Warrior through and through General manager low-key, smart, and a lifetime fan

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First, know this about Bob Myers: His emotional investment in the Warriors runs staggeringly deep.

As a kid, he built a small shrine to the team in his room in Alamo - photos, hats, newspaper clips, pennants glued to the ceiling. As a law-school student and budding sports agent in Los Angeles, he routinely wore a Warriors sweatshirt in the heart of Lakers country.

And now, as Golden State's general manager, Myers carries laminated evidence of his lifelong devotion. It's a ticket stub from the first Warriors game he attended, with his dad and brother on Jan. 15, 1982 (a win over the Knicks). Upper loge, Section 234, Row K, Seat 2.

The ticket cost $7. Myers was 6 years old.

More than three decades later, Warriors tickets cost a tad more than $7 and Myers finds himself in a curious position - making trades, signing free agents and drafting players for his favorite childhood team. He has become an instrumental figure in the rejuvenation of this long-moribund franchise.

The Warriors have been his team, in a sense, for a long time. Now they are his team in an entirely different way.

Bob Myers, promoted to general manager of the Warriors about two years ago, carries a devotion into his job ingrained by growing up a fan of the team. Bob Myers, promoted to general manager of the Warriors about two years ago, carries a devotion into his job ingrained by growing up a fan of the team. Photo: Michael Short, Special To The Chronicle Photo: Michael Short, Special To The Chronicle Image 1 of / 7 Caption Close Warrior through and through 1 / 7 Back to Gallery

"That combination of caring so much about something and then working within it - that's unique," Myers said. "It's combustible. That's what I struggle with sometimes."

Myers, who was born about two months before the Warriors won their only NBA championship (he turns 39 this month), rattled off names from the team's past. He watched Joe Barry Carroll play, fondly recalled the section of fans wearing hard hats in honor of rugged forward Larry Smith and savored the Run TMC days of Tim Hardaway, Mitch Richmond and Chris Mullin.

Here's a true measure of Myers' fanaticism: He included Keith "Mister" Jennings on the short list of memorable Warriors players of his youth.

But the dynamics have changed in the past 23 months, ever since owner Joe Lacob promoted Myers to general manager in April 2012. That created a strange brew of exhilaration and frayed nerves. If the Warriors win, Myers worries about the next game. If they lose, he often blames himself.

"You feel a heavy responsibility," he said.

Jud Kroplin, a long-ago teammate at Monte Vista High in Danville, attended a Warriors game this season and saw the way Myers squirmed. This doesn't distinguish him from other GMs - they're an anxiety-filled species - but Myers brings an uncommon layer.

"I think Bob does feel a lot of pressure to be successful," Lacob said. "That's only natural to some extent, but it may be a little extra. It's not just a job to him - it's his dream job, in his hometown, for the team he grew up rooting for.

"It's emotional for him, and it should be."

Blue-collar player

Myers' meticulousness, in some ways, traces to his playing career. He was 5-foot-7 and rail thin as a high school freshman, so he had little choice but to work hard on his game. Myers didn't make the varsity until his junior year at Monte Vista.

He reached 6-5 by his senior season (he's 6-6 1/2 now), when he blossomed into his team's best player and dueled with San Ramon Valley's Mark Madsen, a future Stanford star and longtime NBA player. Even so, Kroplin remembers Myers' work ethic and leadership as much as his athletic ability.

More than once, he persuaded his teammates to watch "Hoosiers" as pregame motivation. Myers also joined the debate team, hardly a conventional path for a standout basketball player.

"He always did little things to make himself uncomfortable, to get better," Kroplin said.

Myers still had no expectation of playing in college, mostly because he attracted no recruiting interest. He chose UCLA for academics and hoped to shift to crew as his athletic pursuit.

Then, on a campus visit with his dad, Larry, they walked through the athletic department and struck up a conversation with assistant basketball coach Steve Lavin. Myers asked for directions to the crew office, Lavin wondered about his interest in basketball (as John Wooden once noted, you can't teach height), and Myers replied, "I'd love to be a team manager."

Not exactly a bold sales pitch.

Myers made the Bruins as a walk-on for the 1993-94 season and was soon practicing with fellow freshmen Charles O'Bannon and Cameron Dollar, who were big-time recruits. O'Bannon was skeptical at first, but he came to appreciate what Myers offered.

"He just earned his way, fought every day in practice, hustled," said O'Bannon, now an assistant coach at Bishop Gorman High in Las Vegas. "He was a solid, blue-collar player."

Thus did Myers launch an improbable journey with one of college basketball's most storied programs. He spent most of his time on the bench, including during the team's 1995 national championship run led by Ed O'Bannon and Tyus Edney, but he loved practice and the camaraderie.

Every now and then, head coach Jim Harrick summoned Myers into a game. Harrick became disgusted with his starters against Oregon State during Myers' junior season, and he responded with 20 points in 22 minutes to help UCLA win. He even made a few starts as a senior.

It was a heady experience for Myers, who still reflects on his college career with a mix of modesty and wide-eyed wonder.

"Playing at UCLA led me to believe you can do things you wouldn't have believed were possible," he said.

For instance, becoming general manager of his Warriors.

Unconventional path

Myers knew playing at UCLA wouldn't lead him to the NBA, but it did propel him toward his career.

Harrick introduced him to high-powered agent Arn Tellem, who hired Myers as an intern and later as an associate. Tellem introduced him to Danny Ainge, president of basketball operations for the Boston Celtics, and Ainge introduced him to Lacob, a onetime minority owner of the Celtics.

Along the way, Myers made little attempt to hide his allegiance. He often encouraged free-agent clients to work out with the Warriors and occasionally turned into a quasi-salesman for the team and the Bay Area, despite the franchise's lingering ineptitude.

Then, not long after Lacob and entertainment mogul Peter Guber bought the Warriors, Ainge called Lacob to recommend Myers as a potential GM. Their initial meeting in December 2010 produced nothing concrete - Myers remembers his skepticism as he returned to Los Angeles and his surprise when Lacob called a few months later.

Lacob had been impressed with Myers' intelligence and exuberance, and Myers was taken with the energy and deep pockets of Golden State's new ownership group. At the same time, given his personal ties, Myers now says, "I would have come no matter what."

He just wasn't entirely sure Lacob wanted him or had a place for him, given Myers' background on the agent side of the business. He had zero experience working for an NBA team until the Warriors hired him as assistant general manager in April 2011, with hopes of grooming him as Larry Riley's successor.

"Joe and Peter paid a lot of money to buy this team," Myers said, "so to take a chance on someone who hadn't done this, I'll always be thankful for that."

Lacob took a chance, but he also created a trial period in which Myers worked alongside Riley. It was an extended audition, essentially, and Myers nailed it - instead of waiting two years, as planned, Lacob made him the GM after only one.

"We wanted someone who would be very good at negotiating contracts and very strategic about building the basketball organization," Lacob said. "My one concern about Bob was, would he have the ability to evaluate talent?"

That's usually the chief task of a general manager, but Myers has plenty of help on this front.

Finding his place

Lacob didn't initially list another necessity for the job: lack of ego.

Myers is low-key and likable, smart without being smug. That profile was essential for the Warriors, given Lacob's heavy involvement. He's no hands-off owner.

"I'm not saying Peter and I have huge egos," Lacob said. Then he paused, chuckled and added, "But we definitely don't have small egos."

This creates a perception, in some quarters, that Lacob is the de facto general manager. Myers painted a picture of collaborative decision-making involving Lacob, executive board member Jerry West, director of player personnel Travis Schlenk and assistant general manager Kirk Lacob (Joe's son).

Myers insisted he's comfortable with the arrangement, and Lacob acknowledged that Myers' personality and listening skills are vital given the circumstances.

"Everyone in the room can't have the last word," Lacob said. "I'm a local owner and I think I know something about basketball. Bob is willing to defer to me or Peter or Jerry with the ego thing.

"He has strong opinions and he's very analytical, so he's a good fit. I think he's been spectacular."

Myers acts like he doesn't have all the answers, maybe another remnant of his modest playing career. He attended a 49ers practice with general manager Trent Baalke to absorb any wisdom about the job he could, and he's also chatted with Billy Beane of the A's.

At the same time, Myers brings specific ideas about how to construct a successful NBA team. Start with this: Size matters.

Not coincidentally, he wholeheartedly endorsed acquiring 7-foot Andrew Bogut for Monta Ellis (Myers was assistant GM at the time), partly because it moved 6-7 shooting guard Klay Thompson into the starting lineup. On Myers' watch, the Warriors also drafted 6-11 center Festus Ezeli and signed Bogut to a three-year, $36 million contract extension.

"This is one thing you draw from playing," Myers said of his emphasis on size. "Anyone who has played knows the difference between going against someone an inch or two shorter than you, as opposed to an inch or two bigger, is monumental. There's a huge difference between 6-8 and 6-10."

Myers' biggest impact as Warriors general manager probably came last summer with the signing of free agent Andre Iguodala. The deal required unloading $24 million in salary, and Myers' relationship with Utah GM Kevin O'Connor helped pull it off. So did his rapport with Iguodala's agent, Rob Pelinka, who remained patient while the Warriors cleared cap space.

Now the question is: Will Iguodala help the Warriors make another playoff splash? That's ultimately how Myers will be judged, on whether his moves allow Golden State to duplicate or exceed last year's spirited run into the conference semifinals.

He knows this, even if no public pressure can match the burden he puts on himself. This is his team, after all. Just check the ticket stub in his wallet.