and the team president? Hoping all those voices are in unison. .

To his credit, Tenzer was interim GM for a spell in spring, and Wallace has spent years evaluating talent in Minnesota with former Nuggets GM TIm Connelly. Both Tenzer and Wallace will report directly to Josh, who promises to “hold the rope” just tight enough to let them run, eventually stepping further back from decisions. Their first assignment: find creative ways to surround Jokic, Jamal Murray, Aaron Gordon, and Michael Porter Jr. with low-cost talent. That means combing through G League rosters, hunting bargains in Europe, or pouncing on undervalued veterans—magic that even seasoned executives find elusive.

And let’s not overlook the Kroenke name itself. Stan Kroenke’s empire spans from football to soccer to hockey. Josh has been handling the reins of the Avs and Nuggets for some time now, and has the success of some championships under his belt. He’s also the self-proclaimed steward of the Jokic era. If this gamble fails—if Denver’s window literally shuts because they can’t surround Jokic with success again—critics will point to one thing: inexpensive decision-making leading to inexperienced heirs thrust prematurely into power.

The Rockies and Nuggets could not be more different on the field (or court), especially in their current trajectories. But their recent leadership plays share some DNA: family succession, steep learning curves, and outsized bets on risky moves. In Denver’s sports narrative, this is the point where the tales get interesting—or tragic.

In the Mile High City, sports fandom’s patience is in short supply, especially when a team has shown they can win a championship. Fans barely endured almost a decade of playoff futility in football; They were very fair-weather when hockey hit the skids for a few years; they’ll be less forgiving if basketball misfires thanks to front‐office miscalculations, or if baseball can’t ever get itself out of its record-setting doldrums. The Monforts and Kroenkes have effectively staked their reputations on these gambits.

The bottom line is this: the next 12–24 months will define whether these high-risk, high-question moves are masterstrokes of succession planning—or cautionary tales. If Walker Monfort can shake off the “owner’s son/nepo-baby” label and turn the Rockies around, he’ll earn a legacy that extends beyond a nameplate, and the adoring loyalty of a fanbase that has been suffering long. If Tenzer and Wallace, under Josh Kroenke’s tutelage, can keep Nikola Jokic’s dynasty alive without breaking the bank, Denver’s basketball blueprint may become the next industry case study, and there may be papers written on Kroenke’s consistent selection process. If either or neither are true, Denver’s fans will say those family names with more venom than a rattlesnake.

Until the dust has settled, cynics will hurl barbs, and optimists will hold their breath. Legacies are on the line. For better or worse, winning—or losing—now rests squarely at the feet of those few who share a branch or two off the old family tree.