Steph Curry
From The Atlantic on Steph Curry and the impact Davidson had on his career.
Before Stephen Curry was everything, there was Davidson
DAVIDSON, N.C. — Kevin Oleksiak, a senior for UNC Greensboro, wasn’t exactly offended Steph Curry was defending him. But he certainly noticed who wasn’t defending him.
Max Paulhus Gosselin, a 6-foot-6 wing who eventually was named the Southern Conference Defensive Player of the Year, was who Davidson put on the opponent’s best perimeter player. And he was defending Mikko Koivisto, Greensboro’s other guard. Which meant Oleksiak had Curry, a smaller and thinner sophomore, in front of him.
“They obviously think Mikko is more of a threat than me,” said the 6-4 guard from Pennsylvania. “I’m gonna come out and be extra aggressive.”
Oleksiak made his first seven shots, punishing the Davidson defense as Greensboro built a 20-point first-half lead. Fleming Gym was rocking this night, Feb. 13, 2008. See, Davidson came to town on a 13-game win streak. They had competitive losses to No. 1 North Carolina, Duke, UCLA and North Carolina State on their non-conference schedule. So Davidson was well groomed and ripping through its SoCon slate.
Something happened with the Wildcats’ one-and-a-half-hour trip to Greensboro. The bus arrived late and impacted their warmups. The whole team started cold. Greensboro went into the locker room feeling like the hype of Davidson, and Curry, wasn’t justified. Oleksiak was feeling like this was his night.
“And then that second half,” Oleksiak said, “he took over. In that second half, he was just like, ‘I’m on a different level than everyone else on this court. Hey, everyone, get on my back. I’m gonna win this.’”
Curry scored 23 in the second half and finished with a then-career-high 41. He scored 15 during a 24-5 run as Davidson roared back for their 14th straight win.
“So I think that was when we were like, ‘Alright. This guy actually is pretty special.”
Before elevating Golden State’s moribund franchise. Before becoming an MVP and capturing the imagination of the sport. Before becoming a champion. Before the debates about where he ranks among the greats. Before becoming a global icon and admired citizen. Before — “Finally,” athletic director Chris Clunie said — becoming a Finals MVP and stamping his legend. There was Davidson.
Some 20 miles north of Charlotte, ever so fittingly off Exit 30 on I-77, is 665 acres of manicured grass, fancy brick buildings and antebellum homes, all embedded in trees that whistle from the winds off nearby Lake Norman, where the superhero figure got his superpowers. Where young adults congregate at burger joints and dorm lounges for fun. Where one-lane roads, jogging neighbors and elders with warm eyes remind that leisure is the local pace. Where the dress code is comfortable and the vibe affluent. Where small-town smiles and kind gestures seek to compensate for rampant privilege and lacking diversity. Where jocks and geniuses, artists and activists, are indoctrinated alike with values of service and community steeped in the school’s Presbyterian heritage and liberal arts bent. Where red is an emotion and a statement as much as a color. Where, unbeknownst to everyone, the foundation of an NBA legend was being laid.
Wednesday, he was back. Curry was welcomed by No. 30 jerseys and spray-painted greetings on white sheets hanging from porches and trees. He was serenaded by a packed Belk Arena, buzzing with students geeked that this Warrior is also a Wildcat and alum, who still awe at the prestige he’s delivered since 2008. He was anointed as their favored son, beloved brother and embodiment of every ideal crammed into their mission statement.
“Everybody sees the polished, finished product on the court,” Curry said. “They see these Finals runs. They see the impact I try to have off the floor. But I think these are moments to reflect on where it all started.”
In front of his wife, whom he called 13 years ago crying, torn over whether to stay swaddled in one more year of Davidson love or be an NBA lottery pick. In front of his three children, all old enough to remember the cherishing of his dad. In front of his parents, fighting back tears born of pride in a son who continues to impress. In front of old friends and former teammates who make sure the celebrity knows he’s one of the guys. In front of teachers who supported and prodded him.
The 3-point king was the honoree in a three-part celebration. The first was a full graduation ceremony, with a procession and all, for the lone and most famous graduate, to give him his Bachelor of Arts degree in sociology. The second was his induction into the Davidson Sports Hall of Fame, which came with a gold medal medallion on a red ribbon. The third was to put No. 30 in the rafters, never to be worn again, the school’s first and only retired number for any sport.
Davidson is where his confidence on the court hit puberty. Davidson is where he learned to blend his individual brilliance with a team motif. Davidson is where it became clear the road to greatness has no shortcuts and no chauffeurs — a lesson that started taking root after his first practice when he got kicked out for being late and trying to sneak in like he wasn’t. Davidson is where he was constantly reminded of the resilience needed to finish what he started, the spirit that kept him tethered to the Warriors through the rough early years and eventually earned him his college degree. Davidson is where he was first fitted for stardom, and learned to tailor his special brand of celebrity to include humility and purpose.
It wasn’t lost on Curry, as love from some 5,000 people took his breath away, the value of this place, which prompted him to send thank you cards to alums after he was drafted No. 7 overall in 2009. It’s instantly recognizable, the role this community had in shaping the face of the NBA.
After committing 13 turnovers in his first college game, a home win over Eastern Michigan, Davidson coach Bob McKillop played his true freshman 35 minutes the next day. Against Michigan. In Ann Arbor.
He took 15 threes in that game, the second of his college career. In his sixth game, he took 20, making nine against Colby. The audaciousness sprouted at Davidson.
“One thing I like about him,” said Dontaye Draper, a guard for College of Charleston who faced Curry three times, “he was little, but he was fearless. He’d miss like four in a row and come right back and make the next one. He didn’t care.”
Google “Stephen Curry I love the commons” and see the origins of the jovial celebrations and willing self-deprecation.
“So all of that has given me a sense of gratitude, a sense of work ethic, a sense of running my own race,” Curry said. “I don’t know what it would look like if I went anywhere else. If I went to a high (Division I), or a power-conference school. I don’t know what my career would have looked like. But I do know that I got to come here and, again, just blossom at my own pace and had the confidence of a coach that really felt like I could be that guy.”
The Wildcats had put together back-to-back 20-win seasons and made the 2006 NCAA Tournament when Curry arrived on campus. Everyone knew he was Dell Curry’s kid. But he hardly invoked fear in opponents. His 6-3, 185 pounds felt like a generous listing when he walked on the court.
His 32 points and nine rebounds at Michigan made it clear he was a good player. And he almost immediately tormented defenses with his off-ball movement and quick release. But back then, in 2006-07, Draper was more the guard that worried defenses. He was a 5-foot-10 athletic type, tough like his Baltimore hometown and quick. He spent the summer working out with Carmelo Anthony and new College of Charleston coach Bobby Cremins, the longtime Georgia Tech coach, moved Draper to off guard so he could attack more. He came into his senior season, Curry’s freshman year, looking to get to the NCAA Tournament on his last dance. Draper put up 38 in the conference semifinal and was one win away.
But like so many others, Draper had his hopes splashed away. In the SoCon title game, Curry had 29 points to lift the Wildcats back into the tournament.
“Davidson, they play smart, the right way,” said Draper, who played more than a decade overseas. “And they literally come down and do the same exact thing every time. The point guard dribbles all the way to the free-throw line, and they got Steph and those guys coming off screens. You couldn’t make mistakes against them and we made a few mistakes. Steph had a big 3. I remember that.”
When Draper graduated and started his pro career, Curry was but a good player in a great program. But people he knew that kept tabs on the conference kept telling him sophomore Curry was different.
A year later, he ended Oleksiak’s college career in the conference semifinals with a 26-point game, then dropped 23 in a win over Elon in the championship game. What followed was the tournament run that would initiate the legend. It would lead to national prominence for Davidson. And a move to the Atlantic 10 conference. And no doubt more red Davidson jersey sales than ever before.
And that led to the NBA success. The permanent alteration of basketball. The historic dynasty. And the full-circle moment on Wednesday, on the court he and his wife donated in honor of McKillop, when he got the flowers he waited 13 years to receive.
That’s how this thing was built — gradually, element by element, until the bedrock was in place. No one foresaw an NBA superstar would emerge from those humble beginnings. Those who saw him early say anyone who claims to have predicted this from Curry is lying. But looking back, those are Davidson bricks at the base.
“This is an absolutely amazing day,” Curry said. “An amazing moment for myself, for my family. Heard a lot of amazing words and stories and memories from childhood to high school, to the best decision I ever made — to come to Davidson College and pursue an amazing education.”
Oleksiak still gets a bit of a sting whenever he hears or sees Davidson, the rival that deprived him of glory. Even though Curry was a primary reason, he can’t help but feel the opposite about the former Davidson star. Even in losing to Curry, Oleksiak was rewarded. His father, Kevin, never let anyone forget his son scored 26 points against Stephen Curry. His co-workers, his friends, anyone who would listen, heard him brag about his son’s great college game against a future legend. He even showed them pictures of his boy matched up with Curry.
Oleksiak’s father died a couple of months ago. The grief is still raw. The disbelief was still present. But Wednesday, as Curry was honored with a trifecta, it gave reason to remember where his journey began. At Davidson. Curry’s jersey retirement, Hall of Fame induction and solo graduation was a reminder to Oleksiak that he was a small part in Curry’s miraculous rise, yet big enough to make his father proud.