Just because someone’s gone doesn’t mean you stop caring about them. Reading Anthony Slater’s article for ESPN on [the seperation between Klay Thompson and his former bros](https://www.espn.com/nba/story/_/id/47337734/regrets-klay-thompson-warriors-exit-final-chapter-mavericks) on the Warriors was a tough one for me. Steph Curry proved this when his 7-year-old son Canon watched him yell “Shoot it, Klay!” at a Mavericks game on TV and asked the question that probably breaks Curry’s heart every time: “Why are you here?”
Because Klay left. And now he’s averaging 10.8 points on 36.7% shooting for a Dallas team that’s not what he signed up for. And the Warriors are 13-15 without him, trying to convince themselves they made the right choice. And somewhere in the wreckage of what they built together, I feel like there’s a Hallmark TV holiday lesson building up here.
The thing about the holidays is there’s nothing quite like the power of reconciliation. Next week, on Christmas Day, Klay Thompson comes home. Not for sentiment. Not for nostalgia. To compete and to win; proving something to the place that made him and the place that let him go.
And if you watch closely, you’ll see that fire still burning. You’ve seen the clips. Klay getting into it with Ja Morant. Telling rookie Myron Gardner “You can’t sit in my table!” after hearing “bum” and “trash” one too many times from the Heat bench. This isn’t decline making him bitter. This is a champion who tore his ACL in the Finals, tore his Achilles in recovery, and gave 13 years of his prime to Golden State, now watching kids who haven’t earned anything question his legacy.
And the thing that gets me? Steph and Draymond Green hate watching it happen from a distance. “I don’t like people taking shots at him when he doesn’t have his guys with him,” Curry said. Draymond saw the same clips and his reaction was visceral: “That’s two instances in a row I saw him arguing by himself.”
This is what happens when brothers split up. And even when you’re trying to move on, you keep catching yourself watching their games, yelling at the TV, wishing things were different. There’s something poetic about two struggling teams meeting on Christmas. The Warriors are trying to stay relevant with an aging core while he Mavericks are rebuilding after trading away the star Klay came to play with. Both teams are are a long ways off from their NBA Western Conference Finals clash in 2022.
But maybe that’s exactly why this game matters because it’s not about 73 wins or running the top of the conference anymore. It’s about watching people who refuse to let go, competitors who keep showing up even when the sun is setting on their era. And now we have Steph and Draymond on one side with Klay on the other. All of them knowing the clock is ticking.
And here’s the wild part that I can’t stop thinking about: both teams are so lost right now that you almost wonder if they’d be better off back together. Would they win another championship? Maybe. Maybe not. But wouldn’t it be something to watch them try? Last February, Curry made a point to have dinner at Klay’s Dallas house with Draymond. They played chess, talked about nothing important, and avoided the hurt. Curry called it “an acknowledgement of the finality” of the situation.
But finality doesn’t mean the end of love. “If that time comes,” Curry said about a potential reunion, “of course I’m calling him and saying, ‘We want you back.’ But as we stand right now, that does seem like a far distant reality. But so did him leaving.”
That’s the line that haunts me. Because it means anything’s possible. It means pride and hurt don’t have to be permanent. It means that just because someone’s gone doesn’t mean they’re gone forever.This Christmas game isn’t about the standings. It’s about what happens when the people we love choose a different path and we’re forced to watch them struggle from a distance. It’s about whether reconciliation is possible when both sides have been wounded. It’s about watching a warrior fight alone and wondering if he has to.
Klay Thompson will suit up in Dallas colors at Chase Center, and everyone in that building will remember who he really is: one of the greatest Warriors of all time. A champion who gave everything and a brother still fighting.
And maybe that’s enough for now under the cold dying sunset of winter.
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* [Golden State Warriors Discussion](/warriors-game-previews)