Earlier this year I was walking through downtown Walnut Creek on a beautiful spring day. I was cruising through the outdoor shopping mall with a buddy of mine, enjoying the vibes and chatting it up. Suddenly a giant figure emerged out a chic boutique, with shoulders up to the cloud and arms that were so long I thought it was an alien.
“Oh snap,” I blurted as I stopped in my tracks. “Wassup Big Loon?!”.
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Kevon Looney shot me a warm smile and gave me one of the biggest fist bumps I’d ever absorbed in my life. He sauntered away, trying to keep as low a profile as a human that large could possibly have around regular sized homosapiens. A murmur broke out in the area, everyone walking passed with wide-eyed admiration, excited and wowed to see a champion hooper chilling and shopping on a warm day in the Bay.
Now Looney returns back into Chase Center tonight after departing the Golden State Warriors in the summer, and if Dub Nation has a soul, it should sound like those old Oracle crowds shaking concrete. Not because the Warriors owe him an apology or because they made some catastrophic mistake. But because sometimes a potentially philosophically wise basketball decision still feels wrong in your chest, and when you lose someone who embodies winning as deeply as Looney did, the least you can do is stand up and acknowledge it.
The Warriors apparently didn’t offer Looney a contract this summer. That’s a byproduct of the front office doubling down on where the league is going, not where it’s been. Trayce Jackson-Davis brings vertical pop and defensive range they haven’t had since JaVale McGee. Al Horford adds shooting gravity Looney simply couldn’t replicate. Quinten Post represents the modern prototype: 6’11”, stretch-friendly, pick-and-pop timing. These are strategic pivots, the kind you make when your point guard is 38 and still chasing rings.
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But here’s what the numbers actually say about Looney’s final Warriors season, and why his departure stings more than the front office might admit. Per Cleaning the Glass data, in 2024-25 Looney posted an 87th percentile defensive shooting impact, holding opponents to 2.6% worse eFG% when he played. He held up at the rim (67th percentile), erased long midrange jumpers (85th percentile), and stayed elite on the glass: 93rd percentile in offensive rebounding, 78th percentile defensive. The lineup data agrees. The Warriors were plus-3.8 per 100 over 2,236 possessions with Looney on court. That Curry/Payton/Hield/Kuminga/Looney unit? Plus-24.1 over 112 possessions on a ridiculous 125.9 offensive rating.
I don’t think that is a player who fell off a cliff. Sounds to me like he could still be a viable piece in the right lineups. And let’s not forget the franchise aura this guy has. Looney ranks fifth all-time in Warriors offensive rebounds and tenth all-time in defensive rebound. Those kind of contributions that don’t ring loudly until you try to replace them and discover you can’t.
And that’s before we talk about the screens, the invisible architecture of Warriors basketball. The nothing plays that made everything possible; ask Steph what those picks meant! And on that defensive end ask Draymond how many possessions were saved because Looney rotated early. Ask anyone in that locker room for a decade and they’ll tell you Looney was the one guy who never needed the ball to matter.
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Now maybe the front office knows best. Maybe Post becomes the floor-spacing rim protector they envision. Maybe Jackson-Davis develops into a vertical threat. Maybe Horford’s championship experience compensates for age. But gosh, what Looney provided was certainty. Looney wanted to stay with the only NBA team he’d ever known but the Warriors chose to wait on Jonathan Kuminga’s restricted free agency instead. The clock ran out and Looney chose to do what was best for him and his family. And he never complained. Even when he got benched for Post in the playoffs. Even when the rotation shrank. He just waited, stayed ready, and delivered in Game 7 because that’s what pros do.
Tonight, when Looney steps onto that Chase Center floor in Pelicans colors, we owe him something more than nostalgia. We owe him recognition; yhe kind that makes him stop for a second and feel the love he spent a decade earning. The Warriors made their choice about the future. Looney made his choice about dignity. That both makes sense and hurts.
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Welcome home, Loon. You’ll always be part of this dynasty, whether the roster says it or not.
