Kawhi Leonard Has Lost Touch With Reality: How the Clippers’ Silent Superstar Drifted From Accountability and Left a Contender in Chaos
He owns a gleaming new arena, one of the largest personal fortunes in sports, and a franchise that was supposed to finally escape its reputation as the NBA’s punchline.
He cannot buy a break.
The Los Angeles Clippers, who were sold as title contenders when Kawhi Leonard chose them in 2019, now sit in a kind of basketball purgatory: too injured and unstable to seriously compete, too asset‑poor to rebuild, and too capped‑out to pivot.
It would be easy to call this “bad luck.” It would also be incomplete.
This isn’t just misfortune. It’s the consequence of one of the riskiest all‑in gambles any team has ever made—on a superstar whose body and approach were always going to make that bet volatile.
And now, as the losses pile up, Kawhi Leonard is hinting that the talent around him isn’t good enough.
The irony is impossible to ignore.
“Get Some More Talent”
After a 135–118 blowout loss to the Lakers, Leonard was asked what needed to change.
His answer was strikingly blunt:
“Just got to get the right lineups on the court, I guess. Get some more talent. Play with better talent and see what happens.”
This is a player making roughly $50 million a year. A player who has already missed 11 games this season. A player whose team has been outscored by 57 points with him on the floor, according to The Athletic’s Law Murray.
Leonard’s comments would sound harsh coming from any star. Coming from this star, in this situation, they feel like something else entirely: a disconnect from reality.
Because the Clippers can’t “go get more talent.”
They can’t trade their way out of this. They can’t draft their way out of this. They can’t sign their way out of this.
They gave up that flexibility years ago—largely to build around Kawhi Leonard.
Ty Lue’s Boiling Point
If you want a sense of how strained things are inside the Clippers’ locker room, listen to head coach Tyronn Lue.
Before Kawhi’s “get more talent” comment, Lue had already aired his frustration in a way coaches almost never do publicly. Talking about the impact of losing his star, he said:
“You lose your best player, a top‑10 player when he’s on the floor, it’s hard to really make up for that. I know a lot of people say, ‘Next man up,’ but, you know, if he’s making $60 million, your next man up is making $400,000. It’s not really the same, you know.”
That’s not boilerplate coach speak.
That is the voice of a coach caught between a star he can’t rely on and a roster that’s been hollowed out to keep that star happy.
Lue is essentially saying:
Leonard is paid and treated like a top‑10 player.
When he’s out, the drop‑off is enormous.
The team cannot simply “next‑man‑up” its way around the gap created by his absences.
And when Leonard does play? The Clippers are still being outscored.
It’s the worst of both worlds: a team built entirely around a player who can’t be assumed to be on the court, and whose impact this year hasn’t matched his billing when he is.
How Kawhi Put the Clippers in a Box
Leonard is not solely to blame for the Clippers’ predicament. The front office and ownership made every trade and signed every check.
But his fingerprints are everywhere.
The Paul George Ultimatum
This all started on July 6, 2019.
Kawhi Leonard, fresh off a title and Finals MVP with Toronto, was choosing between the Lakers and Clippers. He told Steve Ballmer he’d sign with the Clippers—if they also acquired Paul George.
Doc Rivers reportedly warned Leonard:
“Are you sure you want to do this? I believe Shai Gilgeous‑Alexander is going to be a good player.”
The Clippers did it anyway, sending to Oklahoma City:
Shai Gilgeous‑Alexander.
Danilo Gallinari.
Unprotected first‑round picks in 2022, 2024, 2026.
Miami’s 2021 and 2023 first‑rounders.
Pick swaps in 2023 and 2025.
Five firsts and two swaps. One of the biggest packages in league history.
At the time, it was framed as the cost of doing business for a chance at a championship core:
Kawhi Leonard: fresh from one of the most dominant postseason runs in recent memory.
Paul George: third in MVP voting the year before.
The bet wasn’t irrational. It was just incredibly fragile.
And its consequences are still being felt around the league.
The Thunder Dynasty Kawhi Helped Build
What did Oklahoma City do with those picks and Shai?
They built what might be the next great NBA dynasty.
Gilgeous‑Alexander just won the 2025 MVP and led the Thunder to a championship.
OKC is currently 17–1—even with Jalen Williams yet to suit up this season.
They drafted Williams with one of those Clippers picks.
They now have roughly a 31.4% chance at a top‑four pick in this year’s draft because they also own the Clippers’ 2025 first.
In a draft expected to include elite prospects like Cameron Boozer, AJ Dybantsa, and Darrin Peterson, the defending champions could add another blue‑chip talent to a core that already includes:
Shai Gilgeous‑Alexander.
Chet Holmgren.
Jalen Williams.
A rotation full of length, shooting, and defense.
At some point, the league has to ask: what do you even do with that much talent?
The Clippers didn’t just hurt themselves with that trade. They changed the NBA’s competitive balance for years by funneling their future into an organization that has barely missed on a pick in the last decade.
They accidentally built the Thunder’s empire.
Then They Did It Again
You could argue that the 2019 move was defensible. Leonard was at the height of his powers. George was a legitimate star. You take that swing.
What’s harder to justify is what came next.
In October 2023, with Leonard’s injuries already a recurring pattern, the Clippers sent:
Their 2028 unprotected first‑round pick.
Two second‑round picks.
A 2029 pick swap.
to Philadelphia for James Harden.
On paper, it made a certain kind of sense: a third creator to relieve the burden on Kawhi and George; another shot at making the window count.
In reality, it was a second all‑in bet layered on top of the first, with even less margin for error.
Add it all up, and between now and 2030, the Clippers have given up the rights to 11 draft picks—firsts, swaps, seconds—just to surround Leonard with the stars he wanted.
They are keeping only three of their own picks over the next six drafts. None of them are first‑rounders until 2030.
Today, the only draft assets they can realistically trade are:
Their 2030 first‑round pick.
A 2031 second‑round pick.
In a league where front offices rarely want picks more than three or four years out, those hold minimal immediate value. They’re IOUs from a franchise already heading downhill.
An Aging, Injured Star at the Center
All of those picks, all of that flexibility, all of that future—they were spent for one reason:
To build around Kawhi Leonard.
And Leonard, since arriving in Los Angeles, simply hasn’t been on the floor enough to justify it.
Since 2019:
The Clippers have played 486 regular‑season games.
Kawhi has appeared in 272 of them.
He’s missed 214—roughly 44% of all games.
He:
Missed the entire 2021–22 season after tearing his ACL.
Missed the first 34 games of the 2022–23 season with knee inflammation.
Has already missed 11 games this season with ankle and foot issues.
The Clippers have lost in the first round three straight seasons. In each case, Leonard’s health (or lack thereof) was a major factor.
The most frustrating part isn’t just the absences. It’s the opacity.
Injuries are labeled “day‑to‑day” that quietly stretch into weeks.
The team offers vague updates.
Only later do we hear that Leonard’s foot sprain was “significant,” or that his knee is “being managed.”
Clippers fans show up not knowing if their best player will start, sit, or be ruled out five minutes before tipoff.
At a certain point, it’s not just physically destabilizing. It’s psychologically destabilizing—for teammates, coaches, and fans.
A Roster That Has Eroded Around Him
Look around the Clippers’ current roster and you see the bill coming due.
Bradley Beal, signed on a minimum in what looked like a shrewd gamble, has been lost for the season with a hip fracture after just six games.
Derrick Jones Jr. is out for at least six weeks.
Norman Powell, traded away and now thriving in Miami, is averaging 25 points per game at an All‑Star level.
Depth, once a strength, has evaporated.
The team that was supposed to support Leonard and Harden is a patchwork group of aging stars, minimum deals, and role players stretched beyond their ideal roles.
The one constant force keeping the Clippers from completely imploding has been Harden.
At 36, he’s:
Playing over 36 minutes per game.
Averaging more than 23 points and 9 assists.
Carrying an offense that has almost no margin for error.
And then he hears his co‑star suggest the team needs “better talent.”
If you’re Harden, how do you not take that personally?
You’re grinding every night to keep the team afloat while the franchise player:
Misses games at a historic rate.
Posts a negative on‑court plus‑minus.
Then tells the media, essentially, that the guys around him aren’t good enough.
It’s hard to build trust in a locker room under those circumstances. It’s even harder when the coach is openly referencing your salary when explaining why the team can’t survive without you.
No Way Forward, No Way Out
Every bad NBA situation needs one thing to get better: a path.
The Clippers don’t seem to have one.
They can’t tank. Those would just be high picks gift‑wrapped for the Thunder and Sixers.
They can’t meaningfully trade for help. They don’t control enough of their future draft capital to outbid anyone.
They can’t splash in free agency. They’re capped out with huge money committed to aging, injury‑prone stars.
They are, in effect:
Too injured and fragile to contend.
Too asset‑poor to rebuild.
Too financially locked‑in to pivot.
This is the definition of basketball purgatory.
You’re not bad enough to bottom out and reset. You’re not good enough to seriously threaten the teams at the top. You’re just stuck.
Not Just Bad Luck
To be fair, some of this is simply misfortune.
Nobody predicted Kawhi’s body would break down this frequently. Few expected Bradley Beal’s season to end almost before it began. No one plans for multiple high‑impact injuries in the same year.
But the Clippers didn’t just get unlucky. They:
Chose to base their entire franchise around a player with a known history of leg issues.
Chose to trade away nearly all their draft capital.
Chose to layer another all‑in trade (Harden) on top of the first (George).
Chose to bet that Leonard’s availability would cooperate.
It hasn’t.
And now, every problem they face—from Ty Lue’s frustration to Harden’s heavy load to fans watching blowouts in a brand‑new arena—is tied to that fundamental miscalculation.
Kawhi’s Legacy in Los Angeles
When Leonard leaves the Clippers, whether this summer or a few years from now, his legacy there will be complicated.
On paper, he’ll leave with:
No championships.
No Finals appearances.
A string of standout individual performances overshadowed by absences and early exits.
In the bigger picture, he’ll also leave behind:
A franchise that spent everything to build around him.
A rival (Oklahoma City) supercharged by the picks and star player they gave up to do it.
A cautionary tale about betting your entire future on a player who can’t consistently control his own present.
Kawhi Leonard is still, when healthy, one of the most talented players of his generation. His runs in San Antonio and Toronto are etched into league history.
But in Los Angeles, he hasn’t been the guy who lifted a franchise.
He’s been the centerpiece of a bet that didn’t just fail—it boxed the franchise into a corner it may take years to escape.
That’s not all his fault. But it’s not just “bad luck,” either.
It’s what happens when a team puts all of its chips in the middle of the table on a hand that, for reasons everyone could see, was always more fragile than they wanted to admit.
And now Steve Ballmer, with his billion‑dollar arena and billion‑dollar ambition, is learning a lesson money can’t buy your way out of:
In the NBA, there are some mistakes even $40 billion can’t fix.
