Nuit Nuit

I do miss watching Steph Curry

From Subscriber Drew:

What do you think about the meta-conversation around this team USA run. I have seen more Americans openly rooting against team USA than I remember from previous years. I’ve also seen a lot of backlash from some fans and players towards the comments that European players are “higher iq” which has some racial subtext. What made this Olympics such a catalyst for this conversation and what are your thoughts on it?

Honestly, I didn’t notice an anti Team USA aspect, but I did see a lot of drama around Jayson Tatum’s playing time (or lack thereof). I didn’t get what the big deal was there, given his play. Tatum attempted only four 3-pointers in his 71 minutes of group stage action and while I can’t tell you exactly what went into Steve Kerr’s thinking, I know that he hates when guys won’t just shoot the open 3-pointer.

But who cares about that topic really, outside of Tatum’s family and Celtics fans? The story was Team USA triumph, powered by its Golden Generation. The story within that story was Steph Curry, delighting a unified American public, perhaps near the end of a legendary career.

I didn’t expect so many people to follow Team USA hoops, but I should have. NBC had long buried Olympic men’s basketball because they’d lost NBA TV rights in 2002. Now, lawsuits notwithstanding, they’re set to regain those rights, and so the Olympic action helps them advertise the NBA again, a la 1992. When Team USA hoops got short shrift in the past we were told that the public was but only so interested in basketball players, given America’s immense advantage. Like a rule of physics, the public was more invested in swimmers and sprinters.

Ya, no. The American public enjoys watching familiar faces on the world stage. Finally, these games were touted and fully advertised by the broadcasters. Even fans who normally hate when superstar players fraternize delighted in seeing Steph, LeBron and KD bond over experiencing what feels like a Last Dance of sorts.

We’ve been through a lot with these millennial superstars (Steph, LeBron, KD) and they’ve crossed paths quite a bit. Personally, there’s an uncanniness to watching this from my living room. I was there, on the road following the Warriors when Curry improbably became the guy. There was so much energy around the team in those days, and so much resentment and doubt over whether he and they deserved the attention.

That’s all since settled down. After the 2022 NBA Finals run, Steph Curry is a consensus top 10 player of all time. Nobody thinks he’s a choker. Nobody thinks he’s a gimmick. Most fans are just happy he’s still around.

I wasn’t sure there was much left for Steph, with his legacy secure. Thankfully, the final two Olympic games delivered huge moments, in a slightly different context than usual. The closing “Nuit Nuit” explosion against France, in France, was the rare iconic NBA player run outside of North America. It feels huge for him, and a bit unexpected.

One of the reasons I left NBA media is that I felt like I’d run out of things to say. I tried to contextualize what Steph Curry was doing at his peak, sometimes to the chagrin of other fanbases who chafed at the homerism. He was so unbelievable that describing felt like evangelizing. In the beginning, not everyone in the NBA world watched enough to be fully aware. In the middle, a lot of people were watching, but some weren’t believing their eyes. Eventually, everybody more or less got it.

I exited around that “Eventually” period, for a variety of reasons, including and especially because I couldn’t augment the experience for other people anymore. When I was young, I felt like I could really capture a moment everyone saw on television in a way that felt novel. As I got older, I tended to think, “Everyone saw that, and my description pales in comparison to that experience, so what am I even doing here?” Over time, I just came to feel sort of silly.

It was a combination of feeling insufficient to the task, but also being jaded. The rich and famous would show up to Warriors practices and gawk at Steph Curry’s shooting routine. I, like the other media there, were mostly bored in that setting. Yes, he shoots it and it goes in a lot. Did you expect something else to happen?

And you know what? Those times were boring, especially to those of us who were often around practice. But that thrilling ability to hoist a rapid fire bomb over a double team is built upon hours and hours of mundane work. Steph Curry is special not only because of what he can most famously do, but also because of what he can withstand. He can endure the daily grind, usually with a smile. He can run a marathon off the ball without getting tired, thanks in part to that routine. The guys on TNT appraise his aesthetically pleasing game as “Stephfortless,” but such ease of motion is a testament to an incredible cumulative effort.

I observe that, and yet, I still don’t completely know how he does it. What you see under the lights is real but also somehow ethereal, magical. When Steph’s on fire it’s just unlike anything else. In theory, sports is always getting “Bigger, Stronger, Faster,” and yes, better. France’s Victor Wembanyama is 7′ 4″ and plays like a guard. He’s the future. But whatever Steph Curry is, and the way it connects with people, doesn’t appear to be on the road to duplication anytime soon.

I’m glad I left the basketball scene and the grind altogether. I don’t miss it in its totality, but I do miss certain aspects. To be in the building for those moments, to feel that energy, to see a crowd thrill to Steph Curry giving them what they expected, in a way that still manages to shock. I miss being there for that, especially with the bittersweet understanding that a fully realized career has only so many seasons left. I don’t know how much longer the Steph experience goes. I just know that the entire basketball world is going to feel a similar nostalgia, if it isn’t already. He will be missed, so much so, that we already miss him. Nuit Nuit.