Steph's greatest ability

Well, his second greatest ability.

Morning.

The Golden State Warriors are back in the NBA Finals after their 4-1 series win over the Dallas Mavericks, a series in which the Warriors had an excellent gameplan to limit and punish the Mavs’ 5-out Luka-centric attack, and then executed said gameplan beautifully. Stephen Curry won the first inaugural Magic Johnson Western Conference Finals MVP Award unanimously; it was well-deserved.

Golden State Warriors @warriors

Number 30 Stephen Curry Western Conference Finals MVP

Steph averaged 24-7-7 on 44/44/84 shooting splits. Yes, he shot 44% from three in the Western Conference Finals and it still feels like he has another level of three-point efficacy he can hit. He is without question or debate the greatest shooter in NBA history. That is his greatest skill. It’s basic and maybe boring but obvious.

I’d argue that his second best skill is his willingness to fit in with a team of high-quality players despite being the best of them (or in the case of the 2017-19 Warriors, 1B) without ego that disrupts the fine balance of team chemistry. His ability to know how great a player he is but to still allow someone else to take big shots, someone else to be the vocal team leader, someone else to be celebrated.

All stars (almost all stars) have some of this. Steph is this. The comparison point is Tim Duncan, right? But Duncan was a big man — big men always take a backseat to guards or wings in terms of stardom (though Nikola Jokic and Joel Embiid are rewriting that — I’m considering Giannis a wing for this thought exercise). Duncan also seemed to eschew fame, for whatever reason. He didn’t like talking to cameras, he didn’t appear in a ton of ad campaigns, he didn’t let fans into his life. Steph’s the opposite. He has more endorsements than I can list off the top of my head, he’s the executive producer of a network TV show about extreme miniature golf and he often makes appearances on said show, he’s extremely well known and the most exciting NBA player (maybe American athlete period) overall from 2014 to the present.

And yet, he has never tried to dominate the Warriors, consciously or otherwise. He lets Draymond Green be the voice of the team. In Game 5 on Thursday, Steph didn’t really have it … so he deferred to Klay Thompson, who took 25 shots to Curry’s 17. Steph’s whole postgame vibe seemed intent on celebrating Thompson’s incredible injury comeback as well as the significant impacts of newer arrivals Andrew Wiggins and Jordan Poole.

Remember the drama in the KD era? Steph was n-e-v-e-r at the center of it. He was never involved. It was Durant, Green, Steve Kerr and the front office. It was Draymond being Draymond, trying to hold Durant accountable, Durant being less-than-willing to accept said accountability demands from a lesser player (with maybe some legitimate disagreements from two legitimate basketball geniuses causing the friction), and then Kerr and the front office trying to balance letting Draymond be Draymond without turning Durant against the franchise as he approached free agency. Steph, meanwhile, had seemingly no problem letting Draymond be Draymond or letting Durant get the glory (and two Finals MVPs). He was happy to have championship help even if it meant dings on his legacy. He was happy to have Green represent the old Warriors way in conflicts with the new guy. He basically stayed out of what we would colloquially call the “pissing contest.”

So we have essentially an 8-year run for the Warriors in which the superstar at the center throughout has never been involved in public drama with the team. He’s welcomed every roster tweak with open arms and made it work. He helped rehabilitate Andrew Wiggins, he stood in Kevin Durant’s shadow, he never questioned Draymond Green’s eccentric but effective methods, he stanned for his partner Klay Thompson, he made tons of money in endorsements, he got a tiny bit political at certain moments, he never badmouthed anyone in the Warriors or league, he won three titles and two NBA MVPs and … he’s still doing it, just the same as always, no drama and no pecking order conflict.

Steph has supreme competitive fire — his block in the closing moments of Game 5 is evidence of that — but at the same time, he legitimately seems happy to be here. That’s often lobbed as an insult to underperforming players, as if more is possible if only they would strive. That’s not how I mean it with Steph: I mean that he legitimately seems happy to be where he is: the star of the Warriors, a Bay Area legend, a champion, a member of a team, not always center stage in the spotlight, but sometimes center stage in the spotlight. Whatever. He’s cool with it.

There’s something to be said about how important that is in a team sport, and in a league where it’s so tricky to build lasting cores. Steph has never given up a dime to make the roster work, but he’s given up some limelight and some internal power (such as it is). That’s worth acknowledging and celebrating. He seems like a good, chill dude as it goes. The world could use more good, chill dudes.