It’s been 10 years since I wrote a book about the Kings. Now I can finally write an update.
The fact that my book survived a decade without becoming stale and outdated makes me happy, but I know the truth. Literary brilliance aside, the book stayed fresh because the Kings did absolutely nothing worth writing about between 2013 and 2022.
They moved into a new arena, played a bunch of games that ended in defeat, traded countless players whose names I can’t remember and fired many coaches. They shut down for the pandemic and skipped their rent payments for a few months. They missed the playoffs.
In short, they churned through life since 2013 in irrelevance and obscurity. That covers it. Hardly worth an updated edition.
My book is called “Vagrant Kings: David Stern, Kevin Johnson and the NBA’s Orphan Team.” It’s not about basketball. It’s about everything that happens to a miserable old basketball team.
The story begins in 2011 as the Kings approach their final act in Sacramento. They are poised for a familiar escape trick: make everyone hate them and leave town.
From there, the story introduces two main characters, NBA Commissioner David Stern and Mayor Kevin Johnson. The action shifts to 1945 and Edgerton Park Sports Arena in Rochester, New York, where the team is born and celebrates its greatest victories.
The rest of the book follows a linear trajectory, tracking the Kings from Rochester to Cincinnati and Kansas City and Omaha and onto Sacramento. Excursions detour into various ownership groups and fiascos such as the decision to hire Bill Russell as coach and vice president of basketball operations.
To keep pages turning, I throw in gossip from my dozen or so years as a daily Kings beat writer and sports columnist for The Bee.
There are details about how Kevin Johnson despises the Kings for skipping him in the 1987 draft. And how Kings trainer Billy Jones confirms Russell falls asleep during practice sessions.
Jonesy is loyal to coaches and never admits Russ dozes through drills. Instead, the trainer validates my suspicion with code words. “We needed an extra pot of coffee to keep everybody alert this morning,” he says.
The best material comes from my years at City Hall as Johnson’s special assistant. That’s where I witness the intensity of Stern’s determination to keep the Kings in Sacramento.
Johnson summons me into his mayoral chambers to take notes from strategy phone calls with the commissioner. Stern, who died in 2020, is famously taciturn with media and public. But he lets loose in these private discussions. My book includes brief transcripts.
Stern hates team relocations. He’s disgusted by the Maloof brothers, who own the Kings and want to move, first to Anaheim, then Seattle. But Stern works for NBA owners, which means he works for the Maloofs.
Thus conflicted, Stern guides Johnson like a schizophrenic. He threatens, soothes, swears, criticizes, pampers. For example, Stern to Johnson: “That’s your strategy, to make all these other deals and cram the Maloofs with a suppository? You take care of the doughnut and forget the hole. You have got to be kidding me.”
Conversations with Stern leave Johnson terrified. The mayor tells me, “Normal people, they get mad, they get over it. You do not want to make this guy mad. You see him sitting there all cool and calm, but underneath, he’s thinking. He’s plotting. I’m telling you, he’s not normal. He’s like Michael from ‘The Godfather.’ You do not want to mess with this guy.”
Johnson ultimately knows Stern is an ally. The commissioner wants the Kings to stay put. He dumps the Maloofs and welcomes Vivek Ranadive, a small-stakes owner of the Golden State Warriors. An arena deal with the city comes together. Stern calls the drama “the appropriate outcome.”
That’s where “Vagrant Kings” ends.
Now I have to write a new chapter, about redemption for a veteran coach and success for a miserable old basketball team. I promise to avoid instant analysis and obvious conclusions. After all, this is a story that begins in 1945. No need to rush.
R.E. Graswich can be reached at regraswich@iclould.com. Follow us on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram: @insidesacramento.
