May 20--As the designated Stephen Curry doubter, it falls to me to cough quietly behind my hand at the news that the little darling is the first unanimous Most Valuable Player in NBA history.
I do not know how this duty has fallen to me, but I do not shirk the obligation. Had Curry gotten only one more vote than he needed to be MVP, which I do not dispute that he is, my burden as skeptic would have been the same.
But to get them all, every vote from every witness obligated to truth and reason, well, not even the World War II vote was unanimous.
I have been joined by a couple of other voices raised to challenge the coast to coast admiration for the current house pet of the NBA, the honey of the hardwood, most notably LeBron James and Charles Barkley, but I did not invite them nor do I need them to know what I know.
Curry is a nice little shooter who couldn't defend an inflatable air dancer.
Still, let's consider their points of view. To James the definition of "valuable" is central to his case, and while it would seem that a certified high school graduate like James could understand the nuances of advanced semantics, James probably just means that Curry is not as good as James is. In this, I agree.
As for Barkley, contention is his gimmick and his gift, so for him to agree with anything would make Barkley seem as phony as he actually is. Yet when he names others who are better than Curry, including James, I can not disagree.
The one thing that all of us have in common, of course, is that we had no vote in the matter. Another MVP trophy is Curry's to keep, the unanimous distinction is his to relish and the rest of the world can go sit on a cactus.
MVP is an honor that Michael Jordan used to accept between tee times, and someone always found misgivings about his valuableness.
Even when Jordan was playing at baseball, he was still the most valuable basketball player on earth and any honest vote would have confirmed as much.
But enough about Jordan, as if there ever can be, and not to deny that young Curry is what basketball has come to, but we must consider soberly what it means to be a unanimous MVP.
Let us start with history. Up until now, since the Age of Mikan (as in George, who invented pro basketball but never won an MVP) not one player had been deemed flawless enough to avoid dissent.
Consider Jerry West, the silhouette on the NBA logo, the same logo that appears on the official ballot. West never won an MVP. Leo Tolstoy never won a Nobel, Richard Burton never won an Oscar and a golden retriever never has won Westminster, so some things are beyond explanation.
Oscar Robertson, the greatest basketball player of all-time, won only one MVP. Same for Julius Erving -- for whom gravity was a mere nuisance -- only one. Kobe Bryant. One.
Bryant just left basketball lauded and applauded as the best of his time, which included Curry beginning and Jordan ending. And yet Bryant lost the big prize not only to Shaquille O'Neal but to Dirk Nowitzki, Derrick Rose and Steve Nash. Twice to Nash. Twice.
If precedent can not make the case for restraint in the matter of Curry's impeccability, let us consider the award itself. Is it for the best player? That would be James. Or maybe it is for the player of greatest value; that is, without whom his team would be just another empty bus. That, too, would be James.
It could be as simple as a lack of challengers, a lull in the level of competition, a league caught in limbo between a parade that is passing and a surprise that is coming.
Until then we are stuck with Curry, not history's worst seat filler, but what makes Curry so unanimously valuable is fashion mostly.
Curry is the flavor of the moment, an interim fascination, like Allen Iverson was, or Vince Carter, or Patrick Ewing. And we are unanimous in that.
Bernie Lincicome is a special contributor to the Chicago Tribune.
