How To Hate Steph Curry

Coming into the playoffs, Steph Curry was riding high. Fresh off a second consecutive MVP, this one unanimous. 73-9. Scoring titles. Loving Christian family, beautiful wife and kids. Steph Curry seemed like the closest thing to an unhateable athlete that we had ever seen. ESPN and other media outlets certainly thought so, and their over-coverage at times caused a Steph market saturation, much like we had during Linsanity and Tebowmania.

However, things started to go sour. First, Steph fell victim to injury in the 1st round. No big deal, as the Dubs easily rolled the Rockets in 5 even without the MVP. Against the Thunder, not only did the Warriors fall behind 3-1 and have to scratch and claw their way back, but the seeds of hatred were planted as soon Draymond Green planted his anger in Steven Adams' seeds. Over the next two weeks, Steph, Draymond, and even Ayesha Curry would act in a way to earn the irk of the public. In doing this, the wave of Curry hate began to lap at the wheels of the Warriors bandwagon. Unlike last year, where Curry's success was new and exciting, this year, attention and expectations hit the record-setting Warriors in a big way from the start, putting him at the same center of scrutiny as the aforementioned Lin and Tebow.

Athletes who are over-covered in this fashion become hated not because of their on-court performance, not because of anything they themselves did, but because of the media frenzy that surrounds their every move. That said, being a “hater” in this way can be fun. Sports, especially basketball, are better with a villain in the league, whether it be LeBron, Kobe, or any other polarizing athlete. 

If you consume a lot of basketball coverage, you may be like I was, frustrated with the deluge of Curry Content, happy with the Warriors choke-job, ready to hate on Steph, but unsure of where to begin. This isn’t another Tebow situation, where the skills do not match up with the depth of coverage. In fact, Steph may well be underpaid, pulling in only $11 million per year.

Running

I don’t have a clip of him doing it, because it is overlooked by many others, but if you watch Steph running without the ball, particularly getting back on defense, the seeds of dislike will begin. Focus in on this trait, and eventually it will start to anger you (but in a good way). I know this comparison has been done over and over again, but it looks like the prototypical pre-teen getting to play in the grown man’s pick-up game. The illusion will disappear as soon as he unleashes another bomb from 35 feet, but for a few glorious seconds, Steph is just the scrawny awkward kid on the men’s court.

The Shimmy

This mannerism gets a lot more coverage. As you’ve probably seen countless times, Steph will shake some poor sap (often a big man) off the dribble, step back, and drain a three with only inches of space. When this prompts a timeout from the opposing bench, TNT, ESPN, ABC, or equivalent will cut to commercial with a slow-motion replay of Steph waltzing down the court with a huge grin on his face, shimmying and shaking his shoulders (which I’m told is NOT one of today's new viral dance crazes). In this moment, Steph is nothing more to the viewer than some punk teenager at the rec who needs to be put in his place.

The Mouthguard

Another well-documented trait of Steph’s is his incessant mouthguard chewing on the free throw line and during all other dead ball situations (this habit making it into NBA 2k). What’s lost in all the discussion surrounding this, including how it affects his  shooting, is how disgusting this is, not to mention flat-out unhealthy. Just like the shimmy or the running, if the viewer focuses in on the mouthguard, you will eventually begin to detest it, even if the mainstream media eats it up (bad pun intended).

“Frankly, it’s disgusting,” the Huffington Post said about LeBron James’s mouth-guard-chewing back in 2011.

Double standards are fun.

The mouthguard become all the more troubling and obscene when it is hurtling at you courtside, as one fan found out during game 6 of the NBA finals.

Imagine if LeBron had thrown his mouthguard, after fouling out of a close-out game on the road in which he didnt play well. Skip Bayless would surely be on First Take the next morning practically calling for his arrest. The "thug" label would be slapped upon the much bigger, superhuman looking James. Instead, Curry is painted as a sympathetic figure by those around him, as even his coach sided with the player that not only fouled out of a key playoff game, but was ejected shortly after.

Stature

A lot of Curry's marketability has come from his all-too endearing quality of being relatable. Unlike LeBron, the 6'9 250 pound physical specimen, Steph just looks so much like the everyday man, and this is only accentuated with his mostly contact-averse, finesse style of play. This psychological phenomenon may not seem like a big deal, until you realize it creates asinine lines of thought such as this.

People actually like to publicly declare the opposite, but the truth is, we want our athletes to be bigger, stronger, and faster than us. Nobody watches sports to see someone that looks like them; there’s a reason we pay our athletes so much money and grown men act like children during games - the thrill of excellence, both in terms of sport-specific skill and athleticism. It is mostly the national, non-sports journalists who play up this narrative, so the frustration is only increased when those not as knowledgeable about our favorite sports wax non-stop about Steph.

The Towel

At the end of any Warrior’s blowout, a familiar sight is shown on camera as a sort of visual victory cigar for Steve Kerr and crew. Steph will sit on the end of the bench with a smug grin on his face, and a towel adorning his head, serving to further his perception as small and weak. This imagery has to infuriate fans on the losing side, as realization sets in that this Jedi-Knight lookalike has just lit up your starters for 30.1 points per game, on average. Having such a symbol to direct hatred towards will cause a significant amount of angst to be associated with Curry in the minds of fans,  whether he deserves it or not.

              

The Youth

Mark Jackson was slammed in the media for putting forth this take, but he is at least partially right that Steph is bad for the game. The best and most influential athletes almost always change the way their sport is played in some way due to the imitation that comes from young fans who will one day take over the league. Steph's 3-point heroics are amazing to watch, and that causes kids everywhere to try and develop that ability, just as the “AND-1 era” popularized dribble moves and handles. Years down the road, the development of shooting skills in our athletes will be off the charts - all thanks to Steph. The outlandish skills and tendencies Curry possesses may one day become the norm, the accepted “right” way to play basketball. But for now, the only effect this phenomenon has had is to create a whole bunch of “chuckers” in pickup games all across the country. Think about it. How annoying is it to play a game where the ball is never dribbled across either 3-point line? Guys are just running down the floor and throwing up 3’s, trying to emulate what they see on TV. Steph has the skills to pay the bills, but the rest of us are in a deep deficit trying to write Curry’s checks.

Golden State Warrior Fans

This one may not be as much about Steph as it is the general culture of sports and the NBA, but it comes mostly as a result of his success and accolades, so I pin it on him. Bandwagon fans are the worst, everyone acknowledges it. As a long-suffering Milwaukee Bucks fan, I look forward to our inevitable days of title contention, but hate the idea of someone posing as a fan of MY team just as soon as they get good. Of course, there are Warriors fans who have been loyal to the team throughout the years, but the bandwagoners soil the reputation for everyone. Bandwagon fans are somewhat of a ubiquitous problem, but in Golden State’s case, there are some special circumstances. I can live with bandwagon Cavaliers fans because, well, it’s Cleveland. They deserve to win something once in a while, or at least once every 50 years. The fans at Warriors games are mostly very wealthy middle aged men who have not cared about basketball in years, but still carry the smug satisfaction of rooting for a winner on their chests - at least until the Dubs aren't championship contenders anymore.

Riley Curry

No offense is meant to Steph and Ayesha; I'm sure they're great parents, but to ESPN, TMZ, and all other outlets of that kind: I do not care about Riley Curry. Stop. I'm fairly certain that no actual sports fan wants to see clips of a toddler on Sportscenter every two weeks, not unless the kid is draining J's like Trick Shot Titus, who I'm pretty sure is legally owned by the late-night Jimmys (Kimmel and Fallon) at this point. People forget that Steph actually has another child, a girl named Ryan who was born this last offseason. Luckily Ryan isn’t, or at least hasn't become the media darling that Riley was during the 2015 playoffs and offseason. Nothing personal against Riley, this is just another circumstantial element of Steph’s perceptual downfall that is mostly the fault of the media frenzy and star culture surrounding the Curry family.

Draymond Green

As likable as Steph is, his teammate Draymond Green may be his polar opposite. Once thought of as a divisive personality because of his fiery personality and grunting, flex-heavy antics (not to mention inebriated trash-talking), the 2016 postseason has cemented Draymond in the minds of all non-Warrior fans as a dirty, brash, and generally unlikable heel. In the Western Conference Finals against the Oklahoma City Thunder, Green infamously kicked Steven Adams in the Kiwis, narrowly avoiding suspension amid allegations the incident was intentional. On the other end of the spectrum, Draymond has flopped and whined all over the place, many of the same traits that cause so much angst against LeBron. Green's fire came to a head in game 4 of the Finals, as a controversial strike to LeBron James resulted in a one-game suspension, opening the door for the Cavs to come back. Although Curry doesn't act in accordance with Draymond, a win for Steph is a win for everybody's favorite former tweener, and the Warrior’s star is guilty by association.

Ayesha Curry

Things started out so well with Mrs. Curry. No, Steph's marriage isn't on the rocks, but the cooking aficionado/YouTube personality/mother extraordinaire/NBA First Lady hasn't been doing the Currys any favors in the public relations department. Following the Warriors' game 6 loss to the Cavs (by a substantial 15 points), Ayesha tweeted, then subsequently deleted, a rant accusing he NBA of being rigged for "money or ratings"
                                     

Refreshingly, the public as a whole seemed to rebuke the notion that the NBA was biased against Steph or the Warriors, but this is just the beginning. Like Steph, Ayesha has experienced a meteoric rise to notoriety the last couple of years, and the grassroots movement of frustration is beginning to move on her. Mrs. Curry has taken full advantage of her new reach, expanding her brand to a cookbook, a glut of Twitter followers, and a successful YouTube channel. Apparently this has been going to her head; as evidenced in the tweet above and other like it, as within the last week she has called for referees to be fined, complained about wait times outside the arena, and accused the Q of racially profiling her father. Even Steph knows she has gone a little too far, saying the day after he may have to "cut the wifi off" to prevent further Ayesha-outbursts.

The Curry 2 Lows

   

Enough said.

You may have noticed that many of the flaws and trouble spots surrounding Curry are things, people, and phenomena outside of his control. In fact, public opinion of Curry will only go down from his high point of 2nd consecutive MVP as media outlets continue to fall over themselves to cover Steph and the Dubs. Because many, just as I have outlined here, dislike Steph because of his “perfect” aura that envelops him, the way back to the hearts of the masses for Steph will be to deviate from this image. People enjoy watching athletes fail just as much as they do watching them succeed (think the Crying Jordan meme), and a little hardship would do wonders for some public sympathy. Nothing drastic that would take away from his on-the-court skills or family life, but Steph could easily stage something minor. 

Maybe a video goes viral of Steph getting crossed over by his younger brother in their teen years, maybe an interview with his mother “reveals” that he wasn’t potty trained until kindergarten, it’s not my place to suggest. He will surely be an Internet laughingstock for a short while, but this is the process of humanization. Michael Jordan presented a stoic, unfeeling persona, and this ultimately led to his downfall in the form of Crying Jordan. Steph is a new breed, a product of a new league where finesse and skill truly win the day, and his personality needs to reflect that lest he become hated by all.

Hating on Steph is next to impossible if you try to do it all the time. In fact, it's not only just difficult, it's a bad way to watch basketball. At some point, greatness just has to be appreciated, lest the viewer miss out on an iconic performance. So no, Steph Curry isn't the NBA’s next great villain, but for fleeting moments every game there is a precious outlet for the frustration that comes with over-coverage. This is the new bandwagon. The wave is hating Steph Curry. Join us.