Greatest shooter of all-time. Three-time champion. Two-time MVP. First-ever Unanimous MVP. Paradigm-shifting revolutionary.

Stephen Curry has nothing left to prove.

Not to you. Not to me. Not to his fans or his haters. Not to his predecessors, contemporaries, or successors. Not to the statisticians or the columnists. Neither the record books nor highlight tapes. And certainly not to his franchise or the league or the game.

When it’s all said and done, Curry’s name will be etched next to the game’s greats. The 6’3 point guard from Davidson will take his rightful spot amongst basketball’s titans and no amount of clickbait headlines, salty tweets, or attempts at relitigating his career for engagement will change that reality.

Allen Iverson placed Curry in his all-time top five. LeBron James compared Curry to himself and said “you can’t” stop either player. The late, great Kobe Bryant called him the toughest player to guard in the NBA.

Kevin Durant labeled him as a “once-in-a-generation, once-in-a-lifetime talent.” Magic Johnson noted that “he is one of the greatest clutch players of all-time.” Kareem Abdul-Jabbar credits him with “changing the game of basketball.” Jerry West praised him as “the most unique player [he’s] ever seen.”

The game’s most powerful legends recognize Curry’s unprecedented greatness -- no tweet composed by a fan of a team that has had seasons ended, dreams dashed, and franchise destruction at the Golden State Warriors’ superstar’s hand will ever carry more weight than that.

Curry is, quite simply and by every measure, one of the greatest players to ever pick up a basketball. There aren’t fifteen human beings -- at the absolute most -- who played the game better than him. The story of the NBA cannot be told without shouting his name and crowning him as one of the most important figures in the very fabric of the game.

Curry isn’t infallible. His resumé features some notable shortcomings, namely the 2016 Finals and the ever-evasive Bill Russell trophy. But that’s not unlike any other superstar either. Bryant in the 2004 Finals. James in the 2011 Finals. “Tragic” Johnson in the 1984 Finals. Nearly every legend stumbled at some point in their journey.

And, of course, Curry has benefitted greatly from amazing teammates who made the game easier for him to control. Framed as a luxury only he has had, NBA history is full of stars winning together. Think Michael Jordan, Scottie Pippen, and Dennis Rodman, And Larry Bird, Kevin McHale, and Robert Parrish. And Abdul-Jabbar, Johnson, and James Worthy. Bryant and Shaquille O’Neal. James with Dwyane Wade, Chris Bosh, Kyrie Irving, and Anthony Davis. The list goes on and on.

Detractors are constantly shifting the goalposts and applying a higher standard to a player that they deny belongs in certain conversations. They pursue agendas born of a combination of jealousy and anger by contorting the truth to invent a new reality driven by Curry-inflicted pain and delusion.

In this reality, Curry checks off every single box you expect from your transcendent superstar.

He’s a champion and the leader and cornerstone of the greatest team ever assembled. He led his team to a record 73 wins with the most dominant offensive season we’ve ever seen. He owns nearly every shooting record and he is quickly closing in on the ones he doesn’t hold yet. He’s outdueled every one of his peers, including three championship victories over, arguably, the best basketball player ever. He’s unnrivaled when it comes to the most important skill in basketball; he’s also the greatest off-ball player as well, a testament to his conditioning, balance, marksmanship, and selflessness.

His loudest -- and most inaccurate -- critics point to his playoff career as proof of his under qualification to stand with the greats. Delving into all of Curry’s accomplishments when the lights are brightest is an article of its own, but he most notably holds the record for most points in a postseason overtime period and the record for most points in a four-game sweep. He averages more points than Bryant in the Finals and has five of the fifteen highest-scoring fourth quarters in the championship round over the last decade. He, quite literally, sent a man -- a player hyped up to be the official “Steph Stopper” -- to the hospital in his first series playing for the Larry O’Brien trophy.

You can’t fake that type of production. You can’t fake the fear that opponents feel when they line up across from him. You can’t fake that tireless dedication to the craft.

Things have changed in the Bay Area and the Warriors are no longer the powerhouse they were just a few years ago, but that’s life in the NBA. Windows close as quickly as they open. Dynamics change. Adjustments are required. Power shifts.

Now, a 32-year-old Curry faces his biggest challenge in, at least, a half-decade, if not more. He’s been given a supporting cast that doesn’t quite fit into the system the team runs. Nonetheless, holding Curry to a high standard this year and every remaining year of his prime -- however long that may be -- is completely fair; it’s not too much to ask your superstar to take control of his team and do everything he can to put them in a position to win.

But the vultures are circling, scrutinizing his every step as they look to invalidate his entire career with each missed shot. It’s a silly genre of criticism, one that is unique to the social media era that Curry has dominated.

No other player in NBA history -- regardless of supporting cast or circumstances -- has his legacy questioned as much as Curry has. No other three-time champion has to prove he can do things less accomplished players -- especially ones he’s beaten in the postseason -- have done. No other two-time MVP with his postseason success has his ability to lead a team come under fire. No other player’s legacy hangs in the balance so frequently after he’s reached the mountaintop several times.

If, in 2021, you’re still unsure about Curry or you view him as a great shooter, please open a new tab and re-visit his body of work.

See how he could take over a playoff game with little firepower around him in an iso-heavy offense in Game 4 against the Denver Nuggets in 2013. Watch him swing the balance of the NBA Finals in his team’s favor in Game 5 of the 2015 NBA Finals, a masterpiece in which he outlasted King James himself. Enjoy the way he closes out a hard-fought series against an incredible opponent as he did in Game 7 in 2016 against the Oklahoma City Thunder. It’s always great to play back Games 5 and 6 against the Houston Rockets in 2019. And, of course, if you’re interested in seeing how he’d fare against an elite defense that can hone in on him as he plays with no other scoring threat, look no further than his 47-point effort against the Toronto Raptors in Game 4 of the 2019 NBA Finals.

Or if you aren’t interested in film, go check out the box scores of every one of his championship-clinching performances. Look into how statistically average the Warriors’ overpowered Durant and Thompson-led offense was when Curry was on the floor. Go read how former Cleveland Cavaliers head coach Ty Lue made Curry his focus, a gameplan that was so comical in execution that they often left Durant, one of the most gifted scorers ever, wide open from everywhere. Read what his rivals say about him.

Curry is still writing his story and the 2020-21 season depends, partly, on how singulalarly great he is. What happens -- or doesn’t happen -- can never erase what he’s done and the player he’s been. Every bad faith criticism -- from Curry being a defensive liability to the fact he was a replaceable cog to his one-dimensional style -- can be debunked with just a tiny bit of research and an ounce of critical thinking.

I’m sorry Steph Curry beat your favorite team. I’m sorry his team was better than your favorite player’s team. I’m sorry that he’s spoiled a lot nights for you as a fan, maybe even lost you some money when you bet against him. I’m sorry that he bent and broke defenses in ways that no one else ever has. I’m sorry he ruined the game.

You can hide behind your snarky tweets, which are just manifestations of deeply-rooted Curry-induced trauma. Personally, I wouldn’t be comfortable publicly dropping some of the takes that fans, analysts, and former players have let fly, but I understand the power in trying to seek some kind of peace after having it stripped away from you by an unassuming offender. It’s a coping mechanism. I would be even less comfortable using the hypotheticals and the future to try to re-write the past -- imagine trying to use an age 32 season as an indictment against someone’s historic age 27 season -- but to each their own.

Curry forged the NBA in his image, forever leaving his mark on the game. His peers are champions, MVPs, and Hall of Famers -- suggesting he needs to emulate players who are chasing him is a special type of nonsense. There’s a mind-blowing disconnect between the player that haters claim he is and the energy they spend on tearing him down. In other words, if they truly believed he was a role player or overrated, careers wouldn’t have been built off of trying to tear him down.

The tweets make the rings shine brighter. The takes make the records stand taller. And your tears water his legacy, uplifting him to eye-level with every great before him.