Shaq Reveals What Steph Curry’s Father Told Him — His Words Will Make You Cry
When Shaquille O’Neal, the larger-than-life NBA legend, sat down for a televised interview in Atlanta, no one expected the gentle giant to bare his soul. Yet, as the cameras rolled and the lights dimmed, Shaq’s deep voice trembled with an emotion rarely seen from the man known for breaking backboards and making crowds roar with laughter. What he revealed that day was not a tale of basketball glory, but a story about fatherhood, dreams, and the power of unwavering belief—a story that would move millions to tears.
“It was three years ago,” Shaq began, his massive hands fidgeting as if trying to hold on to a memory too precious to let slip away. “I was at a charity dinner in Charlotte. There were a bunch of us—former players, current stars, everyone talking about the old days, the good times. But what happened that night changed everything I thought I knew about being a father.”
Seated beside Shaq at that dinner was Dell Curry, a name familiar to basketball fans as a deadly shooter and, more importantly, as the father of Steph Curry—the man who would go on to revolutionize the game of basketball. But that night, Dell was not just an NBA veteran or a proud father. He became, in Shaq’s words, “the wisest man I’ve ever met.”
As the conversation at their table turned to Steph’s rise, Dell’s eyes lit up—not with pride for the championships or the records, but with a deeper, almost spiritual gratitude. “You know, Shaq,” Dell said, “there were years when everyone told Steph he’d never make it. Coaches, scouts, even family friends. They all said he was too small, too skinny, too soft for the NBA.” Shaq, who had watched Steph turn the impossible into routine on the court, was stunned. How could anyone have doubted the kid who made 40-foot three-pointers look easy?
Dell then shared a memory that would forever change Shaq’s understanding of fatherhood. “When Steph was sixteen,” Dell recalled, “he came home one night after another coach told him he’d never play beyond high school. He sat in our kitchen, tears rolling down his face, and he said, ‘Dad, maybe everyone’s right. Maybe I’m just not good enough. Maybe I should give up on this dream that’s causing me so much pain.’”
The silence that followed was heavy, filled with the weight of every parent who has ever watched a child’s confidence shatter. “I looked at my son,” Dell continued, “and I told him, ‘Steph, the world doesn’t get to decide your worth. The world doesn’t determine your destiny. The only opinion that matters is the one you have of yourself—and the faith we have in you as a family who loves you unconditionally.’”
Shaq’s hands shook as he listened, realizing the depth of Dell’s wisdom. But Dell wasn’t finished. “That wasn’t the first time Steph wanted to quit,” he said. “It was the seventh. Seven times he came to me, broken. Seven times the world told him no. And seven times, I had to help him find a reason to keep going.”
At this point in the interview, Shaq’s voice broke, tears streaming down his face. “My job wasn’t to help Steph believe in himself seven times,” Dell had told him. “My job was to believe in him enough for both of us, every single time, until he was strong enough to carry that belief on his own.”
That night, Shaq confessed, he went back to his hotel room and called his own son. “I realized I’d always tried to be realistic with my kids—pointing out obstacles, managing expectations, trying to protect them from disappointment. But I was teaching them to shrink their dreams before they even had a chance to chase them.” On the phone, Shaq apologized to his son for not believing in his dreams the way Dell believed in Steph’s. “My son said, ‘Dad, I stopped telling you my big dreams because I was afraid you’d just tell me why they wouldn’t work.’ That broke me.”
For the next six months, Shaq had honest conversations with all his children, asking about dreams they’d hidden, goals they’d abandoned. He discovered their capacity for dreaming had never left—they’d just stopped sharing with him. “When I became their believing voice, they started dreaming out loud again,” Shaq said, his face shining with gratitude.
Dell’s final words at that dinner still echo in Shaq’s mind: “Every child deserves someone who will believe in them seven times, seventy times, seven hundred times if that’s what it takes. The greatest tragedy isn’t failing to achieve your dreams—it’s never chasing them because no one believed they were worth chasing.”
As Shaq finished his story, the studio was silent. The message was clear: greatness isn’t just about talent or trophies—it’s about the power of belief. Every Steph Curry, every dreamer, needs someone to see their greatness before the world does. And every parent, every mentor, every friend, has the chance to be that someone. The tears in Shaq’s eyes were not just for Steph, or for himself, but for all the dreams waiting for a believer. And that, more than any championship, is the legacy that can change the world.
