Twelve days before the draft, Damian Jones was trying to bump his stock. That required traveling the NBA circuit to various stops for random workouts with different teams.

He was in Orlando. He was on the bench press. He was pumping 185 pounds. He was on his sixth rep. His right arm kind of gave out.

“I thought maybe I dislocated my shoulder or something,” Jones said. “I was trying to hold it up and I just couldn’t get it off. I asked the guy, ‘Did you see something happen?’ It was strange.”

With some help, Jones slugged the metal off and then, a bit startled, went to the training room to put ice on this mysterious swelling. An MRI soon revealed his torn right pectoral muscle – a painful, relatively rare injury attached to an extended recovery time. Draft sites now had a red flag to add to his bio.

“I was a little worried,” Jones said.

Without the incident, maybe he goes sooner. Maybe the Warriors can’t snag him at 30. But the road led to Golden State, where a unique, potentially ideal, situation awaits the 21-year-old center.

JaVale McGee is a non-guaranteed training camp body. He may not last to Halloween. Zaza Pachulia came cheap, but he’s on a one-year deal. Same with David West and Anderson Varejao, two accomplished but far-past-their-prime big men.

The Warriors have five non-small ball centers. Only one is signed beyond June: Damian Jones.

He can’t play yet. Which is OK. The Warriors don’t yet need him. But this franchise – loaded with stars, but starved for useful size – knows Jones’ development will become crucial for this roster’s back-layering.

Golden State’s core will only get more expensive. There’s no room for a high-priced big men. But Jones isn’t. He’ll make $1.1 and $1.2 million the next two seasons, then $1.3 and $2.3 million, both team options, the two years after. If he hits, that’s gold in this market. If he doesn’t, that could turn into a Golden State problem just as Karl-Anthony Towns and Anthony Davis hit their primes.

“If you look around the league, big guys are always at a premium,” Bob Myers said. “Especially athletic bigs. We sometimes demean them by going small. We’re probably one of the teams that do that. But they’re very necessary.”

Jones arrived in the Bay Area a couple weeks ago. He was at the Warriors’ facility this past Tuesday. He’s massive – measured at 7-foot, 244 pounds – but his greeting is polite and a bit giggly. Just about everything he says is followed by a soft, uncontrollable chuckle.

This is an entirely new world for him. He grew up in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, and played college ball at Vanderbilt, in Nashville, two time zones away. They traveled to Stanford and St. Mary’s in the 2015 NIT. That’s the only time he can remember coming to the Bay Area. Now he’s a resident. What’s he noticed?

“Healthier lifestyle,” Jones said. “I always see people exercising and stuff.”

On this day, Jones had just completed a workout of his own. After surgery, he’d been reduced to only leg exercises. But now he’s progressed to some upper-body stuff. Some stretching. Nothing on the court yet. That should come soon. He’s scheduled to meet with the doctor this week. But Jones won’t be ready for the start of training camp and even a late preseason target date sounds overly optimistic.

So September will be about recovery. But also acclimation. A circus awaits this team. Jones knows it. He just has no idea what that’ll be like, no reference point. He hasn’t even met Stephen Curry or Klay Thompson or any of the big men that’ll soon be tagged as his mentors.

Kevin Durant showed up at the facility on this Tuesday, introduced himself to Jones and asked the rookie a little about his background. It was a short but memorable conversation, at least for one side.

“It was really cool,” Jones said.

But in time, the Warriors must find out if Jones can cut it at this level. The physical tools are his appeal. Despite his size, he’s a smooth athlete, able to slide and shift and jump and run with less awkwardness than most bigs.

That never translated into stardom at Vanderbilt. He was solid all three years, hovering around 12 points and six rebounds per game. But there was never that massive breakthrough. Scouts say his energy level wavered and his offensive game remained a bit unpolished.

Growing up, Jones heard Antonio McDyess comparisons. He loves watching LaMarcus Aldridge. Those are long-term, shoot-for-the-moon career goals. But one pre-draft service had a different NBA comparison: Festus Ezeli, a result that may turn Warriors fans a bit lukewarm.

For now, that’ll be tough for Jones to shed that shadow. Ezeli also went to Vanderbilt. He was also the 30th overall pick. Until this summer, he also played for the Warriors.

“People telling me, ‘you’re the new Festus,’ around here,” Jones said.

During his Warriors’ tenure, health was one of Ezeli’s biggest issues. He flashed promise, but struggled to stay on the court.

Jones, of course, starts his Warriors career on the shelf. But the team remains confident this was an isolated, freak injury. This was the first surgery of his life. Jones appeared in all 99 of Vanderbilt’s games during his three years at the school.

“Besides the pectoral injury, he’s really healthy as far as knees, ankles, back,” Myers said. “Which is also another thing that’s hard to find with big guys.”

And once Jones returns, we’ll start to get a better sense of what the Warriors actually found.