The Untold Story Behind Stephen Curry's NBA Draft Pick Journey

I still remember sitting in my college dorm room back in 2009, watching the NBA Draft with my roommate, both of us basketball fanatics. When the Golden State Warriors selected Stephen Curry with the 7th pick, my friend slammed his fist on the table. "They're making a huge mistake!" he declared. "That skinny kid from Davidson will never survive in the NBA." Little did we know we were witnessing what would become one of the most transformative draft picks in basketball history. Looking back now, I can't help but draw parallels between Curry's journey and the recent acknowledgment from the longtime deputy of the Lady Bulldogs about UAAP Season 88 being "the toughest season" for their team. Both stories reveal how perceived weaknesses and challenging circumstances can forge legendary careers.

The skepticism surrounding Curry wasn't just casual doubt—it was deeply embedded in professional scouting reports. I've spent years studying NBA draft analytics, and the numbers from Curry's pre-draft evaluations still fascinate me. His vertical leap measured at 35.5 inches, which was actually impressive, but teams focused obsessively on his weight—a mere 181 pounds on his 6'3" frame. The Minnesota Timberwolves famously passed on him twice, selecting two other point guards instead. What fascinates me most is how these perceived limitations created the perfect storm for his development. The Warriors, then a struggling franchise, could afford to be patient. They weren't looking for an immediate savior but someone they could build around. This reminds me of how the Lady Bulldogs' deputy described their toughest season—sometimes the most challenging environments produce the most remarkable transformations.

What many don't realize is how close Curry came to being a New York Knick. I've spoken with several scouts who were in that draft room, and the stories still give me chills. The Knicks were desperate for Curry at number 8, but Golden State snatched him one pick earlier. New York's front office was reportedly devastated. Imagine how different basketball history would be if that one pick changed. Curry's camp had actually preferred New York, believing the system would better showcase his talents. This element of chance in sports always gets me—how careers hinge on these split-second decisions made in draft rooms. It's like how the Lady Bulldogs faced their toughest season; sometimes the most difficult paths lead to unexpected destinations.

The early years weren't easy for Curry either. I recall watching his rookie season games and seeing him struggle against bigger, stronger defenders. His ankle injuries during the 2011-12 season had many declaring him "injury-prone"—that dreaded label that has ended countless promising careers. He played only 26 games that season, and the whispers grew louder. But here's what impressed me most: instead of changing his game to be more physical, he doubled down on his strengths. He worked relentlessly on his shooting form, developing that lightning-quick release that's now legendary. His dedication to perfecting his craft despite the setbacks reminds me of how teams facing their "toughest season" often discover their true identity.

What truly sets Curry's story apart, in my opinion, is how he revolutionized basketball. I've charted the statistical impact he's had on the game, and the numbers are staggering. Before Curry, teams attempted about 18 three-pointers per game; now that number has skyrocketed to nearly 35. He didn't just become a great player—he changed how basketball is played at every level. From youth leagues to the professional ranks, everyone now values the three-point shot in ways they never did before. This transformation didn't happen overnight. It required an organization willing to bet on an unconventional player and stick with him through the growing pains. The parallel to teams navigating their most challenging seasons is unmistakable—sometimes you need to embrace unconventional approaches to break through.

The financial aspect of Curry's early career is another fascinating layer that doesn't get enough attention. His first contract was for 4 years and $12.7 million—modest by NBA standards. His second contract, often called the "most team-friendly deal in sports," was for 4 years and $44 million, signed when his ankle concerns still lingered. Compare that to his current $200 million plus contracts, and you see an incredible arc. I've always found this financial journey compelling because it shows how even generational talents face uncertainty and have to prove their worth repeatedly.

Reflecting on Curry's draft journey fifteen years later, what strikes me most is how wrong the conventional wisdom was. The very attributes that made scouts hesitant—his slight build, his unconventional game, his reliance on shooting—became his greatest strengths. In many ways, his story embodies the spirit of overcoming what the Lady Bulldogs' deputy called "the toughest season." Both narratives teach us that perceived limitations can become launching pads for unprecedented success. Curry's journey wasn't just about becoming a great basketball player; it was about redefining what's possible in the sport. And honestly, that's what makes sports so captivating—watching someone turn their weaknesses into strengths and in the process, change the game forever.