Long, scary road back for Warriors’ Looney
Forward aided by home-cooked meals
Warriors center Kevon Looney held hands with his father and mother, gazed at the Golden Gate Bridge, bowed his head and prayed.
Looney’s dad, Kevin, and mom, Victoria, first moved to the Bay Area from Milwaukee in the summer of 2015 to help their youngest son navigate multiple hip surgeries. Now, as Kevon dealt with his most vexing ailment yet, they were near-nightly visitors at his Fisherman’s Wharf row house to cook him dinner and offer support.
Little more than a week removed from returning from a neuropathic condition in his body that sidelined him 20 games and put his future in doubt, Looney is trying to reclaim his reputation as Golden State’s most reliable big man.
His slow climb back the past four games — heading into Wednesday night’s game against the Knicks he was averaging three points and 2.3 rebounds in 11.3 minutes — come as no surprise to those close to him who saw the toll his recent search for answers took on him, both mentally and physically.
“We tried to keep him uplifted with scriptures, telling him God was on his side,” Kevin said. “I always had confidence that he was going to be OK.”
Just a month ago, Looney worried that this neuropathic condition — chronic pain that occurs when nerves become damaged or injured — would derail his career. These days, thanks to a recovery plan that some of the nation’s top specialists helped him map out, he is confident it won’t become a recurring issue.
The Warriors believe that, once Looney gets his conditioning back, he’ll show why the front office views him as a long-term building block. Though hardly one of Golden State’s most athletic frontcourt players, he was arguably its most consistent last season.
Rarely did he mistime a screen or find himself out of position defensively. Even as the hard-capped Warriors faced a numbers crunch last July, they made it a priority to sign Looney to a three-year, $15 million contract.
Just weeks earlier, coach Steve Kerr had told Looney that he expected him to start at center for what would probably be a transitional 2019-20 season. The hope was that Looney’s experience — though only 23, he has played 42 postseason games — would help stabilize a young roster.
But during a scrimmage early in training camp, Looney tried to do a spin move and felt his right leg lock up. The pain was severely worse than the typical tweaked hamstring. Sidelined for three weeks, Looney was desperate for answers.
“Usually, when you get a rolled ankle or even (something) like this, you’ve got a light at the end of the tunnel,” Looney said. “But for my injury, at first, there was no light at the end of the tunnel. I didn’t know what was going on, how long it was going to be, if it was going to be three days or two months.”
“I was scared for him, way beyond basketball,” said Kerr, whose wellchronicled back troubles had once left him with similar concerns about his own health. “We just want somebody to feel healthy and to feel good. I’ve been through my own stuff, so I know all about that. The scariest thing, when you’re facing a health issue, is when you don’t have an answer.”
Over the previous twoplus years, Looney had dealt with pain and numbness in his fingers, wrists, feet and elbow, but the issue had never been serious enough for him to miss games. When doctors informed Looney that his lingering hamstring tightness stemmed from the same neuropathic condition that had affected other parts of his body, Looney grew worried.
Unsure what to do, he confided in his mom, who told him, “You’re a fighter. You’ve been through a lot, and had a lot of injuries, but you always figure it out.” This is a player whose rookie year had been limited to just five games because of hip problems.
His career on life support after his second NBA season, Looney overhauled his diet, shed 30 pounds and arrived at training camp in September 2017 ready to crack the Warriors’ frontcourt rotation.
He set career-highs last season in games played (80), shooting percentage (62.5), rebounds (5.2 per game), assists (1.5 per game) and minutes (18.5 per game). Though his numbers
weren’t gaudy, Looney ranked ninth in the NBA in offensive rebounds per 36 minutes, 27th in real plusminus and 38th in defensive real plus-minus.
His calm, low-maintenance approach made him the ideal role player on a team loaded with All-Stars. Even as Looney recently fretted about his longterm health, his coaches and teammates saw little change in his demeanor.
But today, Looney recognizes that his diligence might have worsened his neuropathic condition. Doctors told him that his rigorous offseason workouts — a mix of scrimmages against fellow NBA players, weight-lifting sessions and Brazilian jiujitsu — could have caused the hamstring strain.
After he visited the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minn., last month, Looney ironed out a recovery plan. He went gluten-free and became a pescatarian (meatfree diets have been shown to help in many neuropathy cases). He rested and began preventative exercises and other traditional rehab on his leg. Kevin served as Kevon’s personal chef, regularly cooking blackened catfish and baked salmon with vegetables and a side of potatoes.
Poring over the Warriors’ film helped keep Kevon sane. For hours on end, he studied a new-look offense, obsessing over details as he envisioned himself anchoring the interior.
As he works to return to his reliable ways on the court, Looney sees family dinners as an important staple of his routine. Late Monday night, after going scoreless in 10 minutes of a loss to the Grizzlies, Looney pulled on a gray sweatshirt and headed home, eager to eat the leftover baked salmon awaiting him in his fridge.
“At a time when I’m not playing well, not healthy, going back to that always gives me the extra comfort and confidence,” Looney said of family dinners, which have been limited to three or four nights a week since he returned from his neuropathic condition. They “give me that boost of family and love that you need to go out there and play.”