It has never been easy to root for the Clippers, the “other” NBA team in Los Angeles that’s been synonymous with frustration, scandal and failure for much of its 56-year history. But after the franchise and its billionaire owner were busted in one of pro basketball’s worst cheating schemes, being a fan is harder than ever.
The actual product on the court is bad enough: Off to a 2-7 start, the Clippers will be lucky to win 30 of their 82 games this season. But things stand to be terrible for a lot longer after owner Steve Ballmer, and a couple other team higher-ups, secretly funneled millions of dollars to a superstar player, a scandal Pablo Torre exposed on his podcast in September 2025.
Golden State is a reader-supported nonprofit publication. Help us remain independent with a tax-deductible donation.
In response, the NBA commissioned its own investigation and in September announced the harshest penalty in league history for circumventing its sacrosanct salary cap. The Clippers will lose five first-round draft picks, a devastating punishment that means it could be a full decade until they even have a chance to be a legit contender again.
And yet, I’m sticking with the team. I would never transfer my allegiance to the Lakers, whose 17 NBA titles is 17 more than the Clippers have won. I have spent decades going to Clippers games, suffering through the lean years and raising my kids as Clippers fans, tantamount to child abuse for some basketball fans.
Besides, the cheating scandal is only the second-darkest moment in franchise history. In 2014, after a brief period of on-the-court success driven by stars Blake Griffin and Chris Paul — which I remember well because friends started actually wanting to go to Clippers games with me — TMZ released an audio recording of miserly owner Donald Sterling making horrifyingly racist comments to his girlfriend. Within weeks, NBA Commissioner Adam Silver banned Sterling for life from the league.
Dan Morain
Months later, the team was sold to Ballmer for a then-astronomical $2 billion. The former Microsoft CEO immediately poured money into the team and would go on to spend another $2 billion building Intuit Dome in Inglewood, an arena with perfect basketball sightlines and, as he gushed at a 2023 ceremony, “Toilets! 1,160 toilets, urinals! Three times the NBA average number!”
His investments paid off: The team has compiled 15 consecutive winning seasons, a streak unmatched in franchise history. But the owner’s quest for a championship was anchored on luring superstar forward Kawhi Leonard from the Toronto Raptors in 2019, just after that team won its first NBA title. To do so, and then to extend his contract in 2021, the Clippers would direct tens of millions of dollars to Leonard — beyond his contract pay — through four off-court sponsorship deals. Unlike just about every endorsement agreement, these were never publicly announced, and Leonard provided few if any services. The full details are spelled out in a 35-page report commissioned by the NBA.
This scheme violated the NBA’s salary cap, which ensures competitive balance between all 30 small- and large-market teams. That cap is one of the reasons a team from Oklahoma City (population 719,000) can win the championship one year, immediately followed by the New York Knicks in 2026.
Paul Thornton
The NBA’s punishment was brutal: Ballmer was suspended for a year (he can’t even attend Clippers games), two other executives were suspended for six months, and the team paid a $30-million fine. Worst was forfeiting the five draft picks, which is sort of like drinking basketball hemlock: First-round picks are any team’s best tool to select a young star or trade for an older one.
Leonard was shipped back to Toronto. There’s little hope.
But we Clippers fans are an odd bunch. We all know that Los Angeles is a Lakers town, a team with all-time greats known only by their first names: Wilt, Kareem, Magic, Shaq, Kobe, Lebron and now Luka. And it certainly isn’t winning that brought us on board: The Clippers have never been to an NBA Finals, let alone won one.
I’m an accidental fan. In the early 2000s, a friend started taking me to games, and I became part of a group that shared season tickets. Clippers seats cost a fraction of Lakers tickets, so it was an affordable way to watch pro ball.
Golden State is a reader-supported publication. Help us stay independent by upgrading to a paid subscription.
Some of us are now turned off. “I felt like they were screwing with the integrity of the game,” said Tyler Newby, a Los Feliz film editor who’s been a fan since Griffin’s first season in 2010 (disclosure: I play basketball with Newby some Sundays). But, he added, “they’re still my team.”
It’s the same for Derrek Everette, an Atwater Village-based tattoo artist (I also ball with him on Sundays) who is used to the travails of Clipperdom.
“Every off-season there’s a scandal,” he said. “I would be surprised if we ever had a smooth off-season.”
But Everette, a fan since the 1990s, nonetheless attended the season opener in Inglewood last month with his wife. “I’m always rooting for my Clippers,” he said.
Me too. The team has always made life difficult for its fans — what’s another 10 years or so of pain?
What do you think? Golden State Report is a public forum. Send your responses for possible publication to forum@golden-state.org.
