We've SWEPT the 3-1 jokes away, NOW WE SMELL LIKE CHAMPAGNE AGAIN(OFFICIAL WARRIORS 18-19 THREAD)
- Thread starter OaklandCertified
- Start date
JaVale tales: The Warriors' favorite JaVale McGee memories...
I hope he has a great season (just not against us).
JaVale tales: The Warriors' favorite JaVale McGee memories from his two seasons in Oakland
Anthony Slater Oct 11, 2018
Andre Iguodala first pitched the JaVale McGee idea to the Warriors' decision makers in the summer of 2015. JaVale had spent the prior season either injured or unproductive in Denver and then Philadelphia. His NBA reputation was sinking. The Warriors balked.
"Everybody said no and thought I was crazy," Iguodala recalled.
Then the Finals flameout happened, a 73-win season ending in despair, in part, because of the failures at the Warriors' center spot. Andrew Bogut's body failed. Festus Ezeli and Anderson Varejão ... um ... didn't fill in capably.
So that summer, after the Kevin Durant signing gave them little financial wiggle room, Iguodala pitched the Warriors on the JaVale idea again, a cheap big with upside, Iguodala felt.
"The opportunity came back and I was like, 'C'mon, give this guy a shot,'" Iguodala said this week. "And more than anything, I'm like, 'Yo, this is a good dude. I played with him in Denver. He's gonna fit right in. We're going to enjoy him as a person.'"
That summer, the Warriors first signed Zaza Pachulia and David West for center stability. They brought Varejão back. They drafted young Damian Jones. There didn't seem to be room.
But McGee, fresh off a nothing season in Dallas, couldn't find a guaranteed job. He was still sitting out there in early September. Iguodala's valued opinion had been correct before. So why not? The risk was low. They extended JaVale a training camp invite.
"Gave him a non-guarantee," Iguodala said. "The rest is history."
For two title-winning seasons, playing in short, often effective bursts, JaVale lob-dunked his way into Warriors lore, a pogo stick fan favorite who dunked 232 times, entertained Oracle Arena with his quirky ways, spawned the creation of rat tail headbands and left town with an improved reputation and a great new job.
"It was the perfect marriage, really, because he gave us something that we didn't have; that lob threat and the speed," Steve Kerr said this week. "And I think we really helped him turn his career around."
JaVale is with the Lakers now, the unquestioned starting center for a playoff contender. He's an opponent, one the Warriors see regularly, including twice this week. But mention his name to any of them and their minds quickly flashback to JaVale the teammate and all the entertainment that comes with that. The Athletic gathered a few of their favorite JaVale tales this week.
So let's start back at the beginning, during training camp 2016, when McGee showed up at the first practice and afterward claimed he blocked so many shots he lost count.
"Probably six or seven," McGee said then.
Truth is, JaVale really did make an immediate impression. The coaches quickly knew he could be of use. He made the team and hopped Jones and Varejão in the center pecking order.
But he still hadn't built much equity within the franchise. By November, they were still in the get-to-know-you phase. That's when Steph Curry hosted that famed "Super Villains" party at his house during an off-day.
The signature pictures from that affair came from high in the sky, looking down on the Warriors and their "SUPER VILLAINS" balloon set up. They were snapped by JaVale's drones, the drones he loved flying around everywhere.
"Oh, man, the drones," Kevon Looney remembered with a laugh. "Forgot about the drones."
But McGee was still perfecting his drone-navigation skills. That day, it went a bit haywire. On its descent, the drone nearly went crashing into Ryan Curry, Steph's then 1-year-old daughter.
"You can't hit Steph's people or you're going to get cut or something," Looney said.
The drone avoided Ryan. Disaster averted. JaVale stuck around.
During his second camp with the Warriors, the team went to China in the preseason. The flight was direct, about a 12-hour ride from Oakland to Shenzhen. The luxury jet had two stories. The players were on the top floor.
That's when Klay Thompson, early in the ride, noticed JaVale deep in concentration on a Garage Band-type program, making beats.
"I knew he was into music," Thompson recalled. "Just didn't know he was that into music."
So Thompson, a curious mind with strange hobbies, just like JaVale, slid over and began to ask questions. For nearly the entire ride, Klay watched as JaVale tried to bring an album to life. He was fascinated.
"Showed me music for about 10 hours," Klay said. "Well, maybe it was like eight. But it was cool. I got to see the project before it came out."
Soon after, McGee started production on a music video for one of his songs. In need of resources to make it really pop, JaVale enlisted Curry, one of his more loaded teammates.
"My favorite JaVale memory was when he used my car for one of his music videos," Curry said.
Which music video?
"Gotta do your homework on that one," Curry said.
Which car?
"Gotta do your homework on that one," Curry said.
The video is below. There's a sweet-looking old school convertible and a modern looking Jeep. One of them is Curry's.
"I'll call myself an executive producer for my little part in it," Curry said.
During that first season with the Warriors, JaVale made quick friends with most of his teammates. That included Ian Clark, the easygoing backup guard he often sat beside on the bench. They developed a pregame routine, a choreographed dance in introductions every time the fireworks went off.
"Then Ian left the second year and JaVale was still doing it by himself like Ian was still there," Shaun Livingston said, laughing. "We knew what he was doing, but it was like, 'This dude ... ' Only JaVale."
At his previous career stops, often on losing, bickering teams, McGee didn't always get along with the coaching staff. But with the Warriors, he grew to respect Kerr because, as JaVale would often say, no matter if Kerr was using him, benching him or deactivating him entirely, there was always a constant line of communication, which is vital to a role player getting inconsistent minutes.
Kerr was also the first coach to really embrace JaVale's intricacies.
"He was just really an interesting guy, always looking to do different things," Kerr said. "He had his drones, interesting hobbies, very, very bright guy. Sort of an out-of-the-box thinker."
Kerr's favorite JaVale story came in Boston, early last season. Assistant coach Ron Adams had the Celtics scout, his notes scribbled on the whiteboard in the locker room. But Kerr noticed something strange.
"I look at the board and there's this word that I've never heard of," Kerr said. "I may get it wrong. It's called pleonasm. P-L-E-O-N-A-S-M."
Hmm, that's strange, Kerr thought.
"I see it up there and kind of see a couple guys snicker," Kerr said. "Ron didn't notice it. I'm like 'Pleanasm? What the hell is that? How the hell did that get up there?' I could see Andre chuckling."
So after Adams was done with his detailed pregame report, Kerr went over to Iguodala.
"What's up with the laughter?" Kerr asked.
"Did you see the board?" Andre said.
"Yeah," Kerr said.
"Ask JaVale," Andre said.
"So I went over to JaVale and he had a big grin on his face," Kerr said. "I asked him if he wrote it up there, he said, 'Maybe.' I asked 'What's it mean?' He says: 'Look it up.'"
Kerr did.
"The definition is basically sort of droning on and on when maybe fewer words would suffice," Kerr said. "I might not have looked it up. I think he just told me the definition. Then I said: 'Any chance that's related to Ron's scouting report?' He's like: 'Maybe.' We started laughing."
A running joke was born.
"From then on, JaVale and I would always use the word pleonasm with each other," Kerr said. "Maybe we're in a meeting and someone talks for a long time, I'd go over to JaVale and say: 'Pleonasm going on' and he'd say, 'No question.'"
But not everyone's favorite JaVale story came off the court. Mike Brown's favorite memory came from something on the court. Remember the 2017 playoffs, when Kerr had to take a leave of absence for health reasons? Brown stepped in for Game 3 in Portland, feeling the immediate pressure as the Blazers blasted ahead by 17.
The Warriors coaching staff never liked to play McGee more than about 12 minutes a game, usually in two six-minute bursts per half, feeling that, if played longer, he'd often tire, losing energy and defensive focus, allowing his flaws to be exposed more easily.
But JaVale was having a really good series against the Blazers. In four games, he totaled 39 points in 49 minutes on 19-of-23 shooting. So in that Game 3, Brown, sitting in the captain's chair for the first time all season, decided to make a rare rotation tweak, putting JaVale back out there for a second time in the second half. It paid off. McGee was a catalyst in the comeback win.
"Both ends of the floor," Brown remembered. "He was scoring or helping guys score with his threat as a rim runner. Then defensively, he was making things tough for everybody. Might not be a funny moment, but that was my proudest moment."
When approached for this story, Iguodala initially shied away. He's protective of JaVale and very skeptical of anyone trying to paint him in a goofy light. He knows McGee to be quirky, but very sharp and misunderstood.
"I ain't giving you no bad stories," Iguodala said. "Juglife water. How about that? Making sure people have clean water."
While teammates in Denver, Iguodala would regularly see JaVale rolling around with a jug of water, lecturing people on the health benefits of getting your gallon per day. Years later, with the Warriors' shine propping him up, JaVale used that as a marketing tool for philanthropy.
He created Juglife, a company that raised funds to promote and aid people in getting and consuming clean water. He's held his annual charity softball event at the Coliseum the past couple years. Iguodala won the MVP one year. He still has the trophy, a massive bronze glove, planted in his locker.
"He's from Flint, too," Iguodala said of the Michigan city where there is currently a water crisis. "Crazy how that worked out. Then JaVale went over to Africa, working on getting the water situation in a better place. I want to go over there with him, do some stuff with him. He's got a big heart, man. A big heart."
Anthony Slater Oct 11, 2018
Andre Iguodala first pitched the JaVale McGee idea to the Warriors' decision makers in the summer of 2015. JaVale had spent the prior season either injured or unproductive in Denver and then Philadelphia. His NBA reputation was sinking. The Warriors balked.
"Everybody said no and thought I was crazy," Iguodala recalled.
Then the Finals flameout happened, a 73-win season ending in despair, in part, because of the failures at the Warriors' center spot. Andrew Bogut's body failed. Festus Ezeli and Anderson Varejão ... um ... didn't fill in capably.
So that summer, after the Kevin Durant signing gave them little financial wiggle room, Iguodala pitched the Warriors on the JaVale idea again, a cheap big with upside, Iguodala felt.
"The opportunity came back and I was like, 'C'mon, give this guy a shot,'" Iguodala said this week. "And more than anything, I'm like, 'Yo, this is a good dude. I played with him in Denver. He's gonna fit right in. We're going to enjoy him as a person.'"
That summer, the Warriors first signed Zaza Pachulia and David West for center stability. They brought Varejão back. They drafted young Damian Jones. There didn't seem to be room.
But McGee, fresh off a nothing season in Dallas, couldn't find a guaranteed job. He was still sitting out there in early September. Iguodala's valued opinion had been correct before. So why not? The risk was low. They extended JaVale a training camp invite.
"Gave him a non-guarantee," Iguodala said. "The rest is history."
For two title-winning seasons, playing in short, often effective bursts, JaVale lob-dunked his way into Warriors lore, a pogo stick fan favorite who dunked 232 times, entertained Oracle Arena with his quirky ways, spawned the creation of rat tail headbands and left town with an improved reputation and a great new job.
"It was the perfect marriage, really, because he gave us something that we didn't have; that lob threat and the speed," Steve Kerr said this week. "And I think we really helped him turn his career around."
JaVale is with the Lakers now, the unquestioned starting center for a playoff contender. He's an opponent, one the Warriors see regularly, including twice this week. But mention his name to any of them and their minds quickly flashback to JaVale the teammate and all the entertainment that comes with that. The Athletic gathered a few of their favorite JaVale tales this week.
So let's start back at the beginning, during training camp 2016, when McGee showed up at the first practice and afterward claimed he blocked so many shots he lost count.
"Probably six or seven," McGee said then.
Truth is, JaVale really did make an immediate impression. The coaches quickly knew he could be of use. He made the team and hopped Jones and Varejão in the center pecking order.
But he still hadn't built much equity within the franchise. By November, they were still in the get-to-know-you phase. That's when Steph Curry hosted that famed "Super Villains" party at his house during an off-day.
The signature pictures from that affair came from high in the sky, looking down on the Warriors and their "SUPER VILLAINS" balloon set up. They were snapped by JaVale's drones, the drones he loved flying around everywhere.
"Oh, man, the drones," Kevon Looney remembered with a laugh. "Forgot about the drones."
But McGee was still perfecting his drone-navigation skills. That day, it went a bit haywire. On its descent, the drone nearly went crashing into Ryan Curry, Steph's then 1-year-old daughter.
"You can't hit Steph's people or you're going to get cut or something," Looney said.
The drone avoided Ryan. Disaster averted. JaVale stuck around.
During his second camp with the Warriors, the team went to China in the preseason. The flight was direct, about a 12-hour ride from Oakland to Shenzhen. The luxury jet had two stories. The players were on the top floor.
That's when Klay Thompson, early in the ride, noticed JaVale deep in concentration on a Garage Band-type program, making beats.
"I knew he was into music," Thompson recalled. "Just didn't know he was that into music."
So Thompson, a curious mind with strange hobbies, just like JaVale, slid over and began to ask questions. For nearly the entire ride, Klay watched as JaVale tried to bring an album to life. He was fascinated.
"Showed me music for about 10 hours," Klay said. "Well, maybe it was like eight. But it was cool. I got to see the project before it came out."
Soon after, McGee started production on a music video for one of his songs. In need of resources to make it really pop, JaVale enlisted Curry, one of his more loaded teammates.
"My favorite JaVale memory was when he used my car for one of his music videos," Curry said.
Which music video?
"Gotta do your homework on that one," Curry said.
Which car?
"Gotta do your homework on that one," Curry said.
The video is below. There's a sweet-looking old school convertible and a modern looking Jeep. One of them is Curry's.
"I'll call myself an executive producer for my little part in it," Curry said.
During that first season with the Warriors, JaVale made quick friends with most of his teammates. That included Ian Clark, the easygoing backup guard he often sat beside on the bench. They developed a pregame routine, a choreographed dance in introductions every time the fireworks went off.
"Then Ian left the second year and JaVale was still doing it by himself like Ian was still there," Shaun Livingston said, laughing. "We knew what he was doing, but it was like, 'This dude ... ' Only JaVale."
At his previous career stops, often on losing, bickering teams, McGee didn't always get along with the coaching staff. But with the Warriors, he grew to respect Kerr because, as JaVale would often say, no matter if Kerr was using him, benching him or deactivating him entirely, there was always a constant line of communication, which is vital to a role player getting inconsistent minutes.
Kerr was also the first coach to really embrace JaVale's intricacies.
"He was just really an interesting guy, always looking to do different things," Kerr said. "He had his drones, interesting hobbies, very, very bright guy. Sort of an out-of-the-box thinker."
Kerr's favorite JaVale story came in Boston, early last season. Assistant coach Ron Adams had the Celtics scout, his notes scribbled on the whiteboard in the locker room. But Kerr noticed something strange.
"I look at the board and there's this word that I've never heard of," Kerr said. "I may get it wrong. It's called pleonasm. P-L-E-O-N-A-S-M."
Hmm, that's strange, Kerr thought.
"I see it up there and kind of see a couple guys snicker," Kerr said. "Ron didn't notice it. I'm like 'Pleanasm? What the hell is that? How the hell did that get up there?' I could see Andre chuckling."
So after Adams was done with his detailed pregame report, Kerr went over to Iguodala.
"What's up with the laughter?" Kerr asked.
"Did you see the board?" Andre said.
"Yeah," Kerr said.
"Ask JaVale," Andre said.
"So I went over to JaVale and he had a big grin on his face," Kerr said. "I asked him if he wrote it up there, he said, 'Maybe.' I asked 'What's it mean?' He says: 'Look it up.'"
Kerr did.
"The definition is basically sort of droning on and on when maybe fewer words would suffice," Kerr said. "I might not have looked it up. I think he just told me the definition. Then I said: 'Any chance that's related to Ron's scouting report?' He's like: 'Maybe.' We started laughing."
A running joke was born.
"From then on, JaVale and I would always use the word pleonasm with each other," Kerr said. "Maybe we're in a meeting and someone talks for a long time, I'd go over to JaVale and say: 'Pleonasm going on' and he'd say, 'No question.'"
But not everyone's favorite JaVale story came off the court. Mike Brown's favorite memory came from something on the court. Remember the 2017 playoffs, when Kerr had to take a leave of absence for health reasons? Brown stepped in for Game 3 in Portland, feeling the immediate pressure as the Blazers blasted ahead by 17.
The Warriors coaching staff never liked to play McGee more than about 12 minutes a game, usually in two six-minute bursts per half, feeling that, if played longer, he'd often tire, losing energy and defensive focus, allowing his flaws to be exposed more easily.
But JaVale was having a really good series against the Blazers. In four games, he totaled 39 points in 49 minutes on 19-of-23 shooting. So in that Game 3, Brown, sitting in the captain's chair for the first time all season, decided to make a rare rotation tweak, putting JaVale back out there for a second time in the second half. It paid off. McGee was a catalyst in the comeback win.
"Both ends of the floor," Brown remembered. "He was scoring or helping guys score with his threat as a rim runner. Then defensively, he was making things tough for everybody. Might not be a funny moment, but that was my proudest moment."
When approached for this story, Iguodala initially shied away. He's protective of JaVale and very skeptical of anyone trying to paint him in a goofy light. He knows McGee to be quirky, but very sharp and misunderstood.
"I ain't giving you no bad stories," Iguodala said. "Juglife water. How about that? Making sure people have clean water."
While teammates in Denver, Iguodala would regularly see JaVale rolling around with a jug of water, lecturing people on the health benefits of getting your gallon per day. Years later, with the Warriors' shine propping him up, JaVale used that as a marketing tool for philanthropy.
He created Juglife, a company that raised funds to promote and aid people in getting and consuming clean water. He's held his annual charity softball event at the Coliseum the past couple years. Iguodala won the MVP one year. He still has the trophy, a massive bronze glove, planted in his locker.
"He's from Flint, too," Iguodala said of the Michigan city where there is currently a water crisis. "Crazy how that worked out. Then JaVale went over to Africa, working on getting the water situation in a better place. I want to go over there with him, do some stuff with him. He's got a big heart, man. A big heart."
I hope he has a great season (just not against us).
G.O.A.T Squad Spokesman
Logic Is Absent Wherever Hate Is Present
Jones looked good last night.
Yeah.....6/6 is what I think I saw.. And that first lob from Steph was
. Steph has looked good so far, I'm liking what I see.And on some super fanboy sh*t (
) how endearing was the sequence where Kerr and his former Assistant Coach turned rival acknowledged MgGee's 3 pointer....
Last edited:
G.O.A.T Squad Spokesman
Logic Is Absent Wherever Hate Is Present
G.O.A.T Squad Spokesman
Logic Is Absent Wherever Hate Is Present
