In the courtroom, there’s a legal claim called “ineffective assistance of counsel” that a defendant can make when their attorney is so bad at their job that it effectively violates their constitutional rights.
Warriors forward Jonathan Kuminga should look into whether the same claim can be made in NBA contract negotiations.
The good news is that the Warriors-Jonathan Kuminga contract saga is over.
The bad news for Kuminga is that his agent negotiated for him a lesser deal than he could have received from the Warriors, and that same dragged him and his reputation along on an embarrassing and quixotic quest for self-aggrandizement in the process.
But, hey, Aaron Turner got his name out there.
After Tuesday, he should regret that decision.
Only one thing truly, assuredly came out of this process: Kuminga’s in-over-his-head agent made Steph Curry very, very mad.
That seems like a bad thing to do.
“I only listen to my teammate,” Curry said tersely after he was asked an eighth question about Kuminga’s contract situation at Monday’s media day. “I don’t listen to agents or anybody speaking on behalf.”
The quote isn’t just a soundbite; it’s a public execution of the agent’s credibility in this league. Kuminga would have been a lot better off had he listened to his legendary teammate (and a damn good businessman), not the sycophantic calls of a guy desperate to make a name for himself.
In a summer saga marked by more red flags than Beijing, the biggest one emerged just days ago, when Turner, on that media tour, claimed that his client would rather accept the $8 million, one-year qualifying offer than agree to a deal with a team option.
He genuinely believed he was playing poker with an unbeatable hand — his was a master-class bluff.
I guess he didn’t know that the Warriors have 17-time World Series of Poker champion Phil Helmuth as an off-the-books consultant.
Turner should stick to Go Fish.
Not only did Turner end up with a deal that stripped a year of guaranteed salary off the table—the Warriors’ previous offer was reportedly three years and $75 million (with a final-year team option)—but he then had the sheer audacity, through a public relations flack (or as ESPN calls him, “NBA Insider Shams Charania”), to try and spin the second-year team option as a deal that can be “ripped up and renegotiated next summer.”
That is not how a team option works. The Warriors don’t have to tear up anything. That would require the deal to have a mutual option or a player option, which, well, it doesn’t.
Maybe Turner knows that. Maybe he doesn’t. It doesn’t really matter because what actually matters is what’s on paper, and it doesn’t suit Kuminga and his alleged commitment to the Warriors, which his teammates said Monday he’s pledged to them.
What this deal actually does is simple, brutal, and utterly transparent: It forces Kuminga to keep his bags packed all season long.
So much for being a foundational piece in the Warriors’ future; the heir to Curry’s kingdom.
Kuminga is nothing more to the Warriors than a trade piece — one that’s eligible to be moved come Jan. 15.
His Warriors legacy will be relegated to fine print — the guy they sent to make salaries work for someone else. Anyone else, perhaps.
And, make no mistake about it, he’ll move. The implicit no-trade clause that comes with what’s effectively a one-year deal like this has reportedly already been waived. (So Turner does know…)
The only reasonable conclusion? Kuminga has been victimized by the reckless, headline-chasing incompetence of the very man paid to protect him.
That sound you hear is other agents on the phone, trying to poach Kuminga as a client. They’ll make some strong points, and he should listen to them.
Between now and that fateful January day, I do not doubt that Kuminga will be a good soldier — a pro. No one wants to act up and mess up trade value when the end is so near. You have to be on your best behavior — you’re auditioning for other teams.
At the same time, that audition process might be a problem for the end-of-2025 Dubs. Don’t expect Kuminga to change anything that he does on the court. He’ll still be a ball-stopper in the Warriors’ ball-movement offense and a when-I-feel-like-it defender.
Buy in?
The Warriors didn’t buy into Kuminga, and I can’t blame them for that.
At the same time, we won’t be able to blame Kuminga when he doesn’t buy in for the next few months, either.
This is the 2006 Jennifer Aniston-Vince Vaughn movie The Breakup. Kuminga and the Warriors have decided to go their separate ways — they just have to live together for a few months until the forward finds a new place to live.
And I know it’s that movie, because it’s certainly not Turner starring in a reboot of Jerry Maguire.
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