…Steph is the best ever. Jordan and all the other people who throw the orange ball through the ring—pfft.
The N.B.A. blessed everyone at work today with a mixtape of Steph Curry to honor his second straight MVP/being the league’s first unanimous choice. I don’t know what living in Bloomington in 1987 and winning Bon Jovi tickets off a radio contest felt like. But my guess is it felt something like watching this:
Did you get to the part where Steph is dribbling about a paper’s thickness above the ground, breaks his OWN ankles because everyone else’s are broken then step back and hits a three? Two things to note here that are kind of obvious but merit pointing out all the same while you wipe your the dentist’s chair line of drool from your chin:
- The fact that he basically was almost out of the league after his third year (ankles) is what makes it that much better…
- …The stuff he does to other professional athletes is just insane. These guys aren’t just dudes who played playground ball or extras who’re paid scale to stand around with their mouths agape on He Got Game. These are his contemporaries.
If the Warriors close out 2015-’16 hoisting the Larry O’Brien, the conversation is going to to be blahblahblah Curry vs. Jordan: The battle of the North Carolina Boys.
I think Jordan’s got three things people pretend put him above Steph present-day:
1) Jordan played the defense.
2) Jordan was first.
3) Jordan did it for a decade (plus).
…That said, if I have to pick one guy, I pick Curry over Jordan. Mostly because, I think Curry is more accessible, likable and watchable—and also Curry to date hasn’t gotten his father killed on the side of the road because of his gambling debts.
On the latter, one of my buddies recently said if you take Jordan’s highlight reel and put it next to Curry, Curry wins straight up—and that includes All-Star weekend in 19doesntfuckingmatter in Chicago where he turned a highlight into a logo. Side-by-side Curry would make Jordan look like he’s playing in slo-mo. And even Curry’s moves in slo-mo would still make His Airness have to keep his house on the market for like five more years.
Steve Kerr played with Jordan and coaches Curry. Thus far, he’s been able to paddle through the unnavigable waters of who’s better Nike’s Jumpman or Under Armour’s Shotman. He says stuff like, “different eras” but what he means is “I probably couldn’t have even made it past half court with Steph and you better believe that goes for Paxson too.”
Steph Curry right now transcends his sport. He’s too colorful for insta filters. He keeps you watching because you want to claim the moment around your children when they ask you why you didn’t do anything with your life when they realize they’re not doing anything with theirs. He’s turning TNT into a one-station lobby to shrink up the time zones.
Curry reminds me of Shaun White in his prime. Other guys before Shaun did tricks, but nobody turned more in a row since Kit De Luca to create something brand new. In that sense, Steph’s not merely a prodigy or the master. If you’re in the N.B.A., he’s the guy who tells the guy who tells you what to do—what to do. He’s as smooth as Michael McDonald crooning over all the vacation highlights to Key West:
If Jordan played the game from the air, Steph brought it back down to the ground—but oh what he does so close to the same Earth we all walk makes the rest of us realize he’s floating above it—like a hoverboard but always on fire. To paraphrase many a Warrior about what they think of their teammate (besides the fact that he’s more than just a cute daughter) they say something to the effect of, ‘It’s hard to defend someone you just want to watch.”
He’s Jiro dreaming of basketball. He’s Neo without sunglasses. He’s Dio but with another octave.
He’s…he’s—fuck it, this guy says it best: