Kawhi Leonard signed his new NBA contract – five years, $94,343,130 – in San Diego last July. The San Antonio Spurs legal counsel flew out, and they booked a conference room in the La Jolla Colony apartment complex where the 6-foot-7, 230-pound forward spent his summer.

Leonard showed up wearing workout gear. He was in the middle of shooting drills at a nearby gym, the second of (yes) three daily sessions, and happened to look at the clock and realized he had to be somewhere.

He signed the paperwork for the “max contract” that is technically for four years with a player’s option for a fifth and averages to $18.8 million per season. He shook hands. Posed for some quick photos. And then motioned to Taylor Cunningham, his former high school teammate and part of his offseason practice group.

They had to go. They had had another hour at the gym.


“I was scheduled to work out,” Leonard says, “so I did.”

Leonard did “celebrate” with his agent and close friends at a local steakhouse that night, but he politely cut the night short. He had a two-hour session in the weight room at 8 a.m. the next morning, followed by 2½ hours on the court at 11:30, followed by another hour or so of ballhandling and shooting in the late afternoon or evening.

“He’ll be knocking on my bedroom door at 7,” Cunningham says. “He’s like, ‘Get up. Let’s go.’ People think we’re going out, having fun, going to parties, going to clubs. It’s not like that. We’re working hard. We go to bed early.”

If there is a lesson in all this, it’s that the reason the kid from Moreno Valley opens his fifth NBA season on Wednesday night with a $94,343,130 contract is because he doesn’t act like he has a $94,343,130 contract. He finally got rid of the silver Chevy Malibu that he had at San Diego State and took with him to San Antonio … and replaced it with his first car, a ’97 Chevy Tahoe that was sitting in his grandmother’s driveway and he had fixed up.


“It definitely brings back memories once you start it up and drive it,” Leonard says.

Full disclosure: Leonard does own a Porsche.

The truth: Other than game nights, it sits in his garage.

“That thing is in pristine condition,” says Jeremy Castleberry, his high school and college teammate. “Nobody drives it.”


Leonard puts it like this:

“My motivation wasn’t really to get a $95 million contract, you know? I’m not out here just for the money. I want to be a great player. I don’t feel anything changed. I already had money and security. You definitely see a difference in some guys’ games when they do get paid. I’m trying to make sure I’m not that player.”

So in August he held his free skills camp again at the Moreno Valley Rec Center where he played as a youth. He continued to work out three times a day, even as the Spurs ask him to scale back. He didn’t go to clubs, didn’t stay out late, didn’t let the temptation of extravagance soil the foundation of diligence.

“He’s as humble as it gets,” says Brian Elfus, his agent. “Trust me, it hasn’t changed him.”


Leonard is still just 24, three months younger than BYU senior guard Kyle Collingsworth (whom he played against as a sophomore at San Diego State). He already has an NBA title, twice been an all-NBA defensive pick and is one of just three men in league history to be named NBA Finals MVP and defensive player of the year in their career – Michael Jordan and Hakeem Olajuwon being the others.

He has his max contract, something only two other players from the draft class of 2011 can say. He has been invited to USA Basketball’s summer training camp the last two summers and seems destined to play in an Olympics, either in 2016 in Rio de Janeiro under Mike Krzyzewski or in 2020 in Tokyo when the Spurs’ Gregg Popovich is coach.

He makes $18.8 million per year and, thanks to a clause negotiated into the contract by Elfus, could become eligible for unrestricted free agency and even bigger money in 2019.

So what’s left?


He could win a regular-season MVP. He could make the All-Star team. He could lead the league in scoring.

All nice, but not necessary.

“I’m just trying to be the best player I can be,” said Leonard, who averaged 19.2 points and shot 53.9 percent (40.6 percent behind the 3-point arc) over the final two months of last season. “I’m just trying to pass Tim Duncan in championships if I can one day. That’s my motivation, that’s what I strive for. Tim is one of the greatest players who has ever played, so if I could get close or reach that plateau and have my name on that list ...”

Duncan is 39 and in his 19th NBA season. He has five rings.


“I think at the end of the day you’re defined by the championships,” says Castleberry, Leonard’s closest friend who works in the Spurs’ video and player development departments. “It sounds cliché. But he never talks about winning MVP or leading the league in scoring. He just talks about winning championships. More rings, that’s what he wants. Once you get that first ring, you want to get more.”

His circle remains tight. His mother still lives in San Antonio, although no longer in the same house. Castleberry and Cunningham, his high school teammates, comprise his summer workout team. Randy Shelton, SDSU’s strength and conditioning coach, still oversees his weight room sessions in the offseason. His uncle, Dennis Robertson, handles many of his off-the-court affairs.

Leonard even designed the Brand Jordan logo that appears on the back of his personalized sneakers. It’s his 9¾-inch hand with the fingers forming “KL” and his No. 2 jersey number notched into the index finger.

“A lot of guys now do letters with their initials,” Leonard said. “It’s not really a logo. I wanted to make something that’s a part of me. I’m not a good drawer at all. So I just traced my hand and then figured out how the KL could go in there. Then I sent it off to Brand Jordan and they made it more professional.


“But I tried to do as much of it by myself. What’s more original than something you created?”

One of the most anticipated parts of his basketball camp comes after lunch, when Leonard takes the microphone and, in the reverent silence of a gym he once played in as a teenager, lets the kids ask questions that vary from random to insightful.

What size shoe do you wear?

“14.”


Can you do a 360 dunk?

“Yeah, I can do that.”

Was it hard to make the NBA?

“It was hard. I wasn’t a very high-profile player. You have to go to the gym every day, and work.”


How good are you at playing basketball?

“It’s an opinion, so whatever you think.”