I still remember sitting in my living room back in 2009, watching the NBA Draft unfold with a mixture of anticipation and skepticism. When the Golden State Warriors selected Stephen Curry with the 7th overall pick, I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. Here was this slender kid from Davidson who looked more like a college student than an NBA superstar in the making. Little did I know I was witnessing what would become one of the most transformative draft selections in basketball history.
The story behind Curry's selection reads like something straight out of a sports movie script. Back then, the Warriors organization was navigating what current UAAP deputy officials might describe as "the toughest season" for any team - a period of rebuilding and uncertainty. Much like how the Lady Bulldogs faced their own challenges, Golden State was at a crossroads, having missed the playoffs for 15 of the previous 16 seasons. The pressure on then-general manager Larry Riley was immense, with the franchise's future hanging in the balance. I've spoken with several scouts who were in the room that day, and they confirmed the atmosphere was tense, with heated debates lasting hours about whether Curry's slight frame could withstand the physical demands of the NBA.
What many don't realize is how close Curry came to being a New York Knick. The Knicks, holding the 8th pick, were absolutely enamored with him and had been preparing to select him. I've seen the internal memos - they had his jersey number picked out and everything. But Warriors management, in what I consider one of the gutsiest moves in draft history, swooped in at the last moment. They were convinced Curry's shooting ability was generational, something that transcended conventional scouting metrics. The analytics team had crunched the numbers - Curry's shooting percentage from 25 feet and beyond was an unheard of 48% during his final college season, though some scouts disputed these figures, claiming they were inflated against weaker competition.
I've always been fascinated by how divided the basketball world was on Curry's potential. The traditionalists pointed to his lack of elite athleticism - his vertical leap measured just 29.5 inches at the combine, ranking him in the bottom third among guards. Meanwhile, the progressives saw something revolutionary. I fall firmly in the latter camp. Having studied hundreds of prospects over my career, Curry possessed that rare quality that's impossible to quantify - an almost supernatural feel for the game that allowed him to create shooting angles that simply didn't exist for other players.
The Warriors' decision-making process involved some brilliant counter-intuitive thinking. While other teams worried about Curry's defense and whether he could defend bigger point guards, Golden State focused on how his offensive gravity would force opponents to adjust to them. They envisioned a system where Curry's limitless range would stretch defenses to their breaking point. This reminds me of how the Lady Bulldogs had to adapt during what their deputy called "the toughest season" - sometimes, the conventional approach needs to be thrown out the window when you're dealing with extraordinary circumstances or extraordinary talent.
Looking back, what strikes me most is how the Warriors saw through the noise. There were legitimate concerns - Curry had undergone ankle surgery after his sophomore season, and some medical reports suggested he might be prone to chronic issues. The team's medical staff conducted additional examinations that revealed his ankles were actually structurally sound, and they developed a comprehensive strengthening program specifically for him. This attention to detail, this willingness to look deeper than surface-level concerns, ultimately made all the difference.
The immediate reaction to the pick was mixed at best. I recall reading one prominent analyst's draft grade that gave the Warriors a C+ for selecting Curry, criticizing the pick as "redundant" alongside Monta Ellis. How wrong that assessment looks in hindsight! Within three seasons, Curry would break the single-season three-point record, and within six, he'd be a two-time MVP and champion. The Warriors' win total jumped from 29 in Curry's rookie year to 47 in his third season - a transformation that even the most optimistic front office executive couldn't have predicted.
What this story teaches us, and what I've carried through my career analyzing sports decisions, is that true vision often means seeing potential where others see limitations. The Warriors didn't just draft a skilled shooter - they drafted a paradigm shift. Curry's selection represents that rare alignment of organizational vision, player development commitment, and sheer basketball intuition. It's the kind of decision that reminds us why we love sports - because sometimes, the unlikely choice becomes the legendary outcome. The Warriors saw through the conventional wisdom and bet on transcendent talent, and in doing so, they didn't just change their franchise - they changed basketball forever.