In early May, after the Warriors lost 95-134 to the Grizzlies' semifinals, Warriors assistant Mike Brown — who served as acting head coach during games 4 and 5 of the series in which Kerr was absent due to coronavirus positivity — sent a text message to Kerr with his own suggestion for Game 6 of the series: The Warriors should start Looney at G6 and replace young Jonathan Kuminga.
As a defensive assistant on the Warriors' coaching staff, after watching the Grizzlies pound the Warriors with 18 offensive rebounds, he knew which player would solve the problem in the next game. It's a risky choice, with going up the towers meaning bad space, Curry facing tougher defensive tests and a lack of bench interior.
But Looney dismissed all concerns in the sixth game. He grabbed 22 rebounds and five assists on the inside of the Grizzlies, creating multiple shots for Curry, Thompson and Poole with countless blocks and hand-to-hand. In addition to protecting the rebound, the team's offense was not only not dragged down by him, but more fluid. After the game, Cole attributed the victory to Looney's excellent play and Brown's insight.
Last night, Brown could only stand on the sidelines, helplessly watching as his once-hand-picked love snatched rebounds from the Kings' interior one by one and beat his team to the ground.
No dreams, no problem. To everyone's surprise, in a game where Green could only watch from the sidelines because of the ban, the defending champion instead had the upper hand on the inside. Looney grabbed 20 rebounds, including nine key frontcourt rebounds. The Warriors teammate picked up his pass and scored 23 points on 9-of-9 shooting. On three occasions, he grabbed offensive rebounds and provided assists, including Curry's three-point shot that extended the gap to 12 points before the end of the first half.
Brown, who had just been named Coach of the Year, warned his players before the game: "If we are overconfident, we will definitely be beaten because the people on the opposite side are the champions. ”
Before being destroyed by Looney's cover and offensive rebounds, not everyone can remember that Looney was also a championship center. Scrambling for offensive rebounds requires a player's excellent positional ability and good judgment of where rebounds land, and that's what Looney is best at and favorite part of the game. While fans go crazy after a three-pointer after an offensive rebound, Looney draws joy from the pain of his opponent: the player with his head pulled, the coach angry with the player, and from these images, he can find his own meaning.
Playing center for the Warriors, it's a very different kind of job than most team centers. He doesn't need to score a lot of points, and his main job is a lot of cover, organization, defense, grabbing rebounds and other chores. Looney did all this well, but in Cole's opinion, the ones he did best were off the pitch.
The Warriors' success stems from their team spirit. From Curry, perhaps the most selfless superstar in NBA history, to the unparalleled chemistry of Curry, to the style of play guided by Kerr's shared spirit, the strength of the Warriors' strength lies in the collective. The essence of their success is those clichés that every high school physical education teacher around the world would reiterate before a game — basketball is five people, you have to try to be part of a team, do what you have to do, and then trust your teammates without reservation.
Looney is a banner of that spirit. As a member of an NBA championship team, it's easy to forget that spirit by the distractions of the flower world. Pat Riley called it "the champion itself that kills the champion." As the Warriors pursue their fifth title in nine years, there will always be people who find themselves straying from their essence from time to time.
But Looney never will.
Kerr called Looney the Warriors' "moral benchmark," not because he oversaw and corrected the behavior of his teammates in the locker room, but because Looney remained the same as he did on the first day he joined the team amid soap operas, over-interpretations, false publicity and fame that came with the Warriors' massive success. He is not distorted by the environment of drunken gold. He will not be lured away from his essence. He will not be defeated by adversity and misfortune. He is as strong as a big tree planted by the river, the river comes and goes, and he will always be Looney.
Cole describes what he brings to the team: "You have a player on the team who has experienced numerous setbacks in his career, starting with health problems — two hip surgeries, a nerve damage. At that time, I could always see him diligently rehabilitated. When he returned, he came to the stadium every day and never missed a training session. He was punctual and he was never late for the appointed time. Then he became a prolific athlete, and whether you let him start or play as a substitute, he can make a difference, but you don't even pout once when you change him. When you have someone like that in your team, he can be a role model for every player every day, in every field. This guy is a metronome, he works hard every day, sharpens his mentality, improves his technique, and nothing can interfere with him. It was my pleasure to coach him. I've never worried about Looney – never. ”
In addition to Looney's good self-cultivation and relentless self-pursuit. We can also attribute his good work ethic to the Warriors' locker room atmosphere at the time. Surrounded by NBA veterans like David West, Zaza Pachulia, Anderson Valrejo and Andre Iguodala, the good Looney naturally absorbed their experience — not just how to approach games and training, but even how to manage money and how life should be lived.
Once, he fell in love with a Bentley, which Looney liked so much that he could afford it. But before he paid, he suddenly remembered what the seniors had talked about, those players who spent money lavishly after getting big contracts, and ended up going bankrupt or even going into debt. He didn't end up buying the Bentley either.
Yes, Looney also wants luxury cars, wants big houses, wants big contracts. He also wants to start every game. He also wants to be on the pitch in the last minute and become a hero of the team. He also wants to score every goal and have more possession. He also wants to be admired, even loved.
Looney's peace is not the absence of desires and desires, but that he can reconcile with them correctly.
Sometimes, when Looney looks at the fans in the stands, he gets a little excited to see the Warriors' No. 5 jersey. He will keep his gaze locked for a second, hoping to catch a glimpse of the back of the jersey. Or see some clues to tell whose jersey it is: "If it was last year, it would definitely be Barang." ”
The most famous Golden State Warriors No. 5 jersey does indeed belong to Baron Davis, the big brother of the Golden State gangster who created the "Black Eight Miracle". Occasionally, it may belong to Maris Spants, a projective backup interior lineman modeled after our boss and beloved by Warriors fans. Even less rare is Tim Hardaway, who wore the No. 10 jersey when the Warriors played their best, but No. 5 during his rookie season. But this season, Looney said about half of the time, he found the No. 5 shirt with "Looney" written on it.
Fans are not part of the team, but in this information age, they can try to get as real as possible through games and interviews. With good professionalism, great loyalty and increasingly trustworthy court performances, Looney's popularity is secretly rising among die-hard Warriors fans.
Two seasons ago, Looney was a great inspirational story, and I've written a lot of stories like that. He was drafted the summer when the Golden State Warriors won their first championship and wasn't even a center before entering the NBA. In the first five seasons of his career, he played only 36 starters with the star-studded Warriors, but after being reimbursed for a season of core muscle injuries, he persevered and became a "fake starter" for the Warriors. This is not easy.
Now, this ordinary inspirational story has grown into a more engaging narrative. Having suffered a major injury, he has played 164 games in two consecutive seasons and has become the "iron man" of the Warriors. He could have had the opportunity to leave the Warriors to pursue his desires, but his values weren't consumed by those desires. This season has been the best of his career, averaging 7 points, 9.3 rebounds and 2.5 assists in a career-high 23.9 minutes. He ranks first in the league in 274 frontcourt rebounds this season and third-in the league with 15.7 percent frontcourt rebounding percentage. Except for the most die-hard fans and the most ball-savvy commentators, no one cares about the data. But everyone can feel his importance to the Warriors: He once couldn't play on this team, and now you can hardly imagine a Warriors team without him.
He is always happy with his situation: "My family is always happy because I can play on the highest stage. It's the best feeling as an athlete, as a competitor. Unless someone gives me an offer that drives me crazy, I don't want to give up on that, I don't want to give up the chance to compete for a championship. ”
The offer is not crazy. Last offseason, he signed a three-year, $22 million contract with the Warriors. He's the 39th-ranked center by revenue this season, with the Lone Ranger's Dwight Powell, the Pacers' Daniel Theis and the Knicks' Isaiah Haltenstein all earning more than him. In 2019, he locked up Capela, who was at his peak, but Capela can now earn him three years a year.
He has been in and out of the starting lineup, he has been glued to the bench in key moments and can only be used as a water cooler keeper, he has been belittled countless times because of his offensive ability, and the Warriors have tried many times to find a replacement for him, from Jordan Bale to Wiseman, but these replacements were eventually replaced by him. He hasn't gotten a big price in free agency twice yet, even though he's better, tougher, smarter and better able to win than the big guys who earn more than him.
Sometimes it's frustrating, sometimes it's hurtful, and sometimes it takes people out of motivation to persevere and improve. But Looney has always reconciled with this unfair world in his own way. He stands in stark contrast to his star-studded star teammates: He never seems to jump, moves slowly, can't shoot, and revels only in the menial work that others don't bother to do, but he's also become the unsung hero of the Golden State Warriors in his own way.
Perhaps one day, people will carve a group portrait of this legendary warrior team in the Chase Center. If Stephen Curry's texture is gold, then Looney should have been carved from the strongest iron or steel – not just for his three rings, but also for his immeasurable impact and sacrifice on this championship era.
Looney scoffed at the idea that he might have statues too, he didn't have such worldly desires. In his best imagination, one day, he could put his jersey in a window in the center of Chase. Not as a retired number that no one will ever wear again, but as a jersey to show fans and as a small footnote to the great Golden State Warriors:
Kevin Looney, used to be here.