“This feels like home.”
A simple phrase, yet for Julius Randle, it carries weight. When the Range Rover rolled to a stop outside a leafy suburban park in the Minneapolis area, the 6-foot-9 forward stepped out and took in his surroundings. In a sleeveless Timberwolves shirt, under an unusually warm mid-September sun, he smiled, stretched upward, and said those words: “This feels like home.”
It was more than just a physical statement about geography — it was a confession of relief, peace, and recovery after a turbulent chapter in New York.
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The shock, the hurt, the sudden removal
The trade that sent Randle (along with Donte DiVincenzo) to Minnesota was announced just days before the 2024–25 season, and it came as a shock — especially given how much Randle had invested in the Knicks as both a franchise cornerstone and a public face.
In his conversation with The Athletic, Randle didn’t shy away from admitting how personal it felt:
> “When I got traded, I’m like, damn, I can’t believe this got taken from me,”
“It’s like, you worked so hard to build something, and it was just snatched away.”
His wife, Kendra, was pregnant at the time, their older son was settled in school, and the family was embedded, emotionally and socially, in their New York life. To uproot that was more than a business transaction.
Randle also revealed how the end part of his Knicks tenure had become dark — mentally and emotionally. He described being in a place where he no longer enjoyed going to work, where anxiety, depression, and a sense of isolation consumed him.
At times, he retreated into a room in his apartment, watching TV in darkness, unable or unwilling to rejoin his family. He self-medicated with marijuana (which, notably, the league no longer tests for) as a coping mechanism, though he later said it was “stealing his soul.”
Kendra credits her own determination in that period — looking beyond merely being the spouse of a star athlete — as crucial in bringing Randle back. She reached out to Dr. Daniel Amen (who uses brain imaging and other neuro techniques) to help Randle understand and address his mental health struggles. That led to treatment and a new framework for coping, which he says helped him step out of the fog.
Randle himself acknowledged how important it is to have a partner who can see you at your worst, yet still remind you of who you can be. “One of the most important decisions in life is who you choose as a partner,” he said.
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Minnesota as a sanctuary, and a basketball revival
From the moment he landed in Minnesota, Randle sensed a different atmosphere.
First, there was familiarity in coaching: Chris Finch, the Timberwolves head coach, had previously been an assistant in New Orleans when Randle played there. The two already shared a rapport.
Second, Minnesota’s organizational culture, teammates, and staff made inclusion a priority. Unlike in New York, where he felt increasingly marginalized, in Minnesota he was welcomed into the fold. That support system allowed him to catch his breath, reorient, and rebuild.
Though he initially had to adjust his style (playing alongside Anthony Edwards, navigating the presence of Rudy Gobert, and accepting a more complementary playmaker/scorer role), Randle embraced the change. There would be growing pains — injuries, rust, tactical adjustments — but the trajectory was upward.
Over time his role solidified: a “point forward” of sorts, capable of creating for others while still delivering in his own scoring opportunities. His defensive flexibility (sliding between power forward and center as needed) also became an asset.
Statistically, his regular season numbers dipped relative to his Knicks peaks (18.7 points, 7.1 rebounds, 4.7 assists). But in the playoffs, when the lights shine brightest, he elevated his game: averaging 22.6 points in Round 1, 25.2 in Round 2, and playing incisive, high-impact basketball.
He was no longer chasing validation — he was helping carry a contender. And when Minnesota reached the Western Conference Finals (losing to Oklahoma City), it marked back-to-back semifinal runs for the franchise — and a vindication of the trade’s potential.
Meanwhile, the Knicks — with the benefit of draft capital and a new core — also reached the Eastern Conference Finals. In a rare outcome, the swap looked good for both sides.
Given that success, Randle made his decision: Minnesota was where he wanted to be. He declined a player option and instead agreed to a three-year, $100 million extension, matching his ambitions with long-term security.
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On joy, balance, and the future
What strikes most when reading Randle’s reflections is the contrast between the chaos he endured in New York and the clarity he now enjoys.
In Minnesota, life is calmer. The commute from his suburban home to the downtown practice facility and arena takes 10–12 minutes; in New York, a few blocks could take twice as long. The scenery is greener, households have yards, and the mental load of life feels lighter.
“I would say even this summer … is probably the happiest I’ve been in a really long time as far as just career, family, everything,” Randle said.
He no longer carries the burden of needing to be perfect every day. In New York, a bad stretch invited harsh scrutiny. In Minnesota, he said, he has the freedom to have off nights, to learn, to grow — and still be trusted.
From the family side, things have stablized. The Randles now live in a house with a yard. The children (including a new daughter, Romi) have space and routine. Kendra says Minnesota feels more “normal” compared to New York — and she has seen Julius return to the version of himself she once knew: affectionate, playful, present.
Even simple scenes — like Julius helping his son strap on flag football belts, giving lap “punishments” to kids who show up late — feel grounding and wholesome. Away from the fury of the national spotlight, he is a dad, a husband, and a professional who can breathe again.
He admits he’ll never go back to being in that dark place again: “Once you come out of that … it’s like, all right, I’m never going back to being down like that … or letting things that are out of my control worry me … I’m not gonna put myself in those situations.”
Looking ahead, Randle sees his partnership with Edwards as meaningful, his relationship with Finch as strong, and Minnesota as fertile ground for another deep playoff run. He feels aligned with the organization — both on and off the court — and free to just focus on winning.
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