Title: Turner’s Price
Myles Turner had given nine seasons to Indiana. Nine seasons of blocks, blood, and blue-and-gold loyalty. Through rebuilds, retools, and roster shuffles, he had remained the constant—the anchor of the paint, the voice in the locker room, and the last trace of the Pacers’ past ambitions.
But this summer, everything changed.
It wasn’t bitter. It wasn’t dramatic. Just numbers on a spreadsheet.
The Pacers had reportedly capped their offer at $22 million per year, unwilling to cross the luxury tax threshold. Not for Turner. Not now. Not when they were betting on young pieces, spacing, and cap flexibility.
To Turner, it wasn’t just about money—it was about message.
“I gave them everything,” he said privately to his agent. “And they drew the line at four million?”
He didn’t complain publicly. That wasn’t his style. But after years of being the defensive backbone, the floor-spacing big man who adapted his game year after year, the message was clear: loyalty had limits.
Enter Milwaukee.
The Bucks weren’t just contenders—they were hunters. After a brutal second-round exit and rumors swirling around the aging core, they wanted fresh energy, rim protection, and a stretch five to flank Giannis. They wanted Turner.
And they were willing to pay: $26 million per year. Fully guaranteed. No games. No hesitation.
The call came in on a quiet Tuesday.
“We believe in what you bring, Myles,” Bucks GM Jon Horst said. “You’re the piece we’ve been missing. We’re not asking you to prove yourself. We’re asking you to help us win now.”
Turner didn’t hesitate.
By Friday, it was done. Four years, $104 million. Milwaukee green and cream. No more waiting for Indiana to value what had been in front of them for nearly a decade.
The reaction was swift.
Pacers fans were split—some understood, others were heartbroken. Social media flooded with thank-you videos, highlight reels of his signature blocks, and screenshots of Turner calmly drilling threes at Gainbridge Fieldhouse.
Indiana media pressed the front office.
“Was it really about $4 million?”
GM Chad Buchanan stayed diplomatic. “We loved Myles. Still do. But we’re committed to our financial flexibility and building sustainably.”
Translation? He wasn’t worth the tax.
In Milwaukee, Turner arrived with a chip on his shoulder. Training camp hadn’t even started and Giannis was already texting him film clips. “This is where you eat,” one message read, showing Turner slipping screens for wide-open corner threes.
The Bucks unveiled him in a slick black-and-gold alternate jersey at a packed press conference.
“You’ll see a new version of me,” Turner said to reporters. “But make no mistake—I’ll never forget where I came from. Or how it ended.”
The season ahead was loaded with headlines: Turner vs. Indiana. Pacers visiting Milwaukee. Blocked shots. Revenge dunks.
But underneath all of it was a simple truth: Turner didn’t leave Indy for money.
He left because they wouldn’t cross a line.
Milwaukee did.
And now, Myles Turner was ready to make them all pay for it—four million dollars at a time.
Let me know if you’d like this expanded into a full article-style piece or turned into a press release from the Bucks.
