Yeezys on the farm, ‘legendary’ food orders: Steven Adams a perfect fit in N.O.

Steven Adams is a very large man.

It’s probably the first thing most NBA players bring up when they’re asked to talk about the new starting center for the New Orleans Pelicans.

His 6-foot-11, 265-pound frame and long-haired caveman look make him one of the most easily identifiable players in the league.

But there’s another part of Adams that few casual fans know about: He may be one of the funniest players in the NBA.

And I don’t mean Dwight Howard fart joke funny or Tyler Herro meme generator funny. Almost every time Adams steps in front of a microphone, he provides some kind of laugh-out-loud moment with a quick-witted remark or a self-deprecating joke.

The first time people hear Adams speak, it’s hard to believe such humor is coming from a guy who looks like he’s prepared to chokeslam someone at any moment.

Certain qualities of Adams’ personality didn’t shine through as much during the first seven seasons of his career when he was part of a small-market Oklahoma City team surrounded by transcendent stars such as Kevin Durant, Russell Westbrook and Chris Paul.

Now that Adams is in the Big Easy, where crazy personalities are the norm, I figured it would be a good time to reveal the other side of Adams, off the court.

I reached out to some of the reporters and media members who covered Adams in Oklahoma City. Each of them will tell you they’ve got stories for days about the hilarious stuff Adams has said to them on and off the record.

But for this story, I tasked them with sharing the one memory from their time around Adams that would accurately portray his one-of-a-kind personality.

Here’s what they came up with:

Yeezys on the farm

Steven Adams grew up in New Zealand working on the farm of one of his brothers. If he wasn’t a world-famous NBA player, he’d probably be a farmer. So it’s no surprise that the multimillionaire life that he’s ascended to still meshes with his rural roots.

This was in January 2020 at the Thunder’s practice facility. It was about a month after the Thunder players all wore tailored suits, courtesy of Chris Paul, to a game against the Memphis Grizzlies, and a media member jokingly asked Paul if instead of suits the team would dress in all camouflage. That was more Adams’ style.

Adams was standing on the far side of the practice floor shooting free throws. Paul asked Dennis Schroder about the idea to dress in all camo. Schroder laughed and turned the conversation to Adams, joking that Adams had one pair of shoes besides flip-flops.

Schroder yells across the court at Adams: “Steve-O, what were the ones from last year? The black ones?”

Adams: “Oh, yeah … the Yeezys.”

“Wore them on the farm. Got cow shit on them.”

OK, Adams is sponsored by Adidas, so is he getting Adidas shoes for free? Probably. But the Yeezy ranges from $200 retail to into the thousands.

To Adams, there’s little difference between a designer shoe and something to wear while navigating through fields of cow shit.

My favorite on-court Adams story involves Enes Kanter.

The two are famously friends, but Kanter was traded to the Knicks in 2018. In their first game against each other in November 2018, you could tell there would be antics. As soon as Kanter checked in, the antics started. Smiles and sly grins across the court during the national anthem. Elbows into the side at the free-throw line.

It didn’t take long for Adams to become protective of his friend. Adams had 10 points in a 37-point Thunder first quarter. Billy Donovan called Schroder to the sideline at one point and you could hear him say “run it again.”

“It” was attacking Kanter in pick-and-roll.

After Adams pivoted and dunked on his Stache Brother, he gave him a left forearm to the midsection. But Adams had seen enough.

During a stoppage, Adams walked over to the scorer’s table where Knicks coach David Fizdale was standing. In Oklahoma City, some of the media sit two rows from the court, which gives us the rare opportunity to hear players and coaches.

With not a hint of sarcasm, Adams told Fizdale “sub him out. He can’t play defense. He can’t play pick-and-roll.”

Press row was doubled over. Fizdale found it funny, too. Adams wasn’t laughing.

Adams is a professional who will ensure that he does whatever he can to help the team. Schroder said it was actually Adams who recognized what the Thunder should exploit. But it was clear in the first 10 minutes of that game that the Knicks were going to get blown out. Adams didn’t want to subject Kanter to any more embarrassment.

After the game, Adams said he was trying to get Kanter out of the game because he’s such a “bloody good player.” Adams was also trying to protect his friend.

— Erik Horne

(Garrett Ellwood / NBAE via Getty Images)

‘Forever committed to the bit’

Here’s a tip for any journalist who may cover Adams, or for any fan who may enjoy watching his interviews: If he asks a reporter to rephrase a question, he’s not being condescending. He’s probably trying to answer in the best way possible. He doesn’t use cliches often. If he asks you to rephrase more than once, chances are, you’re asking a bad question. It’s happened to all of us.

He has opinions on our story ideas, too.

Back when I was on the Thunder beat, I went to him with an idea. I had learned that after he first came into the league, he studied the jump-ball-tossing forms of referees, like a batter breaking down a pitcher’s windup. He figured it would give him an advantage against less prepared centers. Who else would better know how to anticipate the exact moment when Ken Mauer, a ref of notoriously quirky form, would release a jump ball? I checked the numbers. Turns out, it was working — even if being good at jump balls is on the fringe of being a worthless talent. Adams had won a little more than 70 percent of his jump balls that season.

So, after gathering my anecdotes and stats, I approached him in the locker room for an interview. He asked what the story was about. I told him jump balls.

“That’s a shit story, mate,” he said. “Jump balls?! That’s boring.”

He did the interview anyway, giving me smart, thoughtful answers every time but not without ending every response with something along the lines of, “But no one cares about this, anyway” or, once, “I can’t believe you’re going to write this.”

But that’s Steven: Willing to answer everything and also forever committed to the bit.

It turned out, by the way, that he was wrong how much people would care. I told him a couple of weeks later that the jump ball story ended up being one of my most widely read ones of the season. He didn’t hesitate one second before retorting, “That’s bullshit.”

Forever committed to the bit.

— Fred Katz

‘His restaurant orders are legendary’

I covered Steven Adams the rookie. I remember not knowing too much about him when he arrived for his first Oklahoma City press conference. He had a tight haircut, no tattoos and a well-tailored suit. Boyish. Nothing like the dude you see today.

But the gold tooth was winking out of the left side of his mouth. Hmm, I remember thinking. That’s different. There’s probably more to this guy.

There was. The tough New Zealand background. The family history. His 17 siblings. His sister, Valerie, who is maybe the greatest women’s shot-putter in Olympic history.

I remember when NBA veterans like Vince Carter kept slugging him because of his rare rookie physicality. He got like four dudes ejected (including Zach Randolph for a Game 7!) and I asked him why he never responded to the retaliation.

“Have you seen my sister, bro?” he answered.

He was different. The material aspects of the NBA lifestyle never appealed to him. It’s why he enjoyed Oklahoma City. He was frugal with his money. His appearance changed a ton those first few years. He grew his hair out and later said it was because he didn’t want to pay for haircuts. He started rocking the camo jackets. The arm tattoo expanded every offseason. I felt like he really became himself in those first few NBA years.

As a rookie, he knew so little about the league. The Thunder were playing a preseason game against the Bulls. Adams and Kevin Durant were walking back to the court after a timeout. Adams started walking toward Mike Dunleavy instead of Joakim Noah, assuming Dunleavy (pretty tall) was the center. Durant had to tell him that, no, Noah was his assignment.

But I always thought that helped him early on. He was never spooked of the stage or awed by the opponent. This wasn’t a profession he’d always fantasized about. He was dedicated to the job, but it was a job. He was there to clock in and execute his assignment, not bask in everything else.

The conversations, on and off the record, were always funny. He’d grill me about my airline points or provide curious observations about American culture. His restaurant orders are legendary. Four entrees to fill him up. I hear he can chug a beer faster than anyone in the league.

But it’s that rugged toughness I’ll always remember most. It defines his career. He occasionally gets excruciating migraine headaches that make him dizzy and nauseous. He got one before Game 6 of the West semis in his third season. Most of his teammates didn’t think he was going to play. He did, had a dominant double-double to help eliminate the Spurs, outplaying Tim Duncan in Duncan’s final NBA game.

— Anthony Slater

‘Brilliant and hilarious’

From the logo to the uniforms, most things the Thunder do are pretty simple and bland, and they seem to like it that way. Let’s be honest, most media availabilities are pretty simple and bland with most NBA teams. However, one of the greatest things about Steven Adams is he will turn simple and bland on their head.

Thunder Media Day 2016. Kevin Durant is gone. It’s Westbrook’s team now, and the young Steven Adams is forced to be one of the pillars of the franchise. My goal for that media day was to get Steven Adams to do the intro to my Thunder podcast, Down to Dunk.

When I saw Steven walking down the hall, I immediately stopped him and asked if he could do the intro. He agreed. Seconds later Enes Kanter rounds the corner and Steven pulls Enes into it as well. Getting the Stache Bros for something like this was huge for a local podcast. Here is the line I gave them:

“This is Steven Adams and Enes Kanter and you are listening to the Down to Dunk Podcast.”

Simple and bland. The Thunder way. Here is what I got:

Adams: This is Steven Adams.

Kanter: and this is Kevin Dura…. Oh … sorry.

Adams: Kevin Durant?! You’re Kevin Durant mate?! Ha, good to see you! Different complexion.

Kanter: OK … let’s do it again.

Adams: This is Steven Adams …

Kanter: And this Enes Kanter …

Adams: And you’re listening to the ‘Down to Earth’ … ‘Down to Dunk? Down to Dunk Podcast.’

Kanter: OK, let’s try again. He’s Steven Adams and I’m Enes Kanter …

Adams: And you are listening to the ‘Down to Dunk Podcast.’

Kanter: Stay tuned!