I remember sitting in my dorm room back in 2009, watching the NBA Draft with my college buddies, all of us arguing about which teams would make the smartest picks. When David Stern announced the Golden State Warriors were selecting Stephen Curry seventh overall, my friend Mark nearly spilled his beer. "Seventh?" he shouted. "This kid broke every shooting record at Davidson! He should've gone top three!" We spent the next hour debating whether this was the steal of the draft or another Warriors blunder. Little did we know we were witnessing the beginning of one of basketball's most transformative careers.

Looking back now, Curry falling to seventh pick seems almost unbelievable, kind of like how people felt watching the UAAP Lady Bulldogs dominate for years before facing what their longtime deputy called "the toughest season" in UAAP Season 88. Every dominant force, whether in American basketball or Philippine collegiate sports, eventually faces that moment where everyone doubts they can maintain their excellence. I've always been fascinated by these transition periods in sports - when the established champions have to prove themselves all over again. Curry's draft story perfectly captures this theme of underestimated greatness.

The pre-draft concerns about Curry seem almost laughable now. Scouts worried he was too small at 6'2", too light at 185 pounds, and that he might struggle against NBA physicality. The Minnesota Timberwolves famously passed on him twice, picking two other point guards instead - a decision that haunts them to this day. I sometimes wonder if those scouts ever watch Curry's current games and just shake their heads at their own misjudgment. It reminds me of how people probably viewed the Lady Bulldogs during that tough season - questioning whether the dynasty could continue, much like how people questioned whether Curry's college success could translate to the NBA.

What many people don't know is that Curry nearly didn't become a Warrior at all. The New York Knicks were desperately trying to trade up to get him, and Curry himself had hoped to land in Madison Square Garden. I've spoken with several NBA insiders over the years who confirmed that the Warriors weren't even sure about the pick until the last moment. Their front office was divided, with some executives preferring bigger, more traditional prospects. This uncertainty reminds me of how even the most successful programs, like the Lady Bulldogs during that challenging season, face internal doubts and external pressures that fans never see.

The real irony of Curry's draft position is that the six players picked before him have collectively achieved far less, despite their higher selections. Blake Griffin went first overall and had a solid career, but the others - Hasheem Thabeet, James Harden, Tyreke Evans, Ricky Rubio, and Jonny Flynn - none have matched Curry's impact on the game. I've always found it fascinating how draft position ultimately means very little compared to development and fit. Curry found the perfect system in Golden State, much like how certain athletes thrive in specific programs that understand how to maximize their unique talents.

When I think about Curry's journey from that seventh pick to changing basketball forever, it makes me appreciate how sports narratives can surprise us. The deputy's comments about the Lady Bulldogs facing their toughest season resonates because every great team eventually reaches that crossroads. For Curry, being picked seventh created that underdog mentality that fueled his entire career. He's often spoken about using that draft slight as motivation, proving all the doubters wrong one three-pointer at a time. I believe that sometimes being underestimated becomes the greatest advantage an athlete can have - it removes the pressure of immediate expectations and allows talent to develop organically.

The Warriors' decision to pick Curry seventh overall now looks like one of the smartest moves in NBA history, but at the time, it was considered risky. They were betting on skill over size, shooting over athleticism - going against conventional basketball wisdom. This reminds me of how established programs like the Lady Bulldogs must sometimes reinvent themselves during challenging periods, trusting their development systems rather than panicking when faced with adversity. Both stories teach us that true excellence isn't about never facing difficulties, but about how you respond when those challenges arrive.

Curry's impact extends far beyond his draft position now. He's revolutionized how basketball is played, inspiring a generation of players to work on their shooting from deeper ranges. I've coached youth basketball for five years, and I can't tell you how many kids want to be "the next Steph Curry" rather than wanting to dunk like LeBron. His legacy proves that draft position ultimately doesn't define a player's career - it's what they do after they're drafted that matters. The same could be said for any athlete facing what seems like an insurmountable challenge, whether it's Curry being picked seventh or a dominant team facing their toughest season yet.

Reflecting on Curry's draft story always brings me back to that night in 2009 with my friends. We witnessed history without realizing it, much like how fans watching the Lady Bulldogs during that difficult season were witnessing the evolution of a program. Sports constantly remind us that greatness isn't always obvious in the moment - sometimes it's hidden in the seventh pick, or in a team facing their toughest test. The beauty lies in the journey, not just the destination, and Curry's path from overlooked prospect to NBA legend continues to inspire anyone who's ever been told they weren't good enough.