Los Angeles is a city of stars, but the Clippers spent 40 years as the constellation nobody could find.
They were the punchline, the afterthought, the team that shared an arena with champions but never acted like one.
Then Blake Griffin flew over a Kia. Then Chris Paul threw lobs off the backboard. Then Steve Ballmer bought the team and screamed his way into relevance. And then, desperate to matter, they wrote their own ransom note, planned their own kidnapping and held themselves hostage to a man who spoke in whispers and a family member who operated in shadows.
On Wednesday, the NBA, like SEAL Team 6, threw a flash bang into the compound, cleared the boardroom, and saved them from themselves.
What remains in this carnival of carcasses and carnage, amidst the battery of bodies sprawled in the front office, is an opportunity for them to do something they failed to accomplish since the Clipper era began in 1978: win.
Eric Lambkins II
Kawhi Leonard and Jerry West talk at the Intuit Dome groundbreaking ceremony.
The prospect of a Kawhi Leonard-led crew, exploring the uncharted lands of championships and parades, was too great and enticing for the Clippers not to explore. The Clippers burned their boat.
Let's talk about the seven-year itch Clippers fans clamored for.
Seven seasons. Seven years of Leonard in a Clippers uniform. Seven years of watching a two-time Finals MVP treat the regular season like a suggestion box and the playoffs like an optional field trip.
During Leonard's tenure, the Clippers won exactly three playoff series.
Three.
The Clippers won three playoff series in seven years with a player who, in his one season in Toronto, won four playoff series on his own.
They lost in the second round in 2020, lost in the first round in 2024, lost in the first round in 2025 and in 2026 they lost in the Play-In Tournament.
They never reached the NBA Finals.
They never even sniffed a conference finals appearance.
Leonard played 35 playoff games as a Clipper, averaging 27.7 points, 8.2 rebounds and 4.8 assists.
These numbers look great on a spreadsheet and mean absolutely nothing when you're watching the second round from your couch.
Aliyah Navarro - The Sporting Tribune
LA Clippers Kawhi Leonard (2) during Media Day at The Intuit Dome on September 29, 2025 in Inglewood, Calif.
Signing Leonard was like ordering off the Wish platform—the package arrives, the box is pristine, the marketing materials are gorgeous and then you open it and realize you've been sold a paperweight with a knee brace.
Chronic injuries, repeated playoff absences, a $28 million endorsement deal with a now-bankrupt company called Aspiration that the NBA's investigation revealed was part of a "pattern of misconduct" and "multiple significant rules violations."
The Clippers didn't just sign Kawhi Leonard. They signed his medical chart, his uncle Dennis Robertson's demands and a receipt for a championship that never came.
Los Angeles eats pretenders for breakfast and spits out their bones before lunch.
The Clippers should know this better than anyone.
They clawed their way out of the laughingstock gutter during the Lob City era, when Griffin and Paul turned the franchise from a punchline into a primetime attraction.
They rose from the ashes of Donald Sterling—the man whose own greed and racism, caught on tape by Vanessa Stiviano, forced the NBA to banish him like a pariah.
The Clippers survived that catastrophe; they clung to relevance. They built something.
And then they handed the keys to a man who treated the franchise like a pit stop.
The irony is almost too delicious to digest.
Staples Center—now Crypto.com Arena, but let's be real, it'll always be Staples—added a Blaze Pizza as a dining option right as LeBron James transitioned to Los Angeles.
James, the King, the man, actually delivered.
The man who brought a championship to the Lakers in the pandemic bubble owns a stake in that same Blaze Pizza chain.
Kirby Lee/USA TODAY Sports
Following their worst postseason loss in franchise history in what could have been their final game at Crypto.com Arena, the Clippers head to Dallas for Game 6 leaning on the fact that they have been in this exact situation before.
The Clippers, meanwhile, signed a guy who couldn't stay on the court long enough to order a slice.
The Clippers went wrong because they were sloppy.
They're the new player at the high-stakes poker table; the NBA just called their bluff.
The league's investigation, conducted by the law firm Wachtell, Lipton, Rosen & Katz, found that the Clippers "affirmatively initiated off-court income opportunities" between Leonard and four team corporate sponsors: Aspiration Partners, Boingo Wireless, Daktronics and Lockton Insurance.
They "facilitated endorsement agreements" between these companies and Leonard. They "induced the companies to enter into these agreements by offering them business from the team." They paid "personal expenses on behalf of Mr. Leonard and his representatives." And they failed to report "improper solicitations for off-court income opportunities" made on Leonard's behalf through his then-business manager, Dennis Robertson.
Translation: The Clippers didn't just break the rules.
They wrote the rulebook on how to break the rules, then handed it to the league with a bow on top.
The penalties are biblical in their brutality.
The Clippers now forfeit five first-round draft picks—one in each of the 2029, 2030, 2031, 2032 and 2033 NBA Drafts, and a $30 million fine—the largest in league history.
Kirby Lee-USA TODAY Sports
LA Clippers owner Steve Ballmer watches the game against the Oklahoma City Thunder at Crypto.com Arena.
Ballmer is suspended from all league and team activities for one year "for knowingly seeking to help Mr. Leonard obtain off-court income opportunities."
President of Business Operations Gillian Zucker is suspended without pay for one year for providing "false and misleading statements to investigators."
President of Basketball Operations Lawrence Frank is suspended without pay for six months.
Leonard himself must pay the league $700,000.
Dennis Robertson is banned from conducting business with NBA teams for five years, and the Clippers organization is subject to a compliance and monitoring program overseen by the league for five years.
Commissioner Adam Silver said it best: "I am deeply disappointed by the flagrant violations of our rules and by the Clippers' institutional and leadership failures that led to this misconduct. The severity of the penalties reflects the seriousness of the violations."
The Clippers, in their infinite wisdom, responded by calling the investigation "a heavily biased investigation seeking to justify a predetermined narrative." They vowed to "vigorously challenge these findings and penalties through every avenue available." Ballmer's attorney David Kelley called it "a witch hunt."
Michael Lasquero - The Sporting Tribune
Clippers head coach Tyronn Lue yells instructions during the Clippers-Warriors game in Honolulu on October 5, 2024.
Here's the thing about witch hunts: usually, there's a witch.
This entire ordeal is a cautionary tale about hubris and ego.
The Clippers thought they were smarter than the system. They thought they could hide behind the curtain of corporate sponsorships and off-the-books deals. They thought their billionaire owner could buy his way out of accountability.
They were wrong.
The Clippers are not the only team to ever make closed-door, off-the-books deals to lure a star.
On the Full Send Podcast, Shaquille O'Neal detailed the conversations he had with the late Jerry West in their 1996 hotel meeting.
O'Neal demanded $150 million in free agency; West countered with $120 million from the team, plus extra movie and off-the-court deals that brought the total package to $180 million.
The pitch included trading Vlade Divac to clear cap space and acquiring a young Kobe Bryant, promising O'Neal multiple championships.
The Lakers did it right. They were slick. They were surgical.
The Clippers were sloppy.
Rumors swirl that the Knicks and Finals MVP Jalen Brunson made a similar deal—Brunson signing a four-year, $156 million extension in 2024 when he could have waited and pursued a five-year, $270 million max contract, leaving roughly $113 million on the table. A discount so steep it makes you wonder what else was on the table.
The difference? The Lakers and Knicks played it smart.
The Clippers were sloppy.
They left a paper trail long enough to stretch from Los Angeles to New York and back again.
Kirby Lee-USA TODAY Sports
LA Clippers President of Business Operations Gillian Zucker, LA Clippers owner Steve Ballmer, NBA commissioner Adam Silver, Inglewood Mayor James Butts, Los Angeles Mayor Karen Bass, and LA Clippers mascot Chuck the Condor pose during a press conference to announce the Intuit Dome as the site of the 2026 NBA All-Star Game.
What the Clippers need now isn't a rebuild; they need a reckoning.
Here's the plan: tank, build, then leverage what no other team in the NBA has: Steve Ballmer. Leverage his massive wealth.
Ballmer has more wealth than the next five richest owners combined.
Forbes estimates his net worth at $126 billion. The Bloomberg Billionaires Index puts it at $145 billion. Some reports have it as high as $179 billion.
The man makes $30 million fines look like parking tickets; for the average American, it is the equivalent of paying a $41 fine.
Ballmer could pay the NBA's penalty and not even notice the deduction on his monthly statement.
Long-term, it would behoove the Clippers to build their revenge tour and take a Game of Thrones approach to plotting their revenge.
Build the culture, build the best development and scouting pipeline money can buy. When the time comes in 2034, they'll have draft capital, the culture, and a pissed-off and motivated billionaire who can give a U.S. Bank Tower-sized middle finger to the league by eschewing any and all regard for the salary cap and tax aprons.
Let's break down what the aprons actually are.
For the 2026-27 season, the salary cap is set at $164.961 million. The luxury tax threshold is $200.428 million.
The First Apron sits at $209.015 million; the Second Apron is $221.686 million.
The Second Apron is the most punitive luxury tax spending threshold in the NBA's Collective Bargaining Agreement. Teams that exceed it face restrictions on aggregating multiple player salaries in trades. They lose the ability to send out cash in deals. They lose access to the taxpayer midlevel exception. They cannot trade their first-round pick seven years out if they finish over the second apron in consecutive seasons. They are limited to re-signing their own free agents, signing draft picks and veteran minimum players, plus one-for-one trades where equal or lesser salary comes back. And if a team is in the second apron three times in five years, its next first-round pick moves to the end of the round.
For most teams, these penalties are crippling. For the Los Angeles Clippers, they should be a suggestion.
Ballmer could spend $500 million on player salaries, pay $300 million in luxury tax and still have enough left over to buy a small country. The luxury tax is a percentage-based penalty.
Ballmer doesn't care about percentages; he cares about winning.
Kirby Lee-USA TODAY Sports
LA Clippers owner Steve Ballmer speaks at a topping off ceremony for the raising of the final steel beam at the Intuit Dome. The arena is scheduled to be completed in 2024.
The Clippers should treat the salary cap like a suggestion box and the tax aprons like speed bumps.
They should sign every free agent they want. They should trade for every disgruntled star. They should offer max contracts to role players.
They should build a roster so expensive, so absurdly luxurious, that the league office has to create a new tax bracket just to keep up.
The NBA can take their draft picks. They can fine them $30 million. They can suspend Ballmer for a year.
But they cannot stop Ballmer from spending.
They cannot stop a motivated billionaire from turning the salary cap into a punchline.
The Clippers have been embarrassed; they've been punished. They've been stripped of their future.
But they have something no other team in the NBA has: a psychotic, hyper-competitive, insanely wealthy owner who has nothing left to lose.
Ballmer should take this personally.
He should treat every fine like a donation. He should treat every restriction like a challenge. He should build a scouting department that makes the Spurs look like amateurs. He should build a development program that turns second-round picks into All-Stars. He should build a culture so strong, so resilient, so spiteful, that players want to come to Los Angeles just to be part of the revenge tour.
The 2029 through 2033 draft picks are gone. The $30 million is gone. Ballmer's suspension is a year of forced vacation.
But the 2034 season is coming.
And when it does, the Clippers will have something they've never had before: a clean slate, a war chest and a billionaire who knows exactly what it feels like to be humiliated.
The league thinks they've neutered the Clippers. They think the penalties will force the franchise back into irrelevance. They think Ballmer will learn his lesson and behave.
They're wrong.
The Clippers should build their revenge tour brick by brick, pick by pick, dollar by dollar.
Scout like demons; develop like mad scientists.
They should culture-build like they're constructing a fortress.
And when the time comes—when the draft capital is stockpiled, when the pipeline is overflowing, when the culture is unbreakable—they should unleash Ballmer like a weapon of mass financial destruction.
The NBA has salary caps. The NBA has tax aprons. The NBA has penalties, fines and suspensions.
Jayne Kamin-Oncea-Imagn Images
Los Angeles Clippers forward Kawhi Leonard (2) talks with team owner Steve Ballmer during media day at Intuit Dome.
But the NBA does not have a Steve Ballmer.
The Clippers do. And that's the most dangerous thing in the league.
The Clippers were a laughingstock. They became contenders. They became captives. They became cautionary tales.
Now they have a choice: fade back into obscurity or rise from the ashes like a phoenix made of Microsoft stock and pure, unadulterated spite.
They wrote their own ransom note, planned their own kidnapping, held themselves hostage and on Wednesday, the NBA threw a flash bang into the compound and saved them from themselves.
Now it's time for the Clippers to save themselves.
Now it's time to build an armada.