For many years, I was a hardcore NBA fan. My theory was that anyone who said they didn’t like watching pro basketball had never been to a live NBA game. Although my fandom died off when things changed so the games and teams were all about individual glory (rather than team effort), my appreciation came back with the rise of the Warriors, who played as a team and seemed to love it. So I was fascinated when I read about The Victory Machine by Ethan Sherwood Strauss, and was happy to receive a copy from Perseus Books/PublicAffairs and NetGalley in exchange for my honest review.
The subtitle is “The Making and Unmaking of the Warriors Dynasty,” and the author seemed to be in a great position to know all sides of the story: he was the Golden State Warriors beat reporter for both ESPN and The Athletic, and has gotten more than his share of publicity for his “interactions” with superstar Kevin Durant. He has written a fascinating history of the Warriors, focusing on the glory years from 2015 to present day. And if you are hoping to read a feel-good tribute kind of book, this isn’t it. As Strauss tells his readers clearly, “Most sports books are celebratory in nature, but this one dwells on the sadness that comes with success.”
Huh? How could a team that had made it to the NBA Finals for five straight years and won the championship three times during that run experience sadness? Were the widely admired owners and GM something other than the geniuses they appeared to be? After all, when the Warriors appeared in the 2015 NBA Finals, it had been forty years since they had even gotten past the first round of the playoffs.
In 2010, it was widely expected that billionaire Larry Ellison was going to buy the Warriors from owner Chris Cohan, despite the fact that they didn’t get along and Cohan was “something of a Keyser Soze of failure.” (I love this line!) Joe Lacob and Peter Guber were seen as underdogs in the bidding war for the team, but as Strauss notes, “When the Warriors were sold, the underdog won. The underdog then oversaw the birth of the ultimate overdog, the team that would ruin basketball.” Wait, what? Ruin basketball?! I don’t get this line at all!!
Lacob and Guber, along with GM Bob Myers and basketball genius Jerry West (hired as a consultant), are widely credited with totally turning the team around, with Lacob being the most visible. Strauss doesn’t hold back in discussing his opinion of Lacob, for whom he says he has “…more tolerance…than many of the people who compete against and work for him.” Although he admits that when he interviews him “…it’s gold…Reporters will appraise players as “great guy, terrible quote.” There can be a correlation. Assholes sometimes make for better quotes.”
While the rise of the Warriors dynasty can be traced to shrewd moves by Lacob, Guber, Myers, and West, the downfall is harder to define, although Strauss points out that “Rarely in the NBA does basketball nirvana die of natural causes. Egos get in the way, often before Father Time arrives on the scene.” He further identifies some key factors in the Warriors’ demise: money, egos, and “chemistry.” Teams are made up of “sneaker salesmen who play the role of basketball players.” The whole relationship of players, fans, shoe companies and NBA overseers is laid bare by Strauss, who notes “So much of the NBA is artifice, or at the very least, contrivance.”
The fifth key in the administrative side of the dynasty is head coach Steve Kerr, widely regarded as a genius acquisition: “The Kerr era brought great success, all the while promoting the idea that success could actually be enjoyed.” His ability to manage the diverse personalities and egos is legendary, and despite being so successful, managing the players was a delicate skill. After all winning “… is generally good for all, but your teammates’ exploits can easily come at your expense…Resentment runs deep, as does paranoia.”
Enter Kevin Durant, a brilliant player whose rough upbringing may have contributed to his inability to feel like he truly fit in to the Warriors’ team environment. He never could accept that while fans appreciated him, the Warriors fans were clearly more appreciative of Steph Curry, and “…cheered loudest for the smaller MVP’s baskets.” Steph personified the type of player the NBA wanted: “… winsome heroes beamed into televisions across the world, They didn’t want sneering, petulant dicks.”
The book has a huge amount of space devoted to KD’s quirks, paranoia, and battles with Coach Kerr, and while Strauss tells those stories in great detail (and it’s not a pretty picture), he is equally hard on fans: “Even if the fans were often thanked at public team events and retirement ceremonies, their existence is mostly just tolerated… their love looks ghoulish and horrifying from the recipient’s vantage.” And he notes that “…with the rise of the importance of …Social media, the power of the asshole fan is disproportionate.”
There are a few things that will stick with me long after reading this book. First, the Warriors lost the services of Jerry West because he quit “over having been told to take a pay cut.” WTF? Second, KD was a miserable person and definitely detracted from the elusive “chemistry” quotient, and his departure was never in doubt: ”Few will ever admit to being motivated by factors beyond winning but at a certain point, winning with misery just isn’t an appealing path.” Third, Klay Thompson is a fascinating guy: “… an apathetic, charismatic, half-wise, half-oblivious, Keanu Reeves character with a jump shot.”
Will be appreciated by basketball fans in general for the inside look at the nature of athletes, contracts, etc., although the painful truths about the players’ view of the fans and the personality of Kevin Durant will perhaps not be appreciated by some. And it will be devoured by Warriors fans in particular who may or may not agree, but will likely learn quite a bit about the reasons why their team rose to such success…then fell. (But I still don’t get how they are “…the team that would ruin basketball.” Four stars.