For all its advancements, from athlete autonomy down to the way the game itself gets played, the NBA hasn’t managed to solve one of its most nagging longevity problems: that all dynasties are destined to fall apart.
Maybe it’s their inherent weight. That a handful of stars stuck together force an unstable gravity not meant to last. Maybe it’s the strain that every relationship faces — but sped up in the NBA uniquely accelerated time signature — as time goes by and people, their circumstance, change. It could be egos, or the financial practicalities of keeping an expensive roster together; it might be because of duelling timelines and the reality that no matter how good, no team at this level can put off development of future rosters forever.
Whatever it was for dynasties of the past, now dusted, it’s a combination of everything for these current Warriors.
Whether you viewed it as a culture loss or reset, Klay Thompson’s departure to the Mavericks was the first chip in this Golden State dynasty’s foundation. Certainly, Thompson’s absence meant more room for next-gen talent of Jonathan Kuminga and Brandin Podziemski to flourish on the floor. It also forced a twosome in leadership between Steph Curry and Draymond Green, versus the triangular model the former Splash Brother lent, though Curry’s shouldered more of the directional responsibilities this season and the strain is beginning to show.
Despite the long roster Steve Kerr is using, out of necessity and likely in the hopes of creating some sustainable depth, Curry isn’t feeling the benefits. Shooters, even those as prolific as him, need rhythm, consistency. All the changes in lineups as Kerr searches for an offensive spark or two from the bench have left Curry playing the role of directional rudder for the team, which leaves him less time to work as masterful scorer and evenhanded playmaker. The Warriors sit 14th overall in their offensive rating this season.
The Dubs are faring better defensively — 4th out of 30 — largely because of the stellar start Green’s been having. Green gets a lot of criticism for torpedoing his team at the worst possible moments, and a lot of it’s founded, but he doesn’t get nearly enough credit for holding things together when the Warriors hit a rough patch or, more likely these last few seasons, a latent identity crisis.
For seasons the Warriors stalled on internal development despite loading up on developmental-focused coaches like Kenny Atkinson, Jama Mahlalela and the late Dejan Milojevic to work with Kuminga, James Wiseman and others. The goal was to develop while still competing with the Warriors trusted core. Development is a tall task even when it’s the sole focus of a team, it becomes even more challenging when attention, or team trajectories, are split. Golden State can’t entirely be blamed for thinking itself a perennial contender with all the skill, talent and titles it accumulated. But the result of half-focuses forward-thinking, without hanging onto key role-players who supported the team’s stars, is what we’ve seen on the floor last season — a disjointed, at times strained lineup that is thin on options.
It’s not all doom and gloom. Kuminga, starting in a handful of games as Green opts to come off the bench for the sake of his team’s searching, has looked confident. He’s getting threes up more frequently (7.3 attempts per 100 possessions) and is better at hunting for looks than he has been in seasons past. Podziemski, even with couple rotational snafus, is learning. If the team can sort out a reliable set of rotations it will help with Kerr’s concerns of wear and tear and give Curry some needed rhythm, and when he and Green are together on the floor they are still one of the league’s most elite duos.
Still, a recent postgame answer from Curry, though he was talking about Kerr’s experimental rotations, reads a bit like an oracle when applied to the future of the team — and their dynastic destiny: “Who knows how long it’ll last? Who knows if it’s one game, five — who knows? Every day is us trying to figure it out.”
