Shot Ready< is a powerful distillation of Stephen Curry&rsquo;s transformative philosophy of success&mdash;centered on preparation, constant improvement, creativity, connection, mindfulness, and joy&mdash;delivered in his incomparable voice and style. Stunningly designed and illustrated with more than 100 gorgeous photographs, <Shot Ready< is an intimate narrative and a practical blueprint for any reader who wants to unlock their own potential.

Autorentext

Stephen Curry is an eleven-time NBA All-Star, four-time NBA Champion, and Olympic Gold Medalist of the USA Basketball Men’s National Team. Curry is CEO of Thirty Ink, a purpose-driven collective that includes multimedia company Unanimous Media; UNDERRATED, providing equity, access, and opportunity to underrepresented communities; Gentleman’s Cut, a premium fine-aged Kentucky Straight Bourbon Whiskey; and Eat. Learn. Play., his nonprofit with wife Ayesha dedicated to unleashing the potential of every child. In 2020, Curry launched Curry Brand, powered by Under Armour, with a mission to open doors for underrepresented youth and increase access for sports across the country.

Klappentext

NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER • Shot Ready is a powerful distillation of Stephen Curry’s transformative philosophy of success—centered on preparation, constant improvement, creativity, connection, mindfulness, and joy—delivered in his incomparable voice and style. Stunningly designed and illustrated with more than 100 gorgeous photographs, Shot Ready is an intimate narrative and a practical blueprint for any reader who wants to unlock their own potential.

Leseprobe
Preface

I leave the house early in the morning while my kids are still asleep. It’s July, so the school parking lot is empty when I drive in, but I know the code to let myself into the gym. This high-school gym is on the short list of courts I can use in the summers without anybody knowing. The key to these summer workouts, as in most things in life, is getting started before everyone else’s day begins.

Usually, I meet my trainer Brandon Payne here and we focus on the technical details of a particular shot that’s on my mind. We practice not until I get the shot right, but until I can’t get it wrong.

But today, it’s going to be just you and me.

With one switch, four lines of fluorescent ceiling lights flicker to life and hum over the hardwood. I give the ball a hard dribble, because even here in the practice gym, intensity and intention are important. Warming up, I look out at the five empty rows of blue pull-out bleachers that line the court—as a kid in an empty gym like this one, I would picture a crowd filling those seats.

It was just this sort of atmosphere—a small gym, away from crowds and distractions—where I put in most of the hours I spent learning the game as a young player. A few years into my career as a Golden State Warrior, I realized these gyms were still where I was most comfortable. Being here now grounds me in the memory of my earliest lessons. No matter how good I feel like I’ve gotten, I always come back to the basics.

I was never the most gifted athlete—not the highest jumper or the fastest runner or the tallest player on the court. In college, I looked like a middle-schooler trying to age himself up with a mustache so thin it seemed drawn on. Depending on my haircut, I’m still only 6'3" in a league where the average is 6'6".

But the work carried me through. I fell in love with the grind. You have to. With the sacrifices that it takes to be great, you have to find joy in the work you do when no one else is around. I hate when coaches or trainers on the internet talk about “the unseen hours” that go into being successful, because it makes that sort of preparation sound mysterious and secretive. But when I talk about “the grind,” I’m simply describing the most important hours in any pursuit, the ones we invest in ourselves. I do this work in the gym in isolation—there’s no defense, no live action—but, even alone, I practice with a shot-ready mentality, training as if the stakes are high and the clock is low, so that I can rehearse finding balance in the midst of great intensity. Even in a high-school gym like this one, I can re-create the feeling of a tied NBA game with seconds to go by conjuring the scenario in my imagination and playing through it. I spend so much time practicing in this feeling so that even under the bright lights and crushing pressure of a real game, I can easily fall into an unconscious flow and execute my training. Of course, I’ll still feel all the nerves, but I don’t let them linger. Instead, they pass right through me. What is left behind is a calm that allows my training to kick in. And then I deliver.

Being shot ready requires practice, training, and repetition, but it rewards that work with an unmatchable feeling of transcendence. My peak experience of joy is when I can lose myself in the poetry and rhythm of a fastpaced game—when there’s no time to think, and there are nine other guys flying around me, but I have the ball in my hands and somehow know exactly where it is going to go. This joy is only possible because of what I do in this gym, the hours I invest in practice and watching film. And then when the moment of truth arrives, I can let go. It is the ultimate freedom.

Playing at the heightened level of the NBA for 82 games puts me in a state of sustained, concentrated intensity for seven or eight months every year. When the season’s over and I come back to a small gym like this, I refresh and return to my basic love of the game. And a key part of that love of the game—my love of play—is the pleasure I get in finding ways to play better.

When I’m putting in hours to boost my performance, I don’t know exactly how and when it’s going to pay off, but I have faith that it will. Even after all these years in the league, I still have these aha moments in the middle of a game: I’ll see an action or match-up or game situation developing and think, Oh yeah, back in July we gamed out this exact scenario. Now I have an advantage. In the crucial seconds that follow, everything slows down for me as my nervous system reacts. I feel a rush of adrenaline, but it’s targeted for precision work instead of just flooding my system. My airways open up, adding more oxygen to my blood, because my lungs are already supercharged for efficiency from the breathwork I’ve practiced. My heart doesn’t pound, it simply quickens its beat to pump more of that oxygenated blood through my body. The adrenaline even goes to my eyes, which dilate to see every possibility. My brain processes visual information faster than the speed of thought and sets my muscles into motion, following a ready, proven plan. And I just fly. I might do a double behind-the-back crossover, feel the crowd’s anticipation, see the guys on my bench rise as I pull up, and then focus for a split second on the rim as I take a high-pressure shot. The confidence I’ve gained from my practice keeps me in control. I stay in the moment—in a state of alert calm, intensity, and joy.

That’s the lesson I want to share with you in this book. You can get better at whatever you want. I’m inviting you to stretch your imagination as you think about what that means to you. What do you want? It might be your life’s equivalent of layups and free-throws, or you can dream big about hitting game-winners from the logo. But I firmly believe that success is not an accident. Success may not always look the way you expect, but it’s attainable for all of us when the rigor of our preparation and…