Denver Is Heading Into Training Camp With One Center. That Is Not a Metaphor.
The depth chart number that should end the debate is 12%. That is the share of Denver's center production that Jonas Valanciunas accounted for last season—and it is now gone, shipped to Zalgiris Kaunas on a two-year deal signed July 15th. I have written about this departure twice already in the past week, and I keep returning to it because the front office's silence keeps making the number louder. Valanciunas was averaging 8.3 points and 4.9 rebounds on 58.2% shooting in 13.2 minutes a night across 74 games. That is not a star. That is a functioning human body that could spell Nikola Jokic without the offense collapsing. Denver no longer has one.
Here is what the depth chart actually says right now: Jokic owns 88% of the center position's production. The next option on the chart holds 12%—and that option just took a flight to Vilnius. There is no third name listed. This is not a depth concern in the abstract sense that every contender whispers about in July. This is a structural vacancy, and the gap between Jokic and whoever fills that second slot is not a crack in the foundation. It is the foundation missing a wall.
The late-season numbers made the problem visible even before Valanciunas left. In his final ten games, his minutes jumped 29% to 22.3 per game, and his shot attempts climbed from 6.8 to 9.9—yet his accuracy cratered 10.3 percentage points, from 61.8% down to 51.5%. The elevated usage was already exposing his limits. Denver was leaning on him harder precisely because Jokic was also being leaned on harder, and both were fraying simultaneously. Jokic's own shooting fell from 54.4% to 47.7% as his volume rose in that same final stretch. The backup center was not the solution to Jokic's fatigue—he was part of the same overload.
That overload context matters enormously for what comes next. Jokic logged 34.5 minutes per night across 75 games last season. For a player of his age, his build, and his position, that number is not sustainable at playoff intensity—it was already unsustainable, which is exactly what the first-round exit against Minnesota confirmed. The case for a reliable backup center was never just about having a warm body for garbage time. It was about buying Jokic five or six minutes a night where the offense does not disintegrate, where the opponent's second unit cannot simply attack the rim at will. Valanciunas, even in decline, provided that. His replacement—whoever that turns out to be—does not yet exist on this roster.
My read is that this is the single most urgent personnel decision Denver faces before training camp, more pressing than the clutch-game issues, more pressing than the Murray efficiency questions. Those problems are real—a 16-13 record in games decided by five points or fewer against a 55-28 overall mark is a genuine warning, and Murray's 39.5% shooting on 20.0 attempts per game in the final ten regular-season games is a trend that does not fix itself. But those are problems you can scheme around, adjust lineups for, build habits to address in October. A missing backup center is not a scheme problem. It is a minutes problem, and minutes have to come from somewhere. Right now, Denver does not have an answer to where they come from. Training camp is approaching, and the depth chart at center reads like a sentence with only one word.