For Warriors’ scrappy stars, mothers are ‘the real MVPs’
Draymond Green and his mother, Mary Babers-Green, participate in 2012 Senior Day at Michigan State.
Stephen Curry, Kevin Durant and Draymond Green are the three highest-profile players on the Warriors, dynamic leaders of a team steaming into the NBA’s Western Conference finals for the third consecutive year.
Curry, Durant and Green share another similarity: They’re unapologetically open about the close connections they have with their mothers. Most memorably, Durant tearfully called his mom, Wanda, “the real MVP” during his Most Valuable Player
acceptance speech in May 2014, when he played for Oklahoma City. Green makes headlines for his rugged style and provocative quotes, but he also trades text messages with his mom, Mary Babers-Green, nearly every day.
And Curry, while widely known as the son of former NBA player Dell Curry, sees even more of mom Sonya’s personality in himself.
“I’m a mama’s boy, for sure,” Curry said last week. “I’m very comfortable saying that.”
So, in recognition of Mother’s Day, it seemed timely to trace the ties between these notable Warriors and their moms.
Dell Curry spent 16 years in the NBA and scored 12,670 points. Sonya Curry also was an accomplished athlete — a three-sport high-school standout (volleyball, basketball, track) outside Roanoke, Va., who was recruited for basketball and volleyball.
Her high-school hoops team won two state championships, and she was named defensive player of the year as a senior. She played volleyball in college at Virginia Tech, where she carved out her niche as a setter, an unglamorous defensive position.
“Everybody used to laugh, because my pops wasn’t known for his defense — and that’s all my mom was known for,” Stephen Curry said, smiling. “I guess I’m not highly touted for my defense, but I feel I can hold my own on that end of the floor.
“Without her, I don’t know where I’d be.”
Sonya Curry also sought to influence her son’s game early in his pro career, when he struggled with turnovers. She abruptly called him one day and offered an incentive to take better care of the ball: He would pay her $100 for every turnover more than three in a game. This friendly wager has cost him money the past several years.
Curry grew up in a twoparent home in Charlotte — Durant and Green mostly were raised by single moms — but Dell Curry traveled frequently as an NBA player. So Stephen, brother Seth and sister Sydel spent most of their time with Sonya.
Stephen said his mom’s competitiveness, spirituality and passion for raising her kids left the most lasting impression. They clearly share a deep bond, which Sonya attributes in part to both of them being firstborn kids.
“That resonates the most with me,” she said. “I embrace that leadership component and responsibility of being the oldest, and since Stephen was little, he also felt responsible for his siblings and setting the example.
“And that competitiveness — we don’t think there’s anything we can’t do.”
This showed in young Steph, despite his small stature, routinely conquering bigger kids as he climbed the basketball ladder. It also showed in Sonya’s vocal nature in the stands; Stephen recalled hearing her voice over all others in gyms throughout his youth.
Even now, as an eight-year NBA veteran, Curry always knows where his family is sitting at Warriors games. He invariably makes eye contact with Sonya, just like he did as a kid.
One enduring memory of Durant’s childhood outside Baltimore is his mom waking up him and brother Tony in what seemed like the middle of the night. It actually was shortly before 11 p.m., because Wanda needed to drop them at their grandma’s house so she could go to work.
She was a young single mom — she had Tony at age 19 and Kevin two years later — and scrambled to make ends meet. She loaded and unloaded sacks of mail at the post office for a few years, and later worked long hours at another job as a federal employee.
Durant traced his work ethic in basketball to the way Wanda persevered when her sons were young.
“She didn’t put us to the side so she could go have a social life,” Durant said. “She did what she had to do. She had to figure life out, man. She handled her business like grownups are supposed to do. You appreciate and respect that.”
Wanda Durant didn’t tolerate it when her kids talked back to her, insisting they respond with “Yes, ma’am” and “No, ma’am.” She occasionally became angry with them, though she always let it go quickly.
Kevin sees the parallel in his demeanor on the court, mostly stoic and businesslike. Every now and then, he becomes short-tempered — such as vigorously shoving Utah center Rudy Gobert in retaliation during Game 3 of the Western Conference semifinals, earning a flagrant foul (and technical foul).
“It’s different from other guys who show it every possession and wear their heart on their sleeve,” Durant said. “I’m kind of the inner feisty person, I guess. … I have these quick bursts of anger and then I come back to real life, and I get that from my mom.”
Wanda Durant also pushed Kevin in basketball, expanding on the expectations of his youth coaches. If they asked him to shoot 200 free throws, she sometimes made him shoot 500. She also supervised his conditioning — push-ups, sprints, running hills.
This long journey, from modest beginnings to the NBA’s most prestigious individual award, guided Durant during his emotional 2014 speech. He didn’t plan to call his mom “the real MVP,” but it
turned into a defining moment for both him and Wanda.
“I didn’t think it would take off like that,” Durant said. “But it was pretty dope to see so many people use that term (afterward) to describe their loved ones.”
Wanda Durant has become a popular motivational speaker since Kevin’s speech gave her a measure of fame. Lifetime even made a movie about her, produced by Queen Latifah — “The Real MVP: The Wanda Durant Story.”
That speech changed Wanda Durant’s life, in many ways.
“What really warmed my heart was I believed Kevin really got who I was and the kind of mother I was, and why I was a little tough on him at times and required so much of him,” she said.
“The aftermath was unbelievable and unexpected. It has really brought me opportunities and given me a voice to share my story, to try to inspire young mothers and children. I’m really grateful.”
Mary Babers-Green fondly recalled her conversations with young Draymond during long car rides to his AAU tournaments throughout the Midwest. Or talking with him at home in Saginaw, Mich., while listening to music late into the night.
These days, the subjects of Babers-Green’s texts to her son range from a reminder about vaccinations for her infant grandson to a motivational message before Game 2 against the Jazz, advising Draymond “not to give these guys life.”
So you can see where Green got his tenacity.
He always had an independent streak, too. This occasionally made his mother a bit nervous.
“He’s the same person he was at 1 year old,” BabersGreen said. “I lived down the street from my mom’s, and he’d leave the house and walk to my mom’s. It wasn’t that far, but as a 1-year-old? He always danced to his own drum.”
Babers-Green was a good athlete when she was younger. She played basketball, ran track and held her own against boys in baseball and football.
Even so, her temperament sometimes caused trouble. (Sound familiar?) She got thrown off a couple teams and once was ejected from a highschool basketball game as a spectator.
“It’s definitely a direct line from her intensity to mine, for sure,” Green said.
He similarly picked up his outspokenness from his mom. Babers-Green remains a lively voice on Twitter, with more than 22,000 followers, though she has “tactfully toned down” her occasionally outlandish observations.
Green, much like Durant, admired the work ethic of his single mom during his teenage years. (Green’s parents divorced when he was 12.) Babers-Green worked at the local elementary school, at a substance abuse center and later as a middle-school security guard. She retired two years ago.
Babers-Green didn’t hesitate to impose discipline on her son, making him sit out summer basketball after his freshman year in high school because of poor grades. Green didn’t agree at the time, naturally, but he understands in retrospect.
“She shaped who I am as a person, a basketball player and a man,” Green said. “Sometimes, it was tough love.” And now? “That’s my best friend,” he said, “and it’ll never change.”