To declare that one player "broke" a sport is a heavy claim, but in Curry's case, the data is irrefutable. When he entered the NBA in 2009, the league average for three-point attempts was just 18.1 per game, with 6.4 makes. The three-point shot was an afterthought, a secondary weapon deployed sparingly by most teams.
This relatability creates a psychological bias. It is easy to respect a giant; it is much harder for traditionalists to accept that a man of average athletic proportions broke their sport. Curry’s dominance is built on micro-skills: Perfecting a release time of 0.3 seconds.
In the pantheon of NBA greats, no player has been more dissected, celebrated, and yet fundamentally misunderstood than Stephen Curry.
It is a paradox that defies logic—how can a global icon, whose jersey sales consistently top the charts and whose name is synonymous with success, be considered underrated? The answer lies not just in his accolades, but in the journey, the constant skepticism he faced, and the artistic, almost modest way he dominates a muscle-bound sport.
Because he isn't screaming and flexing, we assume he isn't trying. This is the quiet disrespect that follows him everywhere. Stephen Curry- Underrated
Stephen Curry is underrated because we still try to measure his greatness using an old ruler. If you measure basketball greatness solely by physical dominance, isolation scoring, or brute force, you will miss what makes Curry transcendent.
Basketball has always been a sport obsessed with physical supremacy. For decades, the archetype of the NBA superstar was defined by genetic outliers: the brutal power of Shaquille O'Neal, the predatory athleticism of Michael Jordan, or the algorithmic perfection of LeBron James. We are conditioned to associate dominance with physical intimidation. Then came Steph.
Stephen Curry’s legacy is visible on every playground, high school gym, and NBA arena today. Before Curry, the three-pointer was a tactical weapon; now, it is the primary strategy. He democratized basketball. You cannot train yourself to be 6-foot-9 with a 40-inch vertical leap, but youth players realize they can work on their handle, conditioning, and shooting form.
In a league previously dominated by athletic wing players and dominant centers, Curry’s success was built on skill, intelligence, and unprecedented shooting efficiency. To declare that one player "broke" a sport
Detroit Pistons legend Isiah Thomas, himself a Hall of Fame point guard, offered perhaps the most eloquent summary of Curry's unique place in sports history:
Stephen Curry is the ultimate victim of his own success. He made the impossible look so effortless, and changed the game so thoroughly, that we now take his brilliance for granted. We view his deep circus shots as normal, his relentless off-ball movement as standard, and his selfless leadership as expected.
In 2015, he won his first MVP and championship. In 2016, he became the first—and only—unanimous MVP in NBA history, hitting an unfathomable 402 three-pointers in a single season. The kid who was "too small" had broken the NBA's mathematical scale.
The statistics alone should settle the debate. Curry is the NBA's all-time leader in three-pointers made, with over 4,000 and counting. He has the highest career free-throw percentage in NBA history (91.0%) and has led the league in three-pointers made a record eight times. He has been selected to 11 All-Star Games, won two MVP awards, claimed an NBA Finals MVP, and captured four NBA championships. This relatability creates a psychological bias
The reason for this persistent undervaluation is rooted in basketball's long-held biases. The sport has traditionally valued size, power, and athletic explosiveness over the skills that define Curry's game: shooting, ball-handling, off-ball movement, and basketball IQ. Because Curry does not look like the athletes who came before him — because he is not 6-foot-8 and 250 pounds of rippling muscle — his greatness has always required explanation in a way that LeBron James's or Michael Jordan's never did.
But the explanation is actually quite simple. Stephen Curry changed basketball. He took a shot that had been dismissed as a gimmick and turned it into the sport's most devastating weapon. He proved that small, unathletic-looking players could dominate at the highest level. He won championships in multiple eras, with multiple supporting casts, and under multiple sets of circumstances. He did it all with grace, humor, and a competitive fire that his pleasant demeanor often conceals.
At 37 years old and still playing at an All-Star level, Curry has demonstrated a longevity that only adds to his case. He is averaging nearly 29 points per game in the 2025–26 season, showing few signs of the decline that eventually catches every athlete.
: His ability to coordinate his handle into a release in milliseconds.
When LeBron James plays, he creates open shots by driving and kicking the ball out to shooters. When Curry plays, he creates open shots by running away from the basket, pulling the defense with him. Every advanced metric proves that Curry elevates his teammates' shooting percentages more than any player in modern history, yet because he doesn't get a literal assist for drawing two defenders away from the ball, his true value is routinely short-changed in MVP discussions. The Blueprint of the Modern Game
Stephen Curry: The Underrated Superstar Who Changed the Game