Remember when you were younger and had driveway dreams of hitting the winning shot as time expired? The clock winding down, the crowd rising in anticipation, the broadcaster’s voice echoing in your head: “3, 2, 1 …”
Swish. Every time.
In real life, athletes stumble, make bad passes and occasionally miss the big one. But inside a youthful mind, every big shot is converted, every timely moment capitalized upon and every game winner splashes through the net.
For nearly two weeks, Stephen Curry embodied that fantasy.
For nearly two weeks he was a player so majestic, clutch and precise with his shooting and scoring that he might have been conjured up in the imagination of an 8-year-old on the blacktop.
Curry is not the tallest or the most athletic. He can’t jump the highest, nor is he the strongest. He was scarcely recruited and plays in the obscure Southern Conference. He is a David among Goliaths ““ undersized and overmatched. Heck, it even says so on his chest: Davidson, son of David.
Before this week, most people had never heard of Davidson or Stephen Curry. Now the sophomore is the most beloved college basketball player in America.
Curry, the son of former NBA shooting guard Dell Curry, stands at no more than 6 feet, 2 inches. He has the wiry frame of a long-distance runner. I’m not exactly sure if he can even dunk. But he is David Copperfield when he applies his offensive magic, splitting defenses with behind-the-back dribbles as if the basketball were his personal yo-yo, tricking elite defenders with fakes Stanislavski would envy and finishing at the rim with the spinning layups of a Harlem Globetrotter. His release is a Chuck Person flick of the wrist, with the accuracy of, well, his father, Dell. Curry’s big shots ““ and the ease with which he seems to make them ““ evoke the memory of Reggie Miller.
Yes, there have been more impressive performances in tournament history: Bill Walton’s 21-of-22 against Memphis, Christian Laettner’s perfect game against Kentucky, Austin Carr’s 61 points. But those three players were superstars at UCLA, Duke and Notre Dame. Curry plays at a tiny private school whose most famous basketball alumnus is Fred Hetzel. Of course, no one under the age of 60 has heard of Hetzel, who was the top pick in the 1965 NBA Draft and flamed out of the league after six seasons.
In the end, reality caught up with Curry. Critical shots against Kansas rolled off the rim. He rushed a crucial 3 on a fast break late in the game. For the first time in two weeks, he actually made us think that missing a long jump shot was an option. Credit Kansas, which wisely switched to a box-and-one defense in the second half, shadowing Curry with the taller Brandon Rush and forcing him to pass on the game’s final possession.
But this tournament is about Cinderellas and the realization of the unexpected. Curry gave us both.
In four tournament games he averaged 32 points per game. He finished the season with 162 3-point shots made, an all-time single-season record.
He outscored Wisconsin in the second half, 22-20.
With his team trailing by 15 points, he outscored Georgetown 25-22 in the final 14:24 of the game. By himself.
Against Gonzaga, with the game tied and just over a minute to play, Curry found himself open behind the 3-point line. Anyone who watched the game or had seen Davidson play this year knew Curry would bury the shot.
He did. Without hitting the rim.
Just like a driveway fantasy.
E-mail Taylor at btaylor@media.ucla.edu.