Thompson: Klay Thompson has a vulnerable moment after Warriors win

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SAN FRANCISCO — Players and coaches from the Warriors and Blazers had already shared their hugs and disappeared into the tunnel. Avicii’s dance remix “Levels,” the Warriors’ traditional post-victory song, had already finished thumping through Chase Center speakers and gave way to the the ambient sounds of dispersing-crowd chatter. Those privileged enough to have postgame passes had already filed into the reserved section for meet and greets.

And the entire time, Klay Thompson was affixed to the Warriors’ bench. For 35 minutes, he sat.

He began hunched over in his seat, his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped together as he stared at the hardwood in front of him. The remnants of fans not yet cleared out of the arena began chanting his name. “Thomp-Son! Thomp-Son!” His head nodded to their cadence. He pumped his fist to a yell of “Klay, we love you!” from the rafters, tapped his heart in response to another adoring shout. Eventually, he returned back to still, gazing at the court. Perhaps visualizing himself on that very floor, which he has yet to christen.

You just know he can feel the ball slide through his hands as he transitions from catching to shooting. See the defender flying at him, obscuring his view of the rim and forcing him to rely on technique and muscle memory. You know he can almost taste the adrenaline rush of anticipation as the ball spins in the air.

But he can’t actually experience it. Not yet. It’s still just a vision, one crafted from memories and so profound within Thompson it weighted him down right there on the bench. For 35 minutes, he sat.

“He’s right there,” Draymond Green said. “He’s right there, getting towards the end of the road — or beginning of the road, however you choose to look at it. You know, he has these days from time to time. I understand it as far as I can understand without going through it. I don’t know many people that love basketball the way Klay loves basketball. That loves competing the way he loves competing. I always talk about our dominoes games. He even loves doing that and he’s severely outmatched. He’s just a competitor. One of the biggest competitors I’ve ever been around in my life.”

This was Day 898 since he last played an NBA game. And it was a rough one for Thompson, even though the Warriors beat Portland, 118-103, to improve to 17-2. Perhaps especially because they beat the Blazers, a frequent victim in this Warriors era of greatness and a team sentimentally connected to his childhood days in Portland.

This is more than something he wants. More than hope. More than desire. The postgame image Friday of Thompson was one of desperation. A live illustration of the hard-to-watch side of mental toughness. Not even the $37,980,720 he’s making this season can prevent this struggle.

This is what it looks like when the thing that gives one purpose is snatched away. For Thompson, it was then placed close enough to smell but too far to grasp. And he is just genuine enough not to hide in these moments. Vulnerable enough to share this aspect of his trying journey. While he may not be doing such intentionally, Thompson’s willingness to be this transparent allows a fan base to suffer with him. And there is no better preparation for his triumphant return than being able to sit with him in his low moments. Mourn with one who mourns, then rejoice with one who rejoices.

Thompson reclined in the chair, stretching back far enough to point his face to the rafters. He put the towel over his face as he exhaled, his best attempt to let the emotions travel through him. Eventually, he returned to the thinking pose, elbows on his knees as the thoughts scrambled behind his eyes. This time, he put the towel over his head, covering his face. Occasionally he used it to wipe his eyes.

As the night went on, as the workers came to clean the aisles, as Oakland native Damian Lillard emerged to greet his large contingent of guests, Thompson remained glued to the bench, paralyzed by his obvious distress. For 35 minutes, he sat.

This wasn’t the first time. Last season, in a home win over Denver, Thompson was a bit overwhelmed then, too. It was the first time Chase Center had fans since the start of the pandemic. It was enough for Curry to venture to the back of the Warriors’ socially distanced bench and console his backcourt mate. That was day 681.

Thompson is progressing towards getting back on the court. Green said the improvement on the court, compared to when he started playing three-on-three in practice, was night and day. Few believe Thompson will remain on the shelf beyond the Christmas Day game. And since the Warriors are committed to his return being at home, his 2021-22 debut will likely be before Christmas as the Warriors will be on the road for the holiday.

But it’s the closeness that is making this so much more difficult.

“I think going into this particular season,” Curry said, “and him getting closer than he’s ever been to getting back on the floor, I kind of predicted this would be the hardest part on his journey. Because he’s got the basketball back in his hands every day, he’s feeling like himself, he’s playing pickup, he’s around our practices, he’s back with us in those type of situations. but he’s still not on the court. The good thing is we’re talking weeks instead of months now.”

After a while, Khalid Robinson, Steve Kerr’s special assistant, came out and sat on Thompson’s right. Before long, Kerr was on the bench, sitting to Thompson’s left. The coach gave his off guard a pat on the back, and some encouraging words, but mostly seemed to listen and just keep Thompson company. Assistant coach Chris DeMarco, who came out with Kerr, stood in front of Thompson, adding the support of another friend. Robinson eventually gave up his seat to Curry, who came from the locker room to sit with Thompson. Green, after stopping in the friends and family section, made his way over to spend time with him, too.

There, they huddled around their wounded superstar.

“After almost three full calendar years off the floor, it’s tough,” Green said. “So we sympathize with him. But we have to be right there. Continue to push him. Continue to get him to the finish line, or the start line, as I said before. … It’s beautiful to watch him conquer this journey that he’s been on. He’s conquering it.”

It’s perhaps a bit sad. Thompson is definitely presenting a unique window into the anguish athletes endure while rehabbing. And having gone through an ACL rehab followed by an Achilles rehab is essentially torture for Thompson, who has said himself he hasn’t dealt with much adversity. But this is part of the coming back. This is what overcoming looks like sometimes.

A successful rehab isn’t one absent of such lows, but one that presses on despite them. Thompson, who often presents so unflappable and unfazed, especially in Game 6s, has been stacking up some lows.

Day 525, the day he tore his Achilles, had to be the worst, even more devastating than Day 1. And who knows the private days that were filled with despair and doubt and fear. But he’s getting through them.

“Super proud of the way he’s just approached this two-year window,” Curry said, “because unless he wants to write a book and tell every step of the way, nobody will understand what he’s been through away from the game so long. And it shows how much this game matters to him. It’s rare these days to have somebody as pure as Klay just feel every bit of what basketball brings to him.”

Thompson has been more present through the Achilles rehab than he was during his ACL. He’s spent more time in the Bay and with his teammates. His presence  looms large despite his lack of playing. And he’s become more open this time around, from his boat excursions on Instagram to him talking about his process for staying sane through it all.

The Warriors season opener this year was day 860. Thompson did his best to be patient after shootaround in Los Angeles. He chatted with rookie Moses Moody on the sideline while his teammates got up some final shots. But eventually, Thompson kicked everyone off half of the Staples Center court. It was his time to work.

He even had the music changed. “Put on Tupac. To Live and Die in L.A.,” he yelled. His request was granted instantly. Soon, he was drilling jumpers to the beat crafted by Quincy Jones III, and it was clear Thompson was getting his mind ready for the inevitability of playing. “This is such a great song,” he said as he walked to his next drill spot on the floor, nodding his head.

He was two months away by most projections. But that shows how this has been an elongated ramp up. So much has been brewing in Thompson’s psyche for months now as getting back on the court with his guys becomes more and more tangible.

But being close has its drawbacks. The carrot was close enough to tickle his nose on Friday.

He wanted to guard Lillard. He wanted to make the 3-pointer that quelled the Blazers’ run in the fourth quarter.  He wanted to turn to the crowd and command it to its feet as the Warriors put the game away.

Yet he can’t. Still. Thompson was forced to reckon with that reality, whatever triggered it, and chose to deal with it right from the bench, where he sat in street clothes. He worked through the angst. Through the hurt. Through the frustration. Through the powerlessness.

So for 35 minutes, he sat. And because of his willingness to be vulnerable, he wasn’t alone. Warriors fans got to be there with him.

At 9:54 p.m., surrounded by his championship cohorts, Thompson finally stood up. He walked off the Warriors bench and disappeared through the tunnel. With a smile on his face.

Day 899 is a new one. Thompson will be ready for it.

(Top photo: Ezra Shaw / Getty Images)