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Stephen Curry isn’t leaving the Golden State Warriors, and Joe Lacob isn’t letting him walk. How the two parties come together on a new contract extension — which Curry is now eligible to sign — is somewhat trivial because of these truths; because of this hard-earned trust between the star player and the only organization he’s ever known. This isn’t LeBron James leaving Cleveland in a smoldering heap of Comic Sans. It isn’t Kevin Durant packing up his burner accounts for the next shiny thing. In a mercenary league built on disloyalty and wandering eyes, this marriage is still rock solid. Because, like in all good marriages, both sides understand that they need each other. And both are willing to work to make the most of things. (Even if one side never really seems to come through in those efforts.) By hanging around in the Bay, Curry gets the rarest prize in basketball: untouchable, one-team deity status. The Warriors, meanwhile, get to print money and pretend they’re still relevant. They’re tethered at the hip. Apologies to your favorite basketball influencers — any suggestion to the contrary just comes across as misinformed. Yes, Curry is entering the final year of his contract. And under the NBA’s new collective bargaining agreement, contract extensions are rightly treated like ticking time bombs. Like in the European soccer transfer market, a year to go on a contract is, effectively, free agency. Everyone assumes the superstar will bolt, other front offices will scheme and do some back-room meetings with power brokers, and locker rooms take up permanent residence on the brink. But those are other teams’ problems, with other superstars. There is actual, honest trust between player and “employer” here. That trust wasn’t handed out like promotional rally towels. It was earned in blood, sweat and rings. Curry knows what he’s doing. At 38, he’s not looking to chase rings as a mercenary — a sharpshooter for hire. Winning a fifth ring somewhere else adds a footnote. It’s one hell of a footnote, to be fair, but a footnote nevertheless. (Another ring in the Bay, though? Implausible, but also a top-line mention in his prodigious legacy.) Staying in the Bay and retiring as the greatest Warrior who ever drew breath will outlive our grandkids. You don’t gamble away the Jerry West or Kobe Bryant mantle just to go lose in the second round for another franchise. Lacob and Mike Dunleavy Jr. aren’t stupid either. What does Curry give them? Everything: Sold-out lower bowls at prices usually reserved for buying a used Honda Civic. National television slots. And most importantly, he gives an otherwise mediocre operation an aura of respectability it hasn’t truly earned lately. The Warriors won 37 games last year. Curry is the paint that covers the dry rot. Strip him away, and all the empty vests who pay for those up-close seats will be recreating their Silicon Valley Bank run with their Warriors premium seat licenses. The question isn’t whether Curry signs. It’s simply how he wants to be paid. Does he take the money right now? Does he wait a beat to give Dunleavy the flexibility to try some things for the next 10 months? Whatever the number, it’s going to be staggering. Obscene, really. One might even call it unconscionable. It’ll turn millions into a rounding error. At the same time, if that’s market rate, you can’t say Curry isn’t worth it. He basically funded Chase Center and filled it with banners with that absurd four-year, $44 million bargain he signed with loose ankles. Consider his next contract delayed back pay for birthing an empire. And if Curry waits? That’s not drama; that’s strategy. Collective strategy. Waiting gives Golden State the room to make a decision on extending Brandin Podziemski without needing to worry about the luxury tax. It sets up serious, perhaps even useful payroll flexibility when Jimmy Butler’s deal runs out, leaving cash on the table to hunt a different, younger secondary star. In the meantime, Curry has Steve Kerr in his corner and he still has Draymond Green around to tackle anyone who looks at him sideways. Sure, this roster lacks top-end juice. But there’s some useful depth, and in this modern, parity-obsessed NBA, perhaps that’s the right path. A little health and a deep rotation might give this team a winning record a puncher’s chance in the spring. Or they might slip right back into the play-in sludge. Either way, Curry isn’t packing his bags. Both sides know the ending to this non-saga. Curry trusts the Warriors will do right by him if he opts to wait, just as they did Green this past offseason. The Warriors trust that Curry isn’t on Roundball Tinder, swiping right on a new team behind their backs. The dynasty might be faded, but the partnership isn’t going anywhere. At some point — whenever Curry wants, frankly — he’ll sign the extension, take the hundreds of millions, and enjoy the sunset. Everything else in the NBA is frantic. But with something as rare as Steph and the Warriors? There’s simply no need to rush.