When Klay Thompson and Marcus Capers arrived in Pullman, Wash., as college freshmen in the fall of 2008, both wanted to wear No. 1.

So they played one-on-one for it. In a game to 11, Capers went up 10-4 before getting a cramp. Thompson got the ball, went on a 5-0 run and, on the final possession, recovered a loose ball in the corner and hit a turnaround, fadeaway jumper for the win.

“Bro,” Capers said to his new teammate, “Why are you at Washington State?’”

Saturday night, Washington State will retire Thompson’s No.1 jersey at halftime of its game against Oregon State at Beasley Coliseum. It will be a testament to the three years Thompson spent in Pullman, which he credits for several life-long friendships and his blossoming into a three-time NBA champion and five-time All-Star.

Washington State’s campus, dotted with red brick and gray stone buildings, is perched on a hill overlooking the rolling topography of rural Eastern Washington. Characterized by sprawling wheat fields and not much else, this town of 30,000’s existence depends heavily on the university, with an enrollment nearly equalling the population.

Growing up in the bustling Los Angeles area, Thompson appreciated the remoteness of Pullman. When he arrived on campus as a shy 18-year-old, Thompson found an environment that encouraged him to be himself and work on his craft.

During his three years at Washington State, he became the school’s third all-time leading scorer, set the record with 242 made 3-pointers and, when the Warriors selected him No. 11 overall in the 2011 NBA Draft, became the first Cougar selected in the first round in 30 years.

Now, as the second player in Washington State program history to have his number retired, Thompson is a little less shy and a lot more accomplished. Still, he hasn’t changed that much since his days in Pullman.

When recruits visit Pullman, Washington State’s coaches like to fly them in during the dimly-lit hours early in the morning or late at night. It’s not that they worry about what these teenagers will see in the daylight, but what they won’t.

While schools like UCLA and USC can dazzle recruits with Beverly Hills, steak dinners at Mastro’s and chance celebrity sightings, Washington State has a Denny’s and a bowling alley they can enjoy after a connecting flight to Pullman.

During his official visit, Thompson said two words to assistant coach Ben Johnson and head coach Tony Bennett: Yes, and no. At Denny’s, he only spoke up to order from a syrup-stained menu. When they went bowling, his ball went into the gutter during the first frame.

“I think that’s when the guys thought I definitely wasn’t coming back,” Thompson said.

After Johnson and Bennett dropped Thompson off at the airport, they figured there was no way he would commit. “He hated it,” Johnson told Bennett.

A few days later, Johnson called Thompson’s mom and told her the visit didn’t go well. She said “Are you sure? He’s sitting on his bed right now reading your notes. I think he’s leaning toward you guys. I think he’s leaning toward Washington State.”

Bennett and Johnson used the fact that UCLA and USC didn’t recruit him to appeal to Thompson’s competitive nature. The way they framed it, UCLA had Russell Westbrook, Arizona State had James Harden and USC had DeMar DeRozan. “You can be that for Washington State,” Johnson told Thompson.

Thompson appreciated the chance to compete against the Pac-10 teams he grew up watching at a program without distractions. He had 24-hour access to the gym, where he could work on his jump shot and listen to music. “That’s all I needed,” Thompson said.

It was that textbook jumper that impressed coaches at Washington State and led to one of the most prolific careers in program history. Johnson first saw Thompson during an AAU game in Southern California. Washington State had another guard de-commit and had a scholarship available. Related Articles Giannis Antetokounmpo wins second MVP award; Is an NBA title with Warriors next?

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“He sends me one of the most impassioned emails saying ‘I found The One,’” Bennett said. “He said ‘You have no idea, this kid is so special, he’s such a perfect fit.’”

Bennett’s offense needed a player who could thrive off the ball and make shots from beyond the arc. They believed Thompson could be that player but, when Thompson arrived on campus, they were more impressed with his work habits.

“He has an unbelievable shot,” said former Washington State head coach Ken Bone, who coached Thompson in his last two seasons. “But it doesn’t surprise me because he spent endless hours in the gym working on his shot.”

Teammates would walk into the gym early in the morning or late at night and find Thompson shooting. Capers remembers watching Thompson shoot 52 3-pointers during a workout in which he only missed two. Disappointed, Thompson told Capers he needed to change his routine.

“He was like ‘I can only count it if it’s all net,’” Capers said.

During Thompson’s first year, Bennett used to write an acronym on the locker room white board: WFUD, or Wheat Field Underdog.

In Pullman, there wasn’t much else for Thompson to do but work on his game and bond with his teammates. When he wasn’t hoisting jumpers by himself in the gym, he was making his own fun — whether it was by launching fireworks with Bennett’s children on Fourth of July or marathon sessions of “Mario Kart” with his teammates.

He liked playing at Beasley Coliseum, an arena with a seating capacity of 11,671. However dwarfed by NBA standards, each game was an event that drew a passionate audience in a way that couldn’t have happened in a city like Los Angeles.

“It was fun knowing the college powered the town and really united a community,” Thompson said.

But during holiday breaks, the town would clear out, and Thompson and his teammates would be left on their own, working in isolation to improve their games. For as connected as the team was with the community, they were inevitably insulated.

Thompson was, by far, the team’s best player during his three years. Only one player he played with — Aron Baynes — went on to play in the NBA. That didn’t stop Thompson from encouraging his teammates after a blown assignment or a missed shot.

“He’d be like ‘No, you’re OK, you’re a good shooter. Shoot it again,’” Bone said. “And I’d be thinking ‘No, no, no, come on Klay, don’t be saying that. You need to shoot.’”

In Thompson’s three years, Washington State never made it to the NCAA tournament, nor were they ever ranked in the AP Poll’s top 25.

During his junior year, Washington State was on the tournament bubble and had won two straight conference games heading into the regular-season finale against UCLA. After a win against USC, Thompson was pulled over and cited for marijuana possession. He was suspended for the final game of the season.

Before the game, Thompson, at that point a shy and ashamed 20-year-old, asked the P.A. announcer for the microphone. He apologized to all 11,671 fans at Beasley Coliseum. He felt he had let down his community.

Capers now plays for the National Basketball League of Canada. In June, when the Warriors were in the NBA Finals against the Raptors, Thompson invited Capers and his younger brother to attend Games 1 and 2 in Toronto and hang out.

“My brother was like ‘Man, we’re about to chill with Klay. We’re about to go out, probably see some girls, this and that.’” Capers said. “I was like, ‘Man, it’s going to be more laid back than you think.’

“Klay was like ‘Trying to do it like we used to do in college?’ I was like ‘Yeah.’”

So out came a Nintendo 64 and Super Smash Bros., which they played late into the night.

When the Warriors returned to Oakland for Game 6, Thompson told Capers he’d score 30 points, force a Game 7 and see him again for a Super Smash Bros. rematch in Toronto.

Facing elimination, Thompson had 30 points on 12 shots in 32 minutes when, at the end of the third quarter, Toronto’s Danny Green fouled Thompson on a dunk attempt. Thompson landed awkwardly and grabbed his left knee, writhing on the court in pain as Golden State’s medical staff rushed to his attention. He had torn his ACL, and the Raptors went on to win the Finals.

Shortly after, Capers got a text message from Thompson: “Well, I had 30!”

As a freshman, Capers had wanted to wear No. 1 in honor of Dominique Jones, a popular player from his hometown of Winter Haven, Florida.

Thompson went on to wear No. 11 in Golden State to reflect his draft position, but not before he did enough at Washington State to ensure no Cougar again would wear the No. 1 he earned with a fadeaway jumper from the corner nearly 12 years ago.

Meanwhile, wearing a new number, Capers finished first in Washington State history in games played and went on to become a two-time NBL Canada champion.

“It’s funny because it ended up that I got No. 0,” Capers said. “And everybody in my neighborhood started wearing zero. So it worked out.”