Golden State Warriors: Gilbert Arenas and Jason Richardson Used to Run This Town
Years before Golden State point guard Baron Davis embarked upon a baseline drive that would culminate in the postseason throw down to end all postseason (posterized) throw downs, another pair of guards used to set Oakland alight with their high-flying antics.
Although their careers would only intersect for two seasons (they would be reunited in a blockbuster 2010 trade that sent both players to the Orlando Magic), Gilbert Arenas and Jason Richardson made the most of it. They formed one of the most dynamically devastating duos in recent memory.
Growing up in vastly different areas of the country—Arenas was a Southern California native, Richardson hailed from Flint, Michigan—the two both brought significantly different styles of play to the table. Arenas had spent two seasons honing his all-around guard game at then "Point Guard U," where he would help lead Arizona to its second trip to the NCAA final in five seasons (1997 winners, 2001 runners-up to Duke).
Richardson was one of the final components of the "Flint connection" at State. He played a contributing role in the Spartans' 2000 title, where fellow Flint-ians Mateen Cleeves, Morris Peterson and Charlie Bell formed a three-pronged guard triumvirate that proved too much for Florida in the final.
Richardson was the high-flying acrobat. Arenas, a renowned character, had a scintillating blend of basketball know-how and some prodigious handles. (He was no slouch in the air, either.)
Where the two young men's differing paths would meet, however, was in the ascendant path to audacity. Both had a flair for the debonair when it came to high-flying antics.
They would only play together for two seasons (2001-2003), but perhaps that was for the best. Excellence often becomes trivialized over long periods of time, and that formidable twosome's exploits will forever remain luminous, in large part because their light had no chance to dim.
The Warriors seemed like a team on the rise by the tandem's second season together in 2002-2003, finishing a respectable 38-44 under coach Eric Musselman. Every night was another chapter in the latest endeavor of "fun 'n' gun" basketball, before Don Nelson ever returned to the sidelines at Oracle Arena (he had coached the team in the early 1990s before his spell in the 2000s).
Those 2002-2003 Warriors put up 102.4 points a night, placing them as second-best in the NBA, while conceding 103.6 per outing, which was good enough for—dead-last place.
They lived and died with the fast break, but everyone held their breath when Arenas latched onto an outlet pass and stormed up-court with one thought in mind: deliver the most incredibly entertaining end-product possible.
Arenas and Richardson were overshadowed (somewhat) by leading scorer Antawn Jamison, who garnered SLAM Magazine stories for the little-reputed outfit that was Golden State in those days, but they more than held their own when allowed to run. They steadily made a name for themselves as well, with Richardson bursting onto the national scene on the wind-swept back of the 2003 dunk title, years before Arenas became Agent O, or Hibachi, or whatever he's calling himself these days.
This wasn't the cumbersome-but-well-drilled efficiency of the San Antonio Spurs, or even the well-worked passing game of the Phoenix Suns, who were just coming into their naissance as an entertaining outfit in Amar'e Stoudemire's rookie season (Steve Nash would join one year later).
This was a no-holds-barred, nightly foray into the sublime, serving vast helpings of alley-oop dunks and dynamite three-pointers. For a neutral, there were few teams more enjoyable to watch than those Warriors.
Arenas would average 18.8 points and 6.5 assists that season, joined by Richardson (J-Rich), who posted 17.1 points. Perhaps Arenas's 3.6 turnovers per game are worth mentioning: his assist-to-turnover ratio wasn't All-NBA worthy, but it did reflect something much more enjoyable: no-holds-barred, high-flying basketball.
The Warriors would come apart after that season, dismantling their roster after failing to match Washington Wizards' five-year, $60 million offer for the restricted free agent Arenas. Jamison would be shipped out to Dallas in an eight-player trade.
J-Rich remained, and the Warriors battled to a 39-43 record in 2003-2004, but, in all honesty, everyone put their attention on pause until the Baron Davis trade in the winter of 2005.
Davis was the predecessor to the current bunch of high-flyers, most notably led by Monta Ellis.
Seems to follow a trend, doesn't it?
