OAKLAND — Stephen Curry’s lowest point came the night of Game 7.
The anger kidnapped his words on the silent drive home. He was girded by the presence of friends and family at his post-game gathering, but inside he was feeling it.
The frustration and disappointment. The looping mental replay of Kyrie Irving’s step-back 3, of the Cavaliers celebrating on the Oracle floor. The churning in his core.
He sought comfort in the garlic crust of Domino’s pizza. A glass of wine. A Cuban cigar. But all he found was dejection.
“Saddest cigar I’ve ever smoked,” Curry said. “Usually you smoke a cigar when you win. That’s how terrible of a party it was. … We had some real conversations that night about how much it (stunk).”
And then the low point was done, passed over him like a storm. The angst wasn’t gone but the worst was over. Life had resumed. Curry’s secret talent had kicked in.
He is nearly as adept at discernment as he is at shooting. Curry tends to always see the big picture, to remember the essences — of life, of basketball, of who he is and wants to be — even in the midst of adversity. He clings to…