A dynasty secured Warriors season review: In a challenging eight-month quest, five players led Golden State to a title defense that cemented their place in basketball history

A dynasty secured Warriors season review: In a challenging eight-month quest, five players led Golden State to a title defense that cemented their place in basketball history

Less than 72 hours after the Warriors swept Cleveland in the NBA Finals for their third championship in four years, Oakland-based graffiti artist Vogue put the finishing touches on a giant mural outside Golden State’s practice facility.

There, in big cursive lettering, were the words, “Dubs Dynasty,” flanked by a head shot of Kevin Durant and three Larry O’Brien trophies. The intent was clear: to remind anyone on the corner of 10th Street and Broadway in downtown Oakland of what the Warriors have built.

Each of the golden trophies in that mural represents a journey, an eight-month grind that culminated in the sport’s biggest honor. In the immediate afterglow of Golden State’s Game 4 win over the Cavaliers at Quicken Loans Arena, many members of the Warriors’ organization looked more relieved than joyful, using words like “difficult” and “challenging” to describe their latest path to the NBA title.

Golden State almost always stepped on the court with a considerable talent advantage, but it often had trouble exploiting it. That tendency to get complacent — not any opponent, not even a Houston team that pushed them to seven games in the Western Conference finals — was the Warriors’ biggest obstacle this year.

“Every journey is a new one each season,” Golden State head coach Steve Kerr said. “Yet the cumulative effect of multiple journeys adds up, and we felt that this year. I think it was our most inconsistent season. It was our most difficult season.”

Instead of bulldozing through the competition like many expected, the Warriors were plagued by uninspired defense, silly turnovers and blown box-outs. It didn’t help matters that they endured more injuries to core players than they had in any of Kerr’s previous three seasons.

Stephen Curry, who dealt with repeated ankle sprains and a sprained knee, was limited to 51 games. Durant, Klay Thompson, Draymond Green and Andre Iguodala also missed extended time with various ailments.

With the West’s No. 1 seed out of reach, Golden State stumbled into the playoffs having lost 10 of its last 17 games. The Warriors disposed of the Kawhi Leonard-less Spurs and the DeMarcus Cousins-less Pelicans in five games apiece to set up a much-anticipated matchup with Houston in the West finals. Golden State won Game 1, but without an injured Iguodala for Games 4 and 5, lost both and fell into a 3-2 series hole.

Facing elimination, the Warriors still needed to overcome double-digit halftime deficits to win Games 6 and 7 against the Rockets. This, despite Houston missing injured guard Chris Paul.

Though the Warriors swept LeBron James and the Cavaliers, they didn’t put four quarters together until their 108-85 win in Game 4. A Cleveland team widely considered the worst of the four that have faced Golden State in the Finals could have entered that Game 4 with a 2-1 lead if not for J.R. Smith’s mental mistake late in regulation of Game 1 or Durant’s 43-point masterpiece in Game 3.

“This year was pretty crazy in general, with all that we went through with injuries and the struggles throughout the regular season,” Curry said. “Looking at this playoff journey, we knew it wasn't going to be as easy as last year when it comes to our record and things like that.”

The adversity it weathered this season made Golden State savor its latest championship even more. All the criticism over the Warriors’ frequent lapses in focus and urgency hardly matter now that they have cemented themselves as a dynasty.

"Disbelief," general manager Bob Myers said when asked what he thinks of Golden State's newest label. "I grew up here, so I can't really say that word. Honestly, when I hear that, for me a more appropriate reaction is the 49ers."

Stephen Curry

Tested by injury, Zen-like at end

This was not an easy season for Stephen Curry.

Curry’s unflappable demeanor, a certain Zen-like calmness, sets an important tone for the Warriors. He’s the face of the franchise, after all. If Curry doesn’t seem worried, why should any of his teammates fret?

But his pleasant, carefree manner received a stern test this spring. There went the Warriors, slogging to the finish line of a long regular season and springing to life by dispatching San Antonio in their first-round playoff series.

And there sat Curry, watching restlessly on the sideline. He missed 16 of the final 17 regular-season games recovering from ankle and knee injuries. Then he missed the first six playoff games, still trying to strengthen his knee.

Finally, after he returned in Game 2 of the Western Conference semifinals May 1 against New Orleans — and scored 28 points in 27 minutes — teammate Kevin Durant was asked what Curry is like when he can’t play basketball.

“Very anxious,” Durant said, smiling alongside Curry at their joint news conference. “A couple of days ago in practice, he just couldn’t stop running and jumping and making weird noises. So I’m glad he’s back. I was a little worried about him for a second.”

This sparked laughter among the assembled media, but Durant’s observation also highlighted the reality: Curry weathered a strange, bumpy road to his team’s third NBA championship in four seasons.

He played in only 51 regular-season games, the first time since 2011-12 he had appeared in fewer than 78. He sprained his right ankle four times. The last time, on March 8, he missed two weeks before coming back against Atlanta — and JaVale McGee knocked him out again, inadvertently rolling into Curry’s left knee.

Still, he prevailed in the end. Curry cradled the Larry O’Brien Trophy again, in part because he produced several vintage “Steph gonna Steph” playoff games: 35 points in Game 3 of the West finals against Houston; 14 third-quarter points to spark his team’s Game 7 comeback in that series; and 33- and 37-point outbursts in the NBA Finals.

“You just have to have confidence in yourself no matter what,” Curry said after Friday night’s title-clinching win. “Even if you have a bad shooting night or you’re dealing with injuries, whatever the challenge, the confidence in yourself and the people around you can breathe life into you and breathe that confidence into you. That makes it all worth it.”

Curry routinely exuded his familiar poise, offering no signs of frustration over his nagging ankle problems. He increased his production in several categories compared with 2016-17, averaging more points (26.4) and shooting more efficiently from the field (49.8 percent), three-point land (42.3 percent) and the free-throw line (league-best 92.1 percent).

Also worth noting: Curry played only 32 minutes per game in the regular season, his lowest average since his injury-marred 2011-12.

That was the year he ultimately needed surgery No. 2 on his then-chronically troublesome right ankle. Those days have receded into the dustbin of NBA history, replaced by enduring images of Curry making clutch three-pointers and dancing in triumph.

General manager Bob Myers sensed this season’s recurring injuries made Curry appreciate his chance to return, at full strength, for Golden State’s latest stampede to the title.

“For him, I think it was a moment to pause and say, ‘Man, I love playing basketball. And I miss this,’” Myers said. “I think maybe that helped him kind of get back and play as well as he did. He had a great playoffs. …

“There was a period five or six years ago where he had just had his ankle surgery, and I saw him down in L.A. We talked about that after we won the other night. I said, ‘You have to be a leader for this team.’ Neither of us had any sense for what was coming, but he’s certainly been that and more for this whole organization.”

—Ron Kroichick

Kevin Durant

Silent Assassin a picture of consistency

Kevin Durant collects nicknames like most players collect sneakers.

Everyone knows he goes by KD. But do you remember Durantula? Or Velvet Hoop? How about the Slim Reaper? Kid Dynamite? Easy Money Sniper? K-Smoove? The list goes on.

They’re all out there, with a variety of origins and meanings. But after carrying the Warriors to back-to-back titles, winning the Finals MVP both times, I’d add “Silent Assassin” to the list.

Durant’s back-breaking, soul-crushing, three-pointer in Game 3 this year was cold-blooded. If you don’t believe me, just look at KD’s face after the shot. With Draymond Green screaming in his ear and the Cavs essentially vanquished, KD wore the face of a Silent Assassin. It was all business, LeBron. Nothing personal.

If this seems like a familiar story line, that’s understandable. In last year’s Finals, Durant hit an equally devastating three-pointer over James that pushed the Warriors over the top in a Game 3 victory. They won that series in five games.

When big moments arise, Durant has proven he’s up for the challenge. And then some.

It was a fitting end to a season in which there was plenty of drama for the Warriors, mostly self-inflicted. They seemed distracted and uninspired in this fourth straight year of going to the Finals. It felt as if fans and media members waited all season for them to put together four quarters of consistent excellence. Durant made that happen in the very last game.

“Oh, it feels great to go out there and win a championship with these guys, the way we did it. Like Draymond said earlier, it’s the season. It was just an up-and-down season, so many guys got hurt. We were going through so much,” Durant said after winning the title. “To finish it off with a championship, especially in a sweep, it feels so good.”

Durant spoke about how teammate Patrick McCaw’s serious back injury brought the Warriors together. Durant spoke about how much the game meant to him and his desire to continue getting better. He sounded like a man who’d reached the pinnacle, yet wants to keep climbing.

And that’s a scary thought for the rest of the NBA. In his 11th year in the league, Durant painted a picture of consistency. He averaged 26.4 points per game, just a shade under his career average of 27.1. He hit nearly 42 percent of his three-pointers. He dished out six assists and grabbed seven boards a night.

And he did it all with his signature modesty. You won’t see Durant seeking the spotlight or showboating on the court. You’ll just see him fill up the stat sheet, night in and out.

Head coach Steve Kerr once called Durant the “ultimate luxury,” meaning the Warriors essentially picked up a back-up MVP, in case anything happens to Stephen Curry. This June and last, Durant proved he’s no luxury. He’s the ultimate necessity.

In terms of being called the Silent Assassin, Durant probably wouldn’t like that nickname. One of the great street basketball players in the history of the Washington, D.C., area, where KD grew up, was a guy named Jamar Board.

He was a contemporary of Durant’s, and he could play with the best, known for his handle and his left-handed shot. But he didn’t make it out of his rough neighborhood. He was found dead with a gunshot wound to the temple in 2012.

Board’s nickname was “Silent Assassin.” Durant wrote the words “RIP Silent” on his sneakers the night he heard of his friend’s passing.

Durant has paid fitting tribute to the man and the moniker ever since then. He should carry that name forward for both of them.

—Al Saracevic

Klay Thompson

Living his best life as Mr. Chill

Steve Kerr likes to say of Klay Thompson, “Klay isn’t low-maintenance, Klay is no-maintenance.”

But Kerr has no idea what it takes to pamper prima-donna Thompson behind the scenes.

A few years ago, Thompson was in a minor slump and feeling some anxiety. Nobody in the outside world was aware of this because Thompson, even in the most trying of times, doesn’t exactly reek of stress. But his mother knew, and she had a suggestion for her oldest son.

At the time, Klay, like every other basketball player over 3 years old, got his game face on by sitting at his locker and blasting music through his headphones.

Julie Thompson knows how her son is wired. She knows that Klay operates best with his burner set on “chill,” and that music can have the opposite effect.

“Why don’t you try reading a book or a newspaper at your locker before the game?” Mom suggested. “Work a crossword puzzle, whatever.”

It worked beautifully. Reading a newspaper allowed Klay’s mind to take relaxing little side trips. By game time, Thompson was relaxed and focused.

Julie contacted Raymond Ridder, the Warriors’ vice president of communications, who works closely with the players. She told Ridder about the newspaper thing and he promised her he would have a newspaper at Klay’s locker before every game.

That’s a lot of effort and expense, but if that’s what it takes to bring Thompson to the proper chill temp before a game, Ridder and the Warriors gladly pay that price.

They know it would be impossible to replace Klay Thompson. There is no other man in the world with the Klay Combo Plate: Shoot at a phenomenal rate and range, effectively defend the opponent’s most dangerous guard or small forward, resist fatigue and injury, and blend beautifully into the team fabric.

Blending is what Thompson does best. His temperament and personality make him a true NBA oddity. This is a league built on simmering feuds, animosities, jealousies, hyper-sensitivity, theatrical swagger and bluster, chest-pounding and self-promotion.

Thompson didn’t get the memo. He is Klay in Accounting, showing up every morning, five minutes early, with a fresh pen in his pocket protector.

Not that Thompson isn’t cool. The secret to being cool, of course, is not trying to be cool, and Klay’s got that down.

The Warriors, as their success grows, are a magnet for jealousy and dislike. Steph Curry probably gets trolled more for chomping on his mouthpiece than any president ever got for his foreign policy.

But nobody dislikes Klay. The other players in the league respect him for his clean, businesslike approach to the game, as well as his near-genius level of shooting and defending. Fans of opposing teams can try to dislike Thompson, but there’s just nothing there to hang your hat on, other than that he kills your team.

I’m not saying there aren’t other super-likable guys in the NBA, but if they gave a trophy for MLD (Most Likable Dude), it would be a very short ballot, and Thompson would probably win, though he would not campaign. And at the ceremony, he’d let his bulldog, Rocco, accept the trophy for him.

Of course you know of Rocco, Klay’s constant companion. Some people claim to have a spirit animal. Klay is Rocco’s spirit human.

In all this talk about Thompson’s Zen approach to life and basketball, it should not be overlooked that he can play.

In this, his seventh season, Thompson had his fourth straight year averaging at least 20 points and registered a career best in three-point shooting percentage (44.0).

In the Finals against Cleveland, Thompson suffered a high ankle sprain in Game 1 when J.R. Smith rolled into his leg. The next day, Thompson had an extreme limp. To the shock of his teammates who saw the swelling on the ankle, he played Game 2 — 34 minutes, 20 points.

Since Kevin Durant’s arrival in 2016, Thompson has settled into a fourth-banana role on the star-studded team, behind Durant, Curry and Draymond Green. But that superficial status doesn’t do justice to Thompson’s importance to the Warriors.

He is their rock, their calm center. And if they need help with a crossword puzzle, Thompson is their go-to guy.

—Scott Ostler

Draymond Green

The Preacher spread Warriors' gospel

NBA players can get awfully tired of the postgame media sessions during the playoffs. Familiar, predictable questions come forth, and the majority of stars go through the verbal motions, anxious to just leave the podium and head into the night.

Draymond Green rarely looks too thrilled by the process, but he has become the Warriors’ prince of perspective. Viewed by outsiders as a borderline psychotic on the court, with his angry gestures, trash-talking and endless squabbles with the officials, Green is known among the Warriors’ cognoscenti as The Preacher.

Inside the locker room, his pointed speeches get the team fired up. In the heat of competition, he’s a coach and an agitator and a spark plug all at once. Whatever needs to be addressed, he speaks up — often at oppressive volume, never wary of hurting someone’s feelings.

And when the game is over, and the media people probe the performances of Stephen Curry, Kevin Durant or Klay Thompson, Green invariably gives a thoughtful, revealing answer. Not because he’s trying to accommodate. Because he believes so deeply in his teammates and the Warriors’ all-for-one concept, he loves to put the performances into words.

As we witnessed Green in that voice-of-reason mode throughout the postseason, we saw the continuing evolution of the Warriors’ spiritual leader. Just two seasons ago, he let his on-court emotions spin out of control, physically abusing opponents and badgering the refs until he drew a technical foul, or a flagrant, or a little of both. It became a spirit-crushing disaster when he was suspended for Game 5 of the Finals against Cleveland, a series that turned against Golden State from the moment the NBA’s ruling came down.

In that sense, Green is nowhere near reformed. He’s still capable of throwing a gaudy temper tantrum at any time, persisting in his rage even as teammates try to guide him away. Still, there is progress. Early in the season, respected teammate David West said he spotted a change, sensing that Green had come to realize how over-the-top behavior hurts the team.

At the same time, Green, who averaged 11 points, 7.6 rebounds and 7.3 assists in his sixth season, has an invaluable ally in head coach Steve Kerr. At times when some coaches would banish a temperamental player to the bench for a spell, Kerr is more likely to offer a few choice words and send Green back into the fray. Their most forceful clashes — rare, but reportedly on the verge of mayhem — take place behind the scenes.

“We’re not a crazy group, and you need a little crazy,” Kerr said. “That conflict — between Draymond and me, Draymond and the opponent, Draymond and the ref, Draymond and the world — gives us our edge.”

Oddly, it was during that one ill-fated season in the Kerr era (2015-16) that Green truly defined his value. The Warriors set a record of 73 wins in the regular season, and longtime NBA observers have called it the greatest, most gloriously sustained brand of entertainment they’ve ever witnessed. Unlike these past two seasons, when the Warriors picked their spots, they went all-out for every victory, refusing to relent for even one game. That was all about Green, as his teammates well know.

“There are days when you just don’t have it in games or practices, and he’s the one who picks us up, especially that season,” Curry said. “Sometimes your body is catching up to you and you’re just tired. But he has it every night and every practice.”

Marveling at the emotional contrast between Curry and Green, general manager Bob Myers delivered one of his best lines in an interview with si.com. “It’s the mellow lead singer,” he said, “and the guitarist jumping into the crowd.”

The Preacher in the mosh pit. There’s an image for fans to carry through the summer.

—Bruce Jenkins

Andre Iguodala

Organizer, babysitter, leader

Rare is the sports star who is described in terms of someone you might seek on Craigslist.

But that’s Andre Iguodala. The Warriors forward is alternately described as an “organizer” or the team’s “babysitter.”

Iguodala doesn’t get the love or pub that the other four members of the “Hamptons 5” receive. He hasn’t been an All-Star since 2012. He doesn’t rack up eye-popping numbers or jump out of the box score. He’s not particularly demonstrative on court.

But the 34-year old is simply the stealth key to everything.

“It’s another coach,” head coach Steve Kerr said during the playoffs. “He’s one of the smartest basketball minds I’ve ever been around.”

The revisionist narrative is that if the Rockets’ Chris Paul had been healthy, the Warriors might not have made it to the NBA Finals and won another trophy. The revision of the revisionist narrative is that if Iguodala had been healthy, the Rockets might have been eliminated in five games.

The Warriors firmly believe that.

In Game 3 of the Western Conference finals, Iguodala banged knees with James Harden. Though Iguodala stayed in that game — a 126-85 Warriors win, in which he had a plus-26 rating — he missed the next six. No Iguodala for Games 4 through 7 of the conference finals or the first two games of the NBA Finals. Would LeBron James have scored 51 points if Iguodala had played in Game 1? Unlikely.

Fans who think that the NBA revolves around the glorious sun that is the Warriors might be surprised to learn that Iguodala’s arrival in 2013 was a franchise turning point. The laughingstock Warriors could not land a decent free agent until they convinced Iguodala to come on board as part of a sign-and-trade deal that also unloaded Andris Biedrins. It was Bob Myers’ first big coup as general manager.

Iguodala had been impressed with the young players who’d defeated his Denver Nuggets in the playoffs. But he sensed they were missing a Yoda.

A babysitter.

So he joined Golden State.

“Andre is one of the guys who sets the tone for us,” Kerr said. “He’s one of our glue guys, one of the smartest players I’ve ever been around at both ends of the floor. He ties things together. He closes up some holes, he fills in the blanks, however you want to put it.”

You could sense the Warriors’ late-game dishevelment without him in Houston in Game 5. You could see what he was doing on the bench, in street clothes, pulling players aside to have a word in Games 6 and 7. And, back on the court in Game 3 of the NBA Finals, you could see his leadership as he walked off the court with his arm around Stephen Curry after Curry’s difficult shooting night.

“I let him know that ‘Man, you played a good game,’” said Iguodala, who signed a three-year contract extension last summer. “I just enjoyed the way he kept his composure.”

Iguodala’s hunch was spot on. Those kids who beat him back in the 2013 playoffs ended up being pretty good. They’ve now been to four consecutive NBA Finals and come home with three trophies.

But they wouldn’t have done it without Iguodala.

Babysitting. Organizing. Leading.

He probably could clean out your garage, too, and arrange your closet if he had the time.

—Ann Killion

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