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The Only Man Who Can Stop Steph
只有一個人可以守住Curry，他叫KD
It's March 15, and Stephen Curry is hard at work in his laboratory, firing
shots at the basket tucked in the corner of Golden State's practice facility.
Steph's hoop has been a constant since 2012, back when he lived in a loft on
the same block as the facility. Curry might change shoes at halftime if his
shot is errant, but he's never changing baskets.
The hoop is on the fifth floor of the pinkish-beige downtown Oakland
Marriott, resting above the city's attached, unassuming strip of a convention
center. Atop the beige box sits a panopticon where media and visitors stare
at the efforts of a man too focused on the rim to notice. It's a window into
the drudgery that informs the fireworks. He's sprinting through his shooting
routine with purpose, having made 25.8 percent of his 3s over his past eight
games. No matter who you are, that's not good. If you're Steph Curry, who hit
45.4 percent of his 3s last season, it's awful. SportVU tracking data says
Steph has missed 28 of his past 35 "wide open" 3-pointers. He's searching.
He's also singing.
"I am not throwing away my ... shot," Steph belts out, followed by the whoosh
of leather hitting twine. "I am not throwing away my ... shot." Another swish.
Curry has just seen Hamilton in San Francisco. Not having known much about it
going in, he was entranced by the production and has since embraced "My Shot"
as an anthem ("for obvious reasons," Steph explains with a smile).
Hamilton uses "shot" as a metaphor for opportunity. And there the parallels
between man and musical end. Alexander Hamilton, or at least the stage
version of him, is a selfish jerk whose arrogant undoing causes his wife to
belt, "I hope that you burn." Meanwhile, Curry might lead the league in
G-rated, adorable portrayals of his marriage on social media. But while he
has little in common with the Hamilton of Hamilton, after a night at the
Orpheum Theatre with his wife, Ayesha, he's feeling an ambitious ode to
reclaiming what's his.
Curry really is nice. Ask anyone in the organization. Ask anyone who's had
multiple interactions with him. As Draymond Green often says of his teammate,
"It's not a front." If "nice" is Steph's brand, it's a brand buoyed by
authenticity.
In many ways, nice built this team. It's allowed Steph to delegate powers to
others who, fortunately, have used those powers well. It's allowed him to
focus on improving himself, while leaving others to do the kinds of jobs that
augment his efforts. It's allowed the Warriors to fire Mark Jackson, against
Curry's wishes. And it allowed the team to make its biggest, boldest move of
all: force the very nice man who resurrected the franchise to marginalize
himself