One day, the best business schools will cite Steve Kerr’s offseason as a masterclass. At minimum, his handling of this contract situation deserved an episode of “Mad Men.”
He volunteered to enter the 2025-26 season as a lame duck, refusing to discuss his status the entire time and underscoring his ability to walk away. By the end of the season, multiple team sources said, his departure felt imminent. So much so, when the Golden State Warriors lost to the Phoenix Suns in the second round of the Play-In Tournament, many expected him to announce his retirement. The writing was on the wall.
So how are we here, three weeks later, processing a two-year contract extension for Kerr? He remains the highest-paid coach in the league, likely getting a raise. And by the time this weekend rolled around, Warriors management was privately declaring their strong desire for him to stay.
Bravo, Steve. The appearance at a San Francisco Giants game? Chef’s kiss.
Don Nelson, a master at securing contract extensions, is somewhere in Hawaii, nodding in approval.
I jest. Mostly because Kerr has been so mum about it all, as is typical, it’s more fun to envision him on a beach somewhere reading an Edward Bernays book while the streets scramble to find out his next move.
With that said, Kerr probably wasn’t merely exercising a negotiation masterpiece. We know enough about Kerr to know he’s less inclined for such superficial motives. He really did need to hear the right things. He really had to assess what comes next in a universe where he remains the Warriors’ coach.
This renewed pact between the Warriors and Kerr, which will likely be followed by a contract extension from Steph Curry, must take on greater significance than an old band clinging to its glory years. They don’t want to be the NBA’s version of 86-year-old Smokey Robinson gyrating on stage.
This must be the start of an intentional revisioning, an earnest reinvention. The old formulas don’t confound like they once did. Players he once rejected as poor fits might be missing pieces of the roster’s puzzle. The evolution of basketball — in many ways prompted by this same coach and his legendary point guard — demands adaptation. The NBA adjusted to their dominance, spawned its latest juggernauts. The best result for this final chapter is for the remaining legends who built this dynasty to author the franchise’s recalibration.
It’s not as fantastical as a final championship, a fifth crown as an encore. But retrofitting the Warriors to be viable moving forward makes for an honorable lasting imprint.
Count me as one who never thought he was leaving. Not now. Not with No. 30 still cooking. Not with the future prospects of the franchise in relative shambles.
Knowing the parties involved — Kerr, Curry, owner Joe Lacob, general manager Mike Dunleavy — it always felt unlikely they wouldn’t be able to find a resolution. Lacob built this dynasty on collaboration, on the competitive fusion of ideas, with the best argument winning. If anyone involved didn’t want to be involved anymore, they would’ve left already. No need for weeks of deliberation. No need for explanations and convincing. Kerr could’ve simply quit and left for ESPN. Lacob could’ve just moved on and hired whichever protégé he preferred (which is exactly how Kerr got to the Warriors). Dunleavy probably could’ve taken a job with the Chicago Bulls or another team. Curry can call me anytime and voice his trade demand.
But none of that happened because they all want to be here. And if these minds want to be here, nothing says they can’t figure it out. Four championships and six NBA Finals appearances in eight years serve as proof of their collective will and ingenuity.
And while change often requires overhaul, the case could be made that no one will be more invested in reimagining the Warriors’ viability than the people who made them viable. Outside of Lacob, who cares more about how this ends than Kerr, Curry and Draymond Green? They’ve earned the privilege to oversee this transition — not because of the championships they’ve won, but because of the loyalty to what they’ve built and their wherewithal for candid assessment.
Steve Kerr shared this moment with Steph Curry and Draymond Green during the final moments of the Golden State Warriors’ NBA Play-In Tournament game against the Phoenix Suns last month. (Christian Petersen / Getty Images)
Sometimes, Kerr has seemed too ready to declare this thing over, which can feel a bit dismissive of Curry’s resilient brilliance. But even that is born of reverence for the success they’ve established. Imagine having watched film of your team in 2017 and 2018, then experiencing the gumption of the 2022 champions, then seeing the 2024 squad get bounced in the Play-In by the Sacramento Kings. Reality doesn’t slap with soft gloves.
Still, for this task, it’s hard to trust anyone more than Kerr. For a few reasons.
Let’s start with this: No one knows Curry the player better than Kerr. The only people who could make a case to know more: Dell Curry, Seth Curry, former Davidson coach Bob McKillop and Brandon Payne, his trainer. And of them, only Kerr has lived alongside him in the crucible of the NBA grind.
And Curry entrusts his considerable talent to Kerr, who can look at his star point guard and just about diagnose his disposition.
Another reason to trust Kerr: His elegant balance of stubbornness and humility. The four-time championship coach — and five-time championship player — boasts the credentials to turn off his ears. He has sat at the feet of Lute Olson, Phil Jackson and Gregg Popovich, and he’s coached alongside hoop geniuses such as Alvin Gentry, Ron Adams and Mike Brown. Kerr knows some things, and he knows he knows some things, and it can take some convincing to get him off his square.
That’s a valuable attribute in this climate, when public sentiment often influences internal discourse. Kerr commands respect.
At the same time, find a coach more willing to say he’s wrong than Kerr. He’s a ’90s hooper who made room in his perspective for analytics. He’s a coach with a bent for passing and movement and a disdain for overdribbling and stagnation, who also blossomed Jordan Poole on the road to a championship. From embracing Jimmy Butler to giving Dennis Schröder a shot, Kerr has shown an openness that’s worth acknowledging.
It’s good for the Warriors’ brain trust to have some resistance, and that resistance being a surefire Hall of Fame coach. One who still loves coaching. You’ll never see Kerr happier than when cohesion and execution bring a vision to life. He glows over bench players who come into their own and over superstars who buy into the bigger picture. Kerr is right more often than he’s wrong because none of his ways, even when they fail, are approached half-heartedly. He lives for the parts of coaching they’re going to need.
Another reason to trust Kerr: If the Warriors do somehow get their hands on another star — and you can bet a Lacob-run franchise will try — then Golden State will require Kerr’s greatest strength of maximizing excellence.
In the alternate universe where the Warriors land Giannis Antetokounmpo or Kawhi Leonard or LeBron James, Kerr is the coach you’d want. Go watch “Court of Gold” on Netflix and see why.
Of course, Kerr can’t cling to that moving forward. He, too, must evolve. This league teems with athleticism. The ability to create offense individually, put pressure on the rim and set up stationary shooters — as much as such violates Kerr’s inclinations — have become necessary to beat good modern defenses.
The Warriors spawned this era. Where skill matters at least as much as size. Where length is as much of a weapon as height. Where transition is a primary offensive scheme. Where open space on the court is as valuable as Montana acreage. And where shooting is preeminent.
The rest of the league leaned in, juicing the model with athleticism. Wing players have become the modern gold. And the Warriors can no longer compete in this modern league without becoming more like it.
Collectively, the leaders of this franchise have to reevaluate how to maximize the aging generational talent they have in Curry, who still wreaks havoc when he’s healthy, and provide an ending to this dynasty worthy of its heights. That, they must.
The Warriors have to reconsider some foundational tenets of their style. That, they should.
And Kerr, in the name of innovation and novelty, will have to stomach some things. That, he can.
To borrow a line from “Mad Men”: “That’s what the money is for.”
