Unless you are completely oblivious during March (and without cable or having seen an entire March Madness game we nearly qualify), you have heard the name Stephen Curry, the diminutive superstar who is smashing records, has elevated virtually unheard of Davidson to the Elite Eight, and stands poised in the next hour to once again play David to Goliath Kansas. However, the used allusions of Cinderella, David, and the very word “upset” are starting to seem inappropriate given the talent which features at the forefront, Curry, son of former NBA star, Dell Curry. But the most attractive thing about Curry the Younger isn’t that he has averaged over 30 points a game in March, that his moves seem unreal as if the nation’s best defenders are moving in slow motion to his quick time, or that he looks as if he is 13 years old while LeBron James shakes his head at a reverse layup against Wisconsin I’m still trying to figure out. Plus, there have been a couple of times this season that Curry, who is averaging 34.3 ppg in the tourney, has outscored another team in a half of play. And yet the coolest thing about Curry is his character.
Take note. Every season we hear of the superstar who is facing assault charges at a bar, who took the Toyotas in exchange for signing, who smoked something or other, you get the idea. The thousands of student-athletes who work hard, study well, and display good character often fade from making headlines. But in Curry, consider the following:
- Who he points to. When he makes a shot, there is an infectious excitement and joy on his face, but I have yet to see him point to himself, to rip his shirt off after a game and hold it above his head. In fact, Curry does what I’m sure is going to become very en vogue soon–points to Mom and Dad? That’s right. Thank you, Stephen, for showing a television audience that behind you there were countless shoes to be bought, encouragements after middle school losses and being told that 5′7″ and 120 lbs. weren’t big enough for college ball, and prayers.
- What his shoes say. I read in a newspaper lead that on Curry’s shoes were written, “I can do all things,” and besides being brazened confidence, having seen the highlight films, I haven’t doubted it. But then I read on later in the article that Curry said, “Oh, that,” Curry said. “It’s Philippians 4:13. ‘I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.’ It’s always been one of my favorite Bible verses. … I realize that what I do on the floor isn’t a measure of my own strength. Having that there keeps me focused on the game, a constant reminder of who I’m playing for.” How often do you hear an athlete say that the game, his teammates, or his talent is not about himself?
- How he compares himself to his teammates. “It’s nothing special that I do,” remarked a shrugging Curry on Saturday, a practice day before the Wildcats’ Elite Eight matchup with Kansas. “I just get screens from Andrew [Lovedale] and Thomas [Sander] and other big guys down low. … When I’m open, I get the ball, and I have a lot of confidence to shoot it. Nothing special that I’m doing.”
- The advice that he would give to kids. “Don’t play for anybody other than your family, or God, or whatever you believe in,” Curry said when asked if he had any advice to offer. “It’s easy to get caught up in playing for the crowd, trying to play a game you’re not capable of. I found myself doing that a little bit in high school and early in my college career. I try harder not to do things that are over my head, not do anything too special. I’m more of a blue-collar guy.”
- How he faces adversity. In high school, Curry was scouted by Davidson’s coach who witnessed him turn the ball over ten times but not try to make up for it. In the game against Georgetown, Curry went 1-12 before shooting the lights out. So many of us, not just athletes, seem intent on self-pity, explaining with excuses, or venting in anger at others. Curry shoots on.
Thank you, Stephen.
Nice! Thanks for this.