Warriors climb higher in Pacific Division with come-from-behind victory over enemy Suns

Fresh new DNHQ After Dark: Between fading timelines and fifth-ring dreams, the Warriors’ chaos still reminds you that they are must see TV.

Big win. Big win, team. If you haven’t already, check out the end of that clip above. Golden State erased a late deficit to stun Phoenix, spoiling Dillon “The Villain” Brooks’ rise to power against a GSW team emotionally reeling from the trade deadline and injuries to stars.

I’m still digesting everything from the last few days in Warriors news, so bear with me. Golden State’s up-and-down soap opera has turned a once–prime time event into a future 15-part HBO documentary. That Jonathan Kuminga situation was wild, and sometimes you just have to get to HQ to hear from like-minded folks who see it a little clearer than Twitter ever will.

What’s the final verdict on Kuminga’s Warriors career?

I don’t have a ton of people in my real-life circle who give a damn about Kuminga or how he affects Stephen Curry’s legacy. That’s because they don’t see these as the final seasons of a Curry’s legendary run. They look at Curry like a timeless national institution like Heinz Ketchup or The Weather Channel. He’s just accepted as the most magical basketball player who ever lived, even while he’s still fighting for his place in all-time legacy. This season is the story of him giving his absolute best in a snakebitten effort to chase championship number five.

You know who else wants a fifth ring? Draymond Green. And when he defiantly hurled a desperation buzzer-beater to end the third quarter against Phoenix, my eyeballs tracked it the whole way like it was a meteor with intent. A lot of guys wait for the horn so the box score stays clean. Draymond didn’t. He actually tried to make the thing. Missed it, but the attempt mattered. Can’t be scared to try.

That’s kind of how I’ve come to understand the Warriors’ entire two-timeline experiment: honest effort toward an outcome that defied the odds, performed anyway, in public, with full conviction. We kept hearing about how historically teams don’t just win championships and then grow another set of fresh legs to gallop the franchise into future opulence. Even the San Antonio Spurs topped out at five championships before their OG’s knees turned to ash and the franchise entered the barren wasteland of irrelevance that was instrumentally in eventually the beginnings of the current Wemby era.

The Warriors won their titles because they had a major reliance on veteran role players who knew how to let Steph, Klay, and Dray be their best selves. Shaun Livingston, Andre Iguodala, and Andrew Bogut were absolute killers in their roles. Part of that was they immensely sacrificed to ensure the Big 3 successfully took on the responsibility of carrying a championship squad. In retrospect, I feel it may have been unfair to expect an inexperienced and raw James Wiseman to get that feel for that type of situation in a timely fashion for Golden State’s sky high expectations.

But Kuminga? Call me foolish, but I really thought he could fit at some point. I had seen him score the ball too easy and look great in NBA 2K too many times to believe he wasn’t making this franchise better. We haven’t even mentioned other Warriors were shipped out like Trayce Jackson-Davis! He wa solid! Or Buddy Hield who literally saved Golden State’s bacon in the playoffs after detonating on Houston.

With all due respect, I’m gonna stick with the younger guys here though for now Buddy. Because for a minute there, Dub Nation really believed in the next wave. Those youngsters, bless their hearts, became the scapegoats for our deepest roster dreams, playing roles they weren’t born to play. Starring James Wiseman as the next David Robinson. Jonathan Kuminga as Scottie Pippen with better burst. Jordan Poole as the joyful chaos agent who somehow held it all together. And when the vets came back to win it all in 2022, it raised a question that still hangs in the rafters: was that the greatest late-stage dynasty championship of the last 20 years, or the last great act before the window quietly closed?

That tension was everywhere around the trade deadline. I was in Chase Center on Tuesday night, when Draymond’s name was bouncing around rumor-mill conversations like loose change. People were saying it plainly: If Dray gotta go, then I guess Dray gotta go. No poetry, nor any nostalgia. Just cold, cruel asset math. My barber went on an extended pontification about Dray’s career as if he was providing a eulogy while edging up my hairline.

And I remember thinking how strange it was that being Steph Curry’s running mate for the entire modern standard of basketball could suddenly feel so… negotiable. Maybe that’s what erosion looks like. Not a collapse; just the slow permission people give themselves to imagine you gone. I had never heard Dray talk like this candid assessment of the chatter around him being banished from the Golden Empire in a trade package:

Right before warmups, there was a beat where the team ran out and Draymond wasn’t with them. It felt longer than it probably was. Long enough for me to refresh my phone and half-expect a Shams notification involving Milwaukee, or literally anywhere else.

Then he jogged out. Same swagger. Same edge! And the crowd responded warmly, like seeing a coworker who was awaiting news about losing his job cockily strutting into the break room at lunch and ribbing you with a relentless presence. The laughter from the room feels like relief disguised as enjoyment. The vibe I felt at the game was that nobody really wanted Draymond gone once they saw him out there jogging in place trying to pump up his teammates.

At the time I wondered if this would be the last time I ever saw Green in a Warriors jersey, and how annoyed I was that it couldn’t be against Joel Embiid who missed the contest. The Dubs took the L that night, sure. But a couple nights later, the Warriors gutted out that aforementioned improbable win in Phoenix without Steph or Jimmy Butler.

So when Draymond launched that absurd 60-footer against the Suns, I smiled because it was him. Pulling a Steph without Steph. Choosing audacity over self-preservation. A loud, crooked reminder that this dynasty, however close it is to the end, still refuses to go quietly, or carefully, or without a little chaos on the way out.

Wouldn’t be the Warriors we know and love without some chaos! Nice to see you’re still here Dray. I can’t wait to see the results of this next poll, have a great Super Bowl weekend folks.