The Athletic has live coverage of the 2025 NBA free agency. 

As vital systems go, the spine can be grossly underappreciated. Respected but not celebrated. The supporting role it plays, the way it silently factors in all functionalities, is often overlooked. Until it hurts. Until something doesn’t work.

However, the spine, those who have been exposed to its intrinsic value know, is vital to overall health. It manages balance, enables flexibility. It absorbs shock. It protects the spinal cord, the communication highway between the brain and the rest of the body.

The Golden State Warriors have lost their backbone.

That was Kevon Looney. That’s what he meant by who they were and how they sustained success for so long.

After 10 seasons and three championships with Golden State, who drafted him in 2015, Looney has agreed to a two-year, $16 million deal with the New Orleans Pelicans. Another critical piece yanked from the foundation of the Warriors’ historical tabernacle. Another reminder of how much of their peak is on the other side of the horizon behind them.

Change, and its inevitability, continues to extract its pounds of flesh from Golden State. The Warriors are stubbornly pursuing a familiar glory, one they can still taste. However, they’re increasingly forced to do so with unfamiliar components.

Draymond Green is often regarded as the heart of the Warriors, the epicenter of their passion, keeping their competitive fire alive. That automatically makes Steph Curry the brains of the operation, the source of the brilliance that sparks their greatness. They already lost a lung when Klay Thompson departed for Dallas via free agency in 2024. The spirit of the Warriors dynasty, the pneuma of their culture, wasn’t the same after he left.

And behind them all, especially for the 2022 title that erased all doubt, was Looney. Ever sturdy and immovable.

His departure creates another opportunity to stop and take stock. Appreciate a pillar suddenly removed.

Is Looney replaceable at this point? Sure. The Warriors’ desperate need for a center who can shoot helped make Looney expendable.

A 10-year vet with career averages of 5.0 points, 5.7 rebounds and a half a block per game would seem replaceable.

However, that doesn’t diminish what he did for the franchise for a decade. Anyone who witnessed the Warriors’ dynasty rise and fall, and then resuscitate, knows Looney’s value was innumerable. Winning at the highest levels is as much about the little things. Establishing a championship culture means planting those elements and nurturing them until harvest. And of those little things on which the Warriors are built, Looney was a steward for the highest ones — selflessness, integrity, consistency, humility, resilience.

He earned his spot from the back of the bench, a late-first-round project selected while the franchise was still hungover from the first of the four championships of the era. He didn’t play much early. He overcame two hip surgeries to keep a spot on the roster. The label of “bust” lasted even longer. Any expectation that came with him from UCLA dissipated. When the likes of Kevin Durant, Zaza Pachulia and David West joined the Warriors, Looney became a mentee. He watched closely while quietly developing in the shadows.

In 2018, in a thrilling series against Houston in the Western Conference finals, he became a contributor by holding his own switching onto James Harden.

In 2019, as Durant and Thompson suffered injuries, Looney played through a broken rib cartilage in the playoffs, despite the intense pain that came with every bump and elbow.

In 2020, the Warriors’ lost season that saw them go 15-50, Looney was the veteran in the locker room. With Curry, Thompson and Durant absent, he became a leader and ambassador.

In 2022, when the Warriors needed a boost of toughness and physicality, faced with the daunting challenge of youth, size and athleticism in their opponents, Looney was the answer. Curry, Green and Thompson called for Looney to start in Game 6 against Memphis in the conference semifinals. And he was an anchor even when Green struggled in the NBA Finals against Boston.

In 2023, he helped rebuild the locker room when Green’s punch of Jordan Poole dismantled its chemistry. Then Looney capped the season by owning Sacramento’s Domantas Sabonis in the playoffs.

Looney’s greatest value to the Warriors came in times of desperation. His value was most clear when things went wrong. When times were tough. No. 5 was the one.

Looney was a rock. He had the respect of the greats and the camaraderie of the youngsters, which positioned him as a critical voice in an ever-changing locker room. His locker was next to Jonathan Kuminga for a purpose. Poole, who Looney will be joining in New Orleans, looked up to his Milwaukee OG.

Looney was a model of professionalism. He transitioned from starting center to out of the rotation with professionalism. His mere presence was a “do not whine” sign. It’s hard to complain about minutes, about being glued to the end of the bench, while watching Looney endure it all for the sake of the team.

He never concerned himself with hype. It scarcely came, save for the Warriors fans with advanced basketball IQ who could understand his impact. Part of the reason Looney is leaving is that it’s hard for his impact on winning to translate into contract value. He’s a 6-foot-9 forward who sacrificed agility to bulk up to play center. He’s not explosive. He has shot 18.5 percent from 3 for his career. None of this garners a big payday as a free agent.

The Warriors couldn’t afford to offer him more than the veteran’s minimum without eating into their resources for upgrades. So they did what they usually do — send Looney out into a bear market to see if he could get a better offer. Usually, he couldn’t and came back to the Warriors. The $8 million he made last season was the highest salary of his career.

Staying with the Warriors would have meant a nearly $5 million pay cut. But for the first time in his career, the market valued him more than the Warriors. Looney got paid. An era has ended. The Warriors will have to find a new backbone.

He saw this possibility nearly seven weeks ago, after Game 5 in the Western Conference semifinals, when he last took off his Warriors jersey. Golden State’s season ended with an unceremonious thud, a gentleman’s sweep at the hands of Minnesota, courtesy of a most valuable strained hamstring.

In the visiting locker room after the game, frustration noticeably absent from his face, Looney linked on his necklace and rested the gold medallion over the MSFIT letters across his shirt. He then tied the wrap around his locks, gathered his things and left the locker room. He knew it could have been his last game with the Warriors. Yet no angst could be found. Instead, Looney greeted the uncertainty like an old friend. He smiled as he walked into an unknown future.

“Same s—, different summer,” Looney said in May. “I don’t know. I could be back. But I don’t know. I never know after the last game. I’ve packed all my s— four times.”

No. 5 was the one.

(Top photo of Kevon Looney: Noah Graham / NBAE via Getty Images)