07-07-2025
Knicks to sign Guerschon Yabusele
The Warriors couldn't afford to offer center Kevon Looney more than the veteran's minimum without eating into their resources for upgrades. So they did what they usually do — send Looney out into a bear market to see if he could get a better offer. Usually, he couldn't and came back to the Warriors. The $8 million he made last season was the highest salary of his career.
Staying with the Warriors would have meant a nearly $5 million pay cut. But for the first time in his career, the market valued him more than the Warriors. Looney got paid. An era has ended. The Warriors will have to find a new backbone.
He saw this possibility nearly seven weeks ago, after Game 5 in the Western Conference semifinals, when he last took off his Warriors jersey. Golden State's season ended with an unceremonious thud, a gentleman's sweep at the hands of Minnesota, courtesy of a most valuable strained hamstring.
In the visiting locker room after the game, frustration noticeably absent from his face, Looney linked on his necklace and rested the gold medallion over the MSFIT letters across his shirt. He then tied the wrap around his locks, gathered his things and left the locker room. He knew it could have been his last game with the Warriors. Yet no angst could be found. Instead, Looney greeted the uncertainty like an old friend. He smiled as he walked into an unknown future.
'Same s—, different summer,' Looney said in May. 'I don't know. I could be back. But I don't know. I never know after the last game. I've packed all my s— four times.'
No. 5 was the one.
Read the rest of my column on the significance of Looney's departure.
