yes another KD thread this article has some good details in it
After years of pledging loyalty, Kevin Durant finds the exit in OKC
After years of pledging loyalty, Kevin Durant finds the exit in OKC
OKLAHOMA CITY -- On June 15, 2015, Kevin Durant was in a walking boot, watching the NBA Finals, thinking about the upcoming season.
He had just met newly hired coach Billy Donovan. He was pushing through rehab and edging closer to returning to the court. He was fired up.
"It's our year next year!" he said.
He sent another.
"Then Ima sign back and build a sick ass house and keep stacking chips!! That's [the] goal."
He was going to stay. He was going to plant his flag. He was going to finish what he started. Anyone who was around the team saw Donovan's hiring as the start of a new era, a fresh start and the first step in retaining their franchise player. Durant felt it, too.
Rehabbing his foot in Oklahoma City meant Durant spent a lot of time around Donovan. That's all it took. Durant was enthusiastic about Donovan's arrival and the new direction he represented.
Durant went about his usual business of ingraining himself even more into the community. He restored basketball courts at elementary schools. He donated significant money to inner-city school programs. He was inducted into the state's Hall of Fame to stand alongside the likes of Will Rogers and Gene Autry.
On July 4, 2016, Durant agreed to join the Golden State Warriors, leaving behind the only franchise he's ever known.
What changed?
To listen to Durant talk over the past eight years, leaving Oklahoma City seemed unlikely. Leaving for the Warriors -- a team that eliminated the Thunder in the Western Conference finals and had just won a record-73 regular-season games -- seemed even more improbable. Professional athletes say things, though, and as those close to Durant often say, he has a bad habit of telling people what he thinks they wanted to hear.
At his MVP speech in 2014, Durant galvanized Oklahoma City. "You get knocked down, but you keep getting back up, keep fighting, it's the perfect place for me," he said. "The grass isn't always greener somewhere else." As road writers baited for compliments about their city, Durant affectionately referred to Oklahoma City as home. He said he wanted to have his jersey retired there.
Even on the topic of ring chasing, Durant wasn't moved by the need for a championship to validate greatness.
"Our world revolves around championships," he said in a recent Sports Illustrated feature. "Who won the championship? Who will win the championship? If you're not the champion, you're a loser. If you're not first, you're last.
"Don't get me wrong, I want to win a championship more than anybody, but if you go through the journey we've gone through, you can also appreciate other things."
Durant repeated a phrase often: "I'm no frontrunner."
The question many are asking in the aftermath of Durant's decision is whether he was simply placating to the media, or whether he was persuaded by Golden State's irresistible allure of championship success.
The Thunder tried to sell a legacy bigger than basketball. The Warriors pitched Durant on a dynasty -- a promise of dominance unknown to the NBA -- and the opportunity to maximize the amount of fun he could have along the way. Ultimately, that was too much for Durant to turn down.
In some ways, it's ironic that two of the key figures tasked with recruiting Durant were Tom Brady and Jerry West -- sports icons identified with one team. To the Thunder, and to Oklahoma City, Durant wasn't just Tom Brady: He was Tom Brady, Larry Bird and Ted Williams all wrapped into one.
But Durant's inner circle had bought the Warriors' message. They begged him to leave. Oklahoma City's pitch wasn't resonating. Not anymore, at least.
On Sunday morning, Durant and his personal security guard took off on bicycles to ride around the sunny beaches of the Hamptons. Wearing a shirt with Kurt Cobain on it, Durant rode with a song playing -- Logic's "44 Bars."
The whole setup in the Hamptons was what you'd expect of for a superstar athlete vacationing there on July 4. It was a mansion on a sprawling acreage, too many rooms to count, immaculate interior decorating.
With a meeting with the Miami Heat on tap and a final last word for the Thunder coming later that afternoon, Durant was already closing in on his decision. He had spoken with West the day before, and he wasn't just leaning anymore. He was pretty much there.
"It's kind of funny how life changed and rearranged," the song went. "No matter what happens, everything ain't gon' be the same."
Thunder general manager Sam Presti could see the writing on the wall when he walked out of the swanky house on Sunday afternoon. The entire Thunder contingent could read what was happening in front of them. Even with the white-rimmed designed glasses and perfectly coiffed hair, Presti is unflappable.
He's resolved. He's a New Englander, born in Concord, Massachusetts, and a product of Emerson College. He carries himself with a quiet, steely confidence. He remained calm and even-keeled throughout the entire process, assured that the Thunder had already done their part to re-sign Durant. Other teams were recruiting him for two hours. They'd been doing it for nine years. It was just up to him to see that.
The Warriors were the clear and present danger, and with pressure pulling at Durant, tugging at a desire to supposedly validate his career with a title, the Thunder could see their franchise player slipping away.
Three days before, the Thunder had made their initial pitch to Durant, a meeting that lasted five hours and had the organization optimistic about their chances of keeping him. Presti and assistant general manager Troy Weaver met Durant at the front doors of Chesapeake Energy Arena with a massive banner across the street: "Taking on Tomorrow -- Today."
They shook hands and hugged, and the duo not-so-subtly tried to usher Durant through the door with his picture hanging overhead. An obvious symbolic message -- this is your building, your franchise. Durant walked in through the door next to it, under Steven Adams' picture.
Fellow "founding fathers" Russell Westbrook and Nick Collison had met with Durant prior to that, having dinner with him. They tried to reinforce how important staying together is, how they are on the verge of something truly special. Westbrook largely led the charge.
The Thunder had hoped they could sway Durant to drop his planned meetings in the Hamptons and agree long-term on the spot. They came armed with the idea of chasing big man Al Horford, believing if Durant would commit, they could be on the phone with Horford and his agent at midnight to start lining up a deal. Presti knew the Thunder weren't landing Horford without Durant standing by his side; and he feared the opposite. Durant was unwilling.
He left through a backdoor of the arena and was off to the Hamptons in a private jet.
But there was always concern of Durant being persuaded -- that outside forces would sway him. Those close to him talk about how he's impressionable and impulsive, and the moment Durant agreed to meetings in the Hamptons, his future hung in the balance. In reality, he had one foot out the door.
Even up until the final moments before Durant started informing teams of his decision, the Thunder hoped he would change his mind. Eight Thunder staffers, plus owner Clay Bennett, went to the Hamptons and met with Durant around 3 p.m. They weren't all front-office executives. They were the people Durant worked with every day, from trainers, to equipment mangers, to support staff, to public relations.
The buzz was building, the noise was growing. Every whisper had Durant heading to the Bay Area, but the Thunder wanted to believe he'd come back.
Like Presti said Monday in the aftermath, there was an indication that it wasn't going to go their way. But they stayed anyway. They'd been at everything for Durant the past nine years -- his college jersey retirement, promotional appearances, surgeries, his MVP speech, charity events -- everything. They were going to be here for this, too.
They didn't have anywhere to stay, and with the Fourth of July weekend a hectic time in the Hamptons, lodging was hard to come by. So the Thunder holed up at a Holiday Inn Express, located one mile away from Durant's compound, and waited.
There were only six rooms available for nine people, so they shared. Clay Bennett, a multimillion-dollar owner, in a Holiday Inn Express, sharing a bed. Nothing was open, so they settled on a T.G.I. Friday's for a late dinner.
And then they waited for the inevitable.