Stephen Curry Meets Young BLIND FAN — And Is Deeply Moved By What He Hears From Him
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A Vision Beyond the Court: The Story of Steph Curry and Ethan Williams
The ballroom of the Four Seasons Hotel in San Francisco was alive with the elegant decor of the Golden State Warriors Foundation’s annual charity event. Among the attendees was NBA superstar Steph Curry, dressed in an impeccable navy blue suit, arriving with his wife, Ayesha. Despite his fame, Curry’s humility made him beloved by everyone.
“Steph, there are some kids eager to meet you,” said Marcus Thompson, the Warriors’ public relations director, guiding him to an adjacent room. Among the children was Ethan Williams, a 12-year-old boy with brown hair and dark glasses. His restless hands played with a miniature basketball while his mother, Sarah, watched him affectionately.
“He’s been nervous for weeks,” Sarah whispered to a social worker. “Basketball and the Warriors are everything to him, even though he’s never seen a game.”
Ethan had lost his vision at five years old due to a rare degenerative disease. Over the years, his family narrated the games for him, describing each movement that Curry executed on the court.
“Kids, I want to introduce you to Steph Curry,” announced Marcus, and the room erupted in applause. Curry introduced himself to each child until he reached Ethan. The boy tensed, immediately recognizing the voice he had often heard in interviews.
“Hey buddy, I’m Steph. What’s your name?” Curry asked, kneeling to be at the boy’s height.
“I-I’m Ethan,” he replied, almost whispering. “I knew it was you before you spoke. I recognized your voice.”
Curry smiled, surprised. “Really? You have a good ear then.”
Sarah touched Curry’s shoulder. “Ethan has been blind since he was five, but he’s your biggest fan. He never misses a game, or rather, a broadcast.”
“That’s a cool ball,” commented Curry, noticing the object in the boy’s hands.
“It’s my lucky charm,” responded Ethan, gaining confidence. “I take it everywhere.”
“May I?” Curry asked, extending his hand. Ethan hesitated briefly but handed over his treasure. Curry spun the ball between his fingers, doing some of his famous miniature dribbles. “Do you play basketball?” he asked as he returned the ball.
“Yes, at the school for the blind. We have baskets with sound devices that help us locate the hoop. I’m not as good as you, but I’m getting better.”
The conversation continued longer than with the other children. When Marcus signaled it was time to move on, Curry promised Ethan they would talk more during dinner.
At dinner, Curry discovered he had been placed at the same table as Ethan and his family. “We thought it would be nice to have one of the beneficiary children at the main table,” explained Marcus. “And Ethan has a particularly inspiring story.”
During the meal, Curry learned more about the boy’s life. Ethan lived in Oakland with his parents and an older sister. His father, David, worked as an engineer, and his mother had left her job as a teacher to care for him after the diagnosis.
“It was difficult in the beginning,” admitted Sarah while cutting the meat on Ethan’s plate. “But he exceeded all the doctor’s expectations.”
“Mom exaggerates,” said Ethan, blushing. “I just do what I need to do.”
“That’s a champion’s attitude,” commented Curry, “doing what needs to be done regardless of the circumstances.”
David mentioned something that captured Curry’s attention. “Warriors games became a family ritual after Ethan lost his vision. We started narrating the games for him, describing each of your movements on the court.”
“At first, it was just to include him,” continued Sarah. “But then we realized it was helping Ethan process what had happened to him.”
As dessert was being served, Ethan seemed to gather courage. He leaned forward, his voice low, almost confidential. “Mr. Curry, can I tell you something?”
“Sure, Ethan. And you can call me Steph.”
“I’ve never really seen you play with my eyes. I lost my vision when I was five and only started to get interested in basketball after that. But even so, you’re my hero.” The boy took a deep breath before continuing. “People always ask me how I can be a fan of a sport that depends so much on vision. They don’t understand that it’s not just about seeing the ball go through the hoop. It’s about what I feel when I hear the crowd explode after one of your three-point shots.”
Curry felt a lump in his throat as Ethan continued. “After I lost my vision, the doctor said I would have to accept certain limitations, and for a while, I believed them. But then we started following Warriors games, and my dad told me about you.” Ethan extended his hand, searching for Curry’s, who offered it without hesitation. “He told me that you also heard many times that you were too small for the NBA, but you proved everyone wrong. And if you could overcome your limitations, why couldn’t I overcome mine?”
The ballroom seemed to have gone silent as Curry focused completely on Ethan’s words. “So I started playing basketball. At first, I was terrible, but I remembered what my dad said about you practicing the same shot thousands of times. So I practiced too, and now I’m the top scorer on my team at school.” Ethan smiled. “I’ll never see you play, but you taught me that I don’t need my eyes to see possibilities, and for that, you changed my life.”
Curry felt a tear escape and roll down his cheek, which he quickly wiped away. “Ethan,” he finally responded with a choked voice, “that’s the most meaningful thing anyone has ever said to me. You think I inspired you, but the truth is that you just inspired me more than you can imagine.”
Three days later, Sarah received a phone call from Marcus Thompson. Steph Curry wanted to invite Ethan to a special training session at the Warriors facility. When they arrived at the training center, they were greeted by Curry himself, who was waiting at the entrance.
“Hey, Williams family,” he called out. “Ethan, buddy, I’m so happy you could come.”
To everyone’s surprise, other Warriors players were also present, not out of obligation, but because Curry had shared Ethan’s story with them.
“Ethan, I have a surprise for you,” said Curry, positioning the boy in the center of the court. “We, the players, usually do a trust exercise where one of us blindfolds our eyes and the other guides, but today you’re going to be our teacher. You’re going to teach us how you play basketball.”
During the next two hours, Ethan showed the professional players how he used sound to locate the basket, how he judged distances by echo, how he counted steps to know his position on the court. The players then blindfolded themselves and tried to play like him, most failing miserably.
“Man, this is impossibly difficult,” admitted one of Curry’s teammates.
“It’s not impossible,” corrected Ethan with a confident smile. “It’s just different. You need to trust your other senses.”
At the end of the session, Ethan gave a demonstration of his own shots. The second attempt went cleanly through the net, provoking enthusiastic applause.
Afterward, while resting, Curry sat next to Ethan. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you told me at dinner,” he began. “Sometimes we athletes get so focused on numbers and trophies that we forget why we really play. It’s not just to win championships; it’s to inspire people like you.”
Curry paused. “You told me that I taught you that you don’t need your eyes to see possibilities, but the truth is that you just taught all of us that we don’t need to see in the same way to find our path.”
Ethan was silent for a moment, processing the words. Then he leaned forward and hugged Curry, an awkward hug but deeply genuine. “Thank you for seeing me even though I can’t see you,” he murmured.
“Ethan, I’ve had an idea,” said Curry, “but I’ll need your parents’ permission.”
Two weeks later, the Golden State Warriors officially announced the creation of the Vision Beyond program, an initiative to make basketball more accessible for children with visual impairments, with the face of the program being Ethan Williams.
“This program was born from an encounter that changed my perspective as an athlete and as a human being,” explained Curry during the press conference. “Ethan taught me that the impact we have goes far beyond what we can see with our eyes.”
The program would include the installation of adapted basketball systems in schools for the blind, scholarships, and regular clinics with Warriors players. Ethan, wearing a customized Warriors shirt, spoke briefly. “When I lost my vision at five years old, I thought everything was over, but I discovered that sometimes when we lose one path, we find another. Basketball gave me a purpose, taught me that I can overcome any obstacle.”
In the months that followed, Ethan and Curry developed a genuine friendship. The player often called the boy before important games, sometimes just to talk. On a special Sunday, the Warriors organized the first Vision Beyond Day at the Chase Center. During the halftime of the game, Curry announced the creation of a scholarship in Ethan’s name for students with visual impairments.
“Because we don’t just see with our eyes,” he said as 20,000 fans listened in silence. “We see with our hearts, with our determination to never give up, and Ethan taught us that this vision can be the most powerful of all.”
Afterward, in the locker room, Curry gave Ethan a basketball autographed by the entire team. “There’s something written on it,” he explained. “It’s in braille.” Ethan ran his fingers over the raised dots, reading the message: “To Ethan, who taught us to see beyond the visible. You are our MVP, most valuable perspective.”
Tears streamed down Ethan’s face. “I never dreamed I could make a difference like this.”
Curry knelt to be at Ethan’s eye level. “You asked me how I felt knowing I had fans who never saw me play. The truth is that it made me realize that what we do echoes in ways we can’t always see and that our responsibility is to use whatever platform we have to elevate others.”
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In the years that followed, the Vision Beyond program grew beyond expectations. Ethan became an unofficial spokesperson, sharing his story in schools and hospitals. He still played basketball, getting better all the time, inspiring other children with disabilities. And Steph Curry, even after winning more championships, frequently said in interviews that one of his greatest prides wasn’t on the courts but in his friendship with a boy who never saw him play but who saw something much deeper—the power of a genuine human connection that transcends physical vision and reaches the heart.
At Ethan’s graduation, Curry made a surprise appearance. When called to the stage to say a few words, he simply said, “I came here today not as a basketball player but as a proud friend because Ethan taught me that sometimes life’s greatest gifts are invisible to the eyes.”
