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Steph Curry, Crypto Cornball

SOUTH LAKE TAHOE, NEVADA - JULY 11: NBA athlete Steph Curry tees off from the second hole during the final round of the American Century Championship at Edgewood Tahoe South golf course on July 11, 2020 in South Lake Tahoe, Nevada. (Photo by Jed Jacobsohn/Getty Images)
Jed Jacobsohn/Getty Images

When Stephen Curry needed cryptocurrency advice and decided the place to get it was Twitter, one could easily see where this was going. He’d just hooked up some cryptocurrency firm (which sounds like mortuary science every time it hits your ear) and was thinking of some moderately annoying way to chop up his new venture for the proles who have access to literally no measurable fraction of the $261,134,628 coming to him starting this year and extending out to the end of the 2026 season.

And so it was that Curry, who still is painted in the most glowing terms for his charitable impulses and general media agreeableness, sort of made a weird heel turn—a high-leverage venture deal as pitched by Just Another Guy Who Pretends He Doesn’t Really Know Where Money Can Be Found. Plus, it should come as no surprise that he is doing this for the same company that just signed Tom Brady to do some form of the same thing, and for the same reason.

So Curry wasn’t asking your advice (duh) or even giving you advice (because you can’t afford to take it). He was just telling you that someone was going to pay him to tell you that he was getting paid by a guy who is worth way more than he is on the bitcoin food chain. And good for Curry, I guess? It’s much less sexy to point out that he could have taken that quarter bil and bought 5,684 bitcoins and bitchange by today’s valuation without bothering any of us at any point.

It’s just such an odd way for Curry to brand himself—as a disingenuous crypto-cornball who just stands there practicing behind-the-backboard shots in his driveway while billionaires hurl money at him from passing limousines while he looks at you and shrugs his shoulders as if to say, “What can I do? This stuff just sort of happens to me all the time.” Because it does. Maybe it’s not so odd after all. Maybe thinking otherwise is on those who bought into the notion that he is anything but a capitalist getting paid by bigger capitalists simply to do disingenuous crypto-cornball stuff, which is almost as good a gig as being the guy with enough money to pay people to do that. That’s the system—one so lucrative even now that if Curry put all the money he has ever earned in the NBA and then all the money he has made by being within throwing distance of those who hurl money at him, he could still buy less than 15 percent of the Warriors. He is, by the rules and structure of capitalism, underpaid.

But at least he inspired an answer to his “Just getting started in the crypto game…y’all got any advice??” bait-and-switch, and it is this: “Yeah, here’s some advice. You could piss off.” I mean, he won’t view that as useful any more than you would take his invitation for input, but at least everyone gets better insight into why he put his name and energy into Holey Moley, which is how he got into the cornball business in the first place.