CURRY BREAKS DOWN AFTER DAUGHTER’S QUESTION: IF YOU COULD GO BACK WOULD YOU CHOOSE ME OR BASKETBALL?
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Curry Breaks Down After Daughter’s Question: “If You Could Go Back, Would You Choose Me or Basketball?”
Above the cloudy skies of San Francisco, a quiet and deeply personal moment unfolded between NBA superstar Stephen Curry and his 11-year-old daughter, Riley. It was an afternoon that many fathers would envy: a rare and perfect day spent together, away from the bright lights of the basketball court. No games, no practices, no media obligations—just a father and his daughter exploring the city they loved.
The sun was slowly setting over the San Francisco Bay, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink. They were sitting at the Twin Peaks viewpoint, taking in the breathtaking view of their city, the wind lightly brushing against their skin. Curry sat quietly, his gaze fixed on the horizon, but he couldn’t help but notice Riley’s unusual silence. Normally, she would be talking a mile a minute, but today, she was lost in her thoughts.
He watched her fidgeting with the colorful friendship bracelet she had made at school earlier that week. Curry recognized that expression—he’d seen it before when she was trying to work up the courage to ask him something important. His mind wandered back to two weeks ago when he was on a five-game road trip. During a video call, Riley had shown him a drawing she made at school. In it, their family was sitting together, watching a basketball game on TV with a small Curry drawn on the court. “This is how we’re usually together, right, Daddy?” she had said, her voice filled with innocence, without malice.
“Daddy,” Riley’s soft voice brought him back to the present. He turned his attention to her, his protective instincts kicking in as he saw her struggling with something unsaid. “Yes, Princess?”
She hesitated before finally looking up at him, her large, expressive eyes filled with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course, you can ask me anything,” he said, his smile trying to put her at ease.
Riley took a deep breath, her eyes fixed on the bracelet as she nervously fiddled with it. Then, her voice barely above a whisper, she asked, “If you could go back in time, would you choose basketball or me?”
The question hit Curry like a bolt of lightning. The smile instantly disappeared from his face, and a heavy silence enveloped them both. He was unprepared for this—never in his wildest dreams had he imagined that Riley, at such a young age, would carry the burden of this doubt.
The wind seemed to freeze around them, and the weight of his daughter’s question pressed heavily on his chest. His mind flashed back to moments he had missed because of his career: the ninth birthday he had missed due to the NBA Finals, the dance recital where Riley had searched the crowd for him but found only an empty seat beside Isa, and the countless nights when all he could do was say goodnight over the phone.
Curry’s mind raced, searching for the right words, the words that could express everything he felt for Riley, yet still honor the life he had built through basketball. The breeze felt colder now, and as much as he wanted to protect his daughter from the pain of his absence, he knew that honesty was the only answer that mattered.
Finally, he turned completely toward Riley, taking her small hands in his. His voice trembled slightly as he began to speak. “Riley, I want to tell you a story.”
He paused, his eyes wandering to the distant line where the sky met the sea. “When I was about your age, I also had a dream. Do you know what it was?”
Riley shook her head, her eyes wide with curiosity.
“I dreamed of playing in the NBA, just like your grandfather Dell,” Curry said, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips as he thought of his father. “But there was a problem. Everyone told me I was too small—my coaches, other parents, even some of my friends. ‘Steph, you’ll never get there,’ they said.”
Curry extended his arm around Riley’s shoulders, pulling her closer as the wind picked up again. “Do you know who never said that to me?” He looked down at her.
Riley shook her head, her eyes wide, hanging on to every word.
“My parents,” Curry said with a smile. “Your grandfather Dell would miss important games just to attend my school presentations. Your grandmother would drive for hours to watch me play in tournaments no one thought I was good enough to participate in.”
Riley’s expression softened as she listened to her father’s words, a deeper understanding beginning to take root.
“Do you know what I had to do to get here?” Curry continued. “I had to make sacrifices. I had to give up a lot of things—parties with friends, free time, even my grades sometimes because I was always training.”
He looked at Riley, his voice growing more serious. “Sacrifice is when we give up doing something we love for something we love even more. Your grandparents sacrificed their time, their money, their comfort to support me, and I sacrificed too, in ways you may never understand.”
The wind grew stronger, carrying with it a sense of urgency, as if the universe itself was holding its breath. Riley remained silent, processing her father’s words.
“But you know what?” Curry’s voice cracked slightly as he continued, “Even when I was struggling, even when it seemed impossible, something changed. It was you, Riley. When you were born, basketball was no longer the most important thing in my life. You were. Your smile, your first steps, every little thing you did.”
Curry bent down, taking off his right shoe and turning it upside down to show Riley a small inscription inside. “Do you see this?” he asked, pointing to the letters etched inside the shoe.
Riley looked at it, puzzled. “What is it?”
“RC,” Curry said, his voice thick with emotion. “Your initials. Since the day you were born, I’ve carried them with me. Every game I play, every shot I take, every victory I celebrate is for you and our family. When I’m away, this reminds me of why I’m there.”
Riley’s eyes widened in surprise. She had never noticed the initials before.
“Now, Riley,” Curry continued, his voice firm but gentle, “when you ask me if I would choose basketball or you, I want you to understand something about dreams and sacrifices. Basketball gave me a platform to inspire others, but being your father gives me purpose.”
Riley’s brow furrowed as she tried to understand the deeper meaning of his words.
“Do you know what legacy is?” Curry asked, watching as Riley frowned.
“It’s like what you leave behind,” she said slowly, still processing.
“Exactly,” Curry smiled, proud of his daughter for understanding. “When you grow up, people won’t remember me for the points I scored or the championships I won. They’ll remember the impact I had on their lives. That’s what really matters.”
The sun had now almost completely dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden light over them. Father and daughter sat together in silence for a few moments, both lost in their thoughts.
Riley then asked quietly, “Do you regret it, Daddy? Do you regret playing basketball?”
Curry took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. “I don’t regret playing, Riley,” he said. “But I do regret the times I didn’t find the right balance. The times when the game took more than it should.”
Riley nodded slowly, and with tears beginning to form in her eyes, she reached out and hugged her father tightly. “I just wanted to be sure that you loved me more than basketball.”
Curry’s heart swelled with love and pride. “Basketball is what I do,” he whispered, holding her close. “But being your father is who I am, and that, Riley, is a choice I make every day.”
As the city lights twinkled below them and the stars began to shine above, the father and daughter walked back to the car, their hearts full of the promise that no matter what happened, family would always come first.
“San Francisco is beautiful,” Curry said, gazing out at the glowing city. “But what really matters is us, our love, and the memories we will still create.”
And with that, father and daughter ventured into the future, ready for the new chapter in their lives—one where basketball and family would coexist in harmony, each reinforcing the value of the other.
