Three days after Stephen Curry’s unforgettable performance in the NBA All-Star Game, the chatter continues, with folks of all ages, hues and genders still shaking their heads in disbelief.
Such buzz is glowing testimony to Steph’s status among colleagues and observers. Well. Good.
And it covers but a fraction of his cultural impact.
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That’s something that goes far beyond the relatively narrow confines of the world’s greatest basketball league.
Curry is better at selling his game, and promoting sports in general, than any individual on a widely popular American team sport. He’s better at it than Michael Jordan or Tom Brady ever were, better at it than LeBron James or Patrick Mahomes are, better at it than any recent baseball star was or any current baseball star will ever be.
To find a close comparison to Curry’s impact on culture, one must dive into our sports history. Go back to the early 1950s, when an effervescent youngster named Willie Mays, nicknamed “The Say Hey Kid,” made baseball so seductive that millions fell in love with it.
The sight of Mays hitting home runs, dancing around the basepaths, sprinting out from under his cap while chasing fly balls – and happily playing stickball with kids on the streets of New York – persuaded many who didn’t care about baseball to suddenly want a glove or a bat or a ticket. Or simply watch in amazement.
Golden State Warriors
Curry, however, has a much broader canvas. The global population has grown three-fold. Social media runs (and sometimes ruins) lives. Access to high-quality video, via TV or streaming, is common in the wireless world. Then, too, baseball has faded, with basketball filling much of its vacuum. Steph’s stage.
“This guy is from a different planet,” said James, speaking after Curry’s 50-point show in the All-Star Game on Sunday.
The essence of Curry’s allure is not his remarkable shooting. That’s merely the hook. The welcoming. His comfort and ease with launching from silly distances is spellbinding and among several reasons the Warriors superstar could have written his Hall of Fame speech three or four years ago.
But the secret to Curry’s magical presence, which sets him apart, is the joy. It’s pure. Uncut. Childlike.
While so many of today’s sports stars rarely allow themselves to express unrestrained delight, Steph’s animated glee in the wake of momentary magical achievement – by him or by a teammate – radiates like no other. Coming from such a cherubic mug, his genuine jubilance in those moments conveys a ray of warmth.
After three or four consecutive deep shots splash down, it becomes a spiritual event captivating everyone in the building, home or away. Or watching on a screen.
Steph is why so many middle-aged basketball fans outside the Bay Area look forward to seeing the Warriors come to town. He’s why millennials make specific trips to specific venues around the country. He’s why grandmothers and grandfathers will sit and watch NBA basketball for a couple hours – and not watch another game until he’s in it.
Curry is why, despite the Warriors missing the playoffs the last two seasons, precisely half of their games in 2021-22 were funneled to national TV, via TNT or ESPN or ABC or NBA TV.
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ESPN’s Stephen A. Smith this week referred to Curry as “the face of the league.” I don’t always agree with Smith, and I only partially agree this time. It’s a fair assessment, accurate enough, but insufficient insofar as Steph is the face of a culture.
“Underrated.” That’s the word that never leaves the recesses of Curry’s mind. A three-star prep recruit ignored by all major and most mid-majors. Even Virginia Tech, where his parents attended and played sports, closed the door.
A real Curry fan knows that story, too, and knowing he responded to those snubs with a legendary NBA career is inspirational.
Mays sent youngsters, particularly Black kids, running to sandlots across America in the 1950s and ‘60s. When baseball was by far our most popular team sport, his on-field charisma made him the brightest among dozens of stars who themselves became legends.
Though Steph in sum is so much more, his impact on society is most visible on any basketball court, in any state, regardless of the age or race or gender of those dribbling and shooting. But it’s also felt in technology and other ventures, emboldening underdogs to believe they can overcome.
They told Steph he couldn’t do it. Look at him now.
That’s the power of David beating Goliaths. Repeatedly. And always with a smile.