Thompson: The unique relationship between Stephen and Seth Curry — and their third brother (2024)

It was the summer of 2013. Chris Strachan was in Los Angeles with Stephen and Seth Curry. They were working out with trainer Rob McClanaghan at the house of Steven Jackson, CEO of footwear giant ACI International, whose Bel-Air home has a gym with an exact replica of the Staples Center court.

It was the one time Strachan saw the Curry brothers play 1-on-1. A Samsung endorsem*nt deal landed them a new phone with a state-of-the-art camera. They put the pixels to use by having Strachan film the Currys go at it. Stephen was months removed from a Warriors postseason run. Seth was getting ready to enter the NBA after finishing his Duke career.

It was a slaughter.

“Steph was making everything,” Strachan recalled on Monday. “Seth even blocked a couple of shots and they went in because he blocked them. Seth famously says, ‘Steph is the luckiest dude in the whole world.’ Seth really feels like he’s better than Steph. He’s always felt that way.”

The attention is on Stephen and his younger brother Seth as they face off in the Western Conference finals with the Warriors and Trail Blazers, respectively, the first siblings to play against each other in this round, per Elias Sports. But Strachan is the third Curry brother you should know about.

He doesn’t share their last name and lineage. But his bond with them — the way he fits right in, the way they listen to him, laugh with him, trust in him — is like he’s blood. He doesn’t have their height, their athleticism or their shooting ability. He never even made it past JV in high school. But the way he talks ball with them, digests and breaks down the game, it’s as if he, too, can step back with the smoothness.

He isn’t from their neck of the woods or their side of the tracks. He was raised by a single mother in New York, far from the NBA life Stephen and Seth enjoyed in Charlotte with their father, Dell. But he has been enriched by them in ways that reach deeper than money and fame and access.

“I would say it’s as if we came out the same womb,” Strachan said. “They mean everything to me. Watching Steph play ball, it’s one my favorite things to do. And the same way with Seth. I love those dudes to the death. They’re not basketball players to me at all. We’re brothers for real.”

Strachan (pronounced “Strawn”) doesn’t get much time in the spotlight. He is mostly behind the scenes in his world of fashion and sneakers. His only publicity is from running his non-profit, Kick’n It, which uses the influence and attraction of sneaker culture to serve the community — including an annual shoe drive to fight the spread of deadly diseases from contaminated soil in Africa due to lack of proper footwear.

Not many know the Curry boys as well as the one they call “COSeezy.” He was their faithful sidekick at pivotal points in both of their lives. He has been a confidant and a guide. He is a fixture in their inner circle. Blessed by Dell and Sonya Curry, embraced by the family, he has become a fixture in the lives of the two NBA stars. So this is going to be quite the ride for him.

The world will be watching two brothers make history in this series. Their parents will be in the crowd, having flipped a coin to determine which child each will support. Their sister, Sydel Curry-Lee, who is married to Warriors guard Damion Lee, has a history being “Neutral Nance” when her brothers face off.

But Strachan, in his heart of hearts, will be pulling for Seth.

“Steph’s got two MVPs,” he said, “and chips.”

But Seth is building his career. He’s played for six teams in five seasons. After a breakout 2016-17 season in Dallas, when he started 42 games, averaged 12.8 points and shot 48 percent from the field — all career highs, Seth missed all of last season season with a left tibia fracture before signing with Portland this season and playing in a career-high 74 games and shooting 45 percent from 3.

“I mean, he’s had a very interesting journey to get to where he’s at,” Stephen said of Seth. “Dealt with some significant injuries and surgeries as well where he missed two entire years, basically, coming out of college and this past year. So for him to just grind and understand that he belongs on this level and it just took a different path. His confidence in himself never wavered. He works hard. And you can tell why, having missed the entire year last year, Portland wanted him and why he’s in the rotation. It’s been fun to watch him just kind of defy the odds in that sense and be who he is.”

Strachan was pretty much an only child. His mom, Pauline, had one older daughter, and he had another older sister who lived with his dad. But they were both grown and gone when Strachan was young. So it was just him and his mother in their Elmont, N.Y., home, just outside of Queens Village and close enough to hear the roar from the nearby Belmont Park, the last stop of horse racing’s Triple Crown.

At 7 years old, he met two boys who would become close friends. Brendon McRae and Dayan Worrell. They were thick as thieves, from the second grade all the way through high school.

Strachan wasn’t interested in college, but his mother was pressuring him to go. He applied to schools based on where his favorite athletes went. Georgetown because of Allen Iverson. Marshall because of Randy Moss. He didn’t have the grades for some of those schools, so he was just wasting money on the application fees.

“Ain’t no way I was getting into Georgetown,” he said with a laugh.

Mixed into some junk mail was correspondence from Liberty University, a private evangelical Christian college in Lynchburg, Va. The schools was seeking out students of color and came with a collection of grant opportunities. Strachan took the offer. He talked his boys, Brendon and Dayan, into going with him. After a decade together, they couldn’t imagine breaking up the band.

The first thing Strachan did when he got to Liberty was head to the basketball office. He wore a tie and a button-up shirt, some slacks and dressy shoes. He brought three letters of recommendation with him from high school. He desperately wanted to work for the basketball team.

He didn’t make the basketball team in 2001 as a freshman at Sewanhaka High. But his boys did, so he was at every practice and game, anyway. The coach ended up getting him to keep the stats. As a sophom*ore, Strachan made the junior-varsity team, but he kept managing the book for varsity. One more crack at the varsity didn’t pan out, so he gave up and became a full-time statistician for both teams.

He got paid $25 each game. So he made $50 total when the teams played. It was a dream, really. He loved the game and he was in it fully even though he wasn’t playing. He wanted that same experience in college. So he went for it at Liberty. He might’ve been the first manager candidate to show up in church clothes with reference letters.

He got the gig, starting as the lowest on the five-person squad of managers. He quickly learned he wasn’t just keeping the stats. Managers were required to do the laundry, fill water bottles and all kinds of other thankless work. And Strachan loved it. He was inside.

He was watching the game from a new perspective. He was hearing what a huddle sounds like. He was witnessing how plays manifest and the work that goes into being good. Plus, he was enamored by the size of these mid-major hoopers. It was worth it to wash stinky jerseys.

“I was amazed because everyone was so tall,” he said. “A big man where I’m from is 6-1. To see dudes 6-8, 6-9 with that kind of skill, I was enamored. And I just loved the game. Loved it. I didn’t care what I had to do. I just wanted to work for the team.”

Brendon eventually left Liberty. He hated it. Too strict. Too sanctified. He didn’t come back after Thanksgiving break. But Dayan, he liked it and stuck it out.

Strachan, he became COSeezy. Team managers are usually discreet, nameless helpers in uniforms hustling around. But Strachan, he was too fly for that. He brought the New York City style with him to Lynchburg. He was voted “best dressed” in high school and was quite popular. Liberty didn’t change him, as evidenced by the Kanye West-designed Louis Vuitton “Christopher” backpack he sported with always-fresh kicks.

At Liberty, such swag was countercultural. The cool dudes on campus were preachers, praise and worship leaders with crooning voices. Strachan, with his worldly vibes, was more an outcast than he’d ever been. Except to the basketball team, fellow outcasts there for reasons other than spiritual growth, and they gravitated towards Strachan.

In 2007, Ritchie McKay was hired as the men’s basketball coach. It didn’t take long for him to notice Strachan’s influence with the players. He was quickly promoted. McKay created a new position: student assistant. The job included all the manager stuff, but also involved video coordinator and recruiting duties. Strachan was in the game another layer deeper, seeing basketball from a wholly unique vantage point.

He. Was. In. Heaven.

“Coach McKay tapped into a love I had that I didn’t even know,” Strachan said.

Not only did he watch and cut video for his team, he had to do so for every team they faced and could possibly face in the tournament. That’s how he came across Stephen Curry for the first time. He watched the game film of Davidson vs. Maryland in March 2007 and saw Curry drop 30 on noted defender D.J. Strawberry. This became especially relevant when Strachan was assigned to help land Seth Curry.

They met for the first time on Seth’s visit to Liberty in November 2007. They hit it off immediately. Seth is quiet, a bit of a loner. There is an invisible wall erected around Seth even though he masks it well with a smoothness he gets from his dad.

“When I’m chilling with Dell and Seth’s not around, it’s just like chilling with Seth,” Strachan said. “Their mannerisms. Both into music, into ball. Both funny on the low. You don’t have to watch what you say. They both bust out with random songs.

“Steph is just like his mom. He looks like his mom, acts like his mom. But he looks up to his dad. He aspires to be like Dell. But Seth is Dell. They’re the same exact person.“

Strachan knows this because he and Seth hit it off immediately. Seth came back for another visit and hung out with Strachan. The two were fast friends.

It made sense, too. Seth is obsessed with New York culture. The movies. The music. He’s a big Jay-Z fan, the influence evident in Seth’s social media handle — @SDotCurry, a take on one of the rapper’s famous aliases, S. Carter. Strachan was like a professor of cultural studies. And all of the classics Seth missed out on being raised in a New Testament home, Strachan was able to catch him up.

The following March, Strachan headed up to Charlotte to watch Seth play in a high school all-star game. Dell and Sonya were in Detroit following Stephen in the 2008 NCAA Tournament. So Seth invited Strachan to his house to watch the game.

“That’s a big part of what our friendship became,” Strachan said. “Me and him watching Steph play. We’re his biggest fans, for real.”

That August, Seth invited Strachan to a wedding with him. This was an eye-opener for the family. Seth wasn’t the type to invite friends over. The mystery became who was this guy Seth seemed so surprisingly comfortable with?

Strachan said Stephen was cool from the start. Seth’s approval was enough for him. Plus, Stephen got a kick out of Strachan, who drips with New York flair and is an endless well of movie and music references.

“Steph was dying at everything,” Strachan said. “He thought I was mad funny.”

Seth got an offer from Virginia Tech, which didn’t want to miss out on another Curry brother, but the school wanted him to redshirt. Seth was ready to play, so he chose Liberty. He and Strachan were inseparable. Hung together at practice and even when they weren’t in the gym. They sat together on the bus, shared headphones as they watched Jack Bauer escape death on “24,” and roomed together on the road. Strachan didn’t get to go home for most holidays, since New York was so far and the basketball team had less time away because of the schedule. So he would spend holidays at the Curry house, invited by Sonya herself.

One of Strachan’s favorite memories at Liberty was getting to hear Dell talk ball with Seth after every game.

“After the game, Dell gave Seth a coaching rundown,” he said. “It was almost like him breaking down film from memory. Just listening to all this amazing insight he’s giving him was amazing. That was one of the dopest things for me. Here was this NBA player, who I remember when he was in the league, talking about the game to his son. As a student of the game, it was just incredible.”

The summer of 2009 was one of transition. Steph was entering the draft. Seth was transferring out of Liberty. Strachan graduated. But first they spent the summer together in Charlotte. They spent their days shooting hoops, with Strachan a willing rebounder for the two brothers, getting something to eat and chilling. They watched the entire “Entourage” series together, bonding over the meshing of celebrity and brotherhood their lives would come to mimic.

With the Knicks slotted to get the No. 8 pick in the 2009 draft, the Currys set their sights on the Knicks. Everything was pointing to Curry in New York. So it made perfect sense for Strachan go with them. After all, he’d already introduced them to his favorite movie, “Paid in Full,” and chopped cheese sandwiches from a bodega. He was hired.

Though the Warriors stepped in and drafted Stephen seventh overall, sending him to Oakland instead, Strachan was still the obvious choice to join him.

Strachan’s job was to be the gatekeeper to Curry. Everyone would have to go through him. No one could even have Curry’s number. He was to keep Curry’s agency, Octagon, updated and was the liaison for Steph’s EA Sports endorsem*nt, the first deal that required him attend events and bring awareness to the brand. Strachan and Stephen shared cooking duties, though Stephen could hold his own while Strachan took Sonya’s advice and leaned on Dream Dinners.

After being side-by-side with Seth, Strachan was suddenly bonded with Stephen. He even had to reach into his video analysis background and get some highlights together, remind Stephen how he dominates the game, hoping to break him out of some rookie passivity. Strachan still remembers the moment Monta Ellis became Team Curry.

“March 14. Steph’s birthday,” he said of Curry’s rookie season. “We had a party for Steph. Monta went out his way to show love. He bought all the bottles, paid for everything. Monta loved Steph.”

Eventually, Curry blew up and Octagon sent a team of people to serve him. Strachan slipped even further into the background. But the bond the three share had long been solidified. If they are not watching movies together or hanging out and laughing, one of them is messaging back and forth with Strachan as they watch the other Curry play.

When Seth and Denver’s Will Barton got into it during Portland’s second-round series against the Nuggets, Stephen was quickly on Facetime with Strachan dying laughing. When Curry went off against Houston in Game 6, Seth and Strachan traded awe.

Remember earlier this season, this past December, when Seth got hot in Oracle Arena against the Warriors? He lit up the Warriors for 11 points in the fourth quarter, two of his three triples in the period coming against Stephen, including a heat-check side-stepping 3 right over his older brother.

“I was cooking Steph, right?” Seth said to Strachan as soon as he saw him after the Trail Blazers’ one-point victory.

Of course Stephen, after the game, was celebrating his brother’s performance, too. He was quick to point out how nice a few of Seth’s moves were.

“Steph loves it,” Strachan said. “He gets hype for Seth.”

And you know Seth let big bro hear about it.

“For sure, he let me know,” Stephen said.

This is a big part of who they are, why they work so well together. Steph and Strachan have the same fervor rooting for Seth. And when Steph is on the court, Seth and Strachan root hard for Steph.

“So many years I watched Steph playing in the Western Conference finals, the NBA Finals, being in the crowd,” Seth told reporters this week. “So it’s going to be fun to be out there on the court, competing to get to (the Finals). It’s a dream come true for us two.”

Their days of “Entourage” binges and food runs aren’t as frequent. The distance between them, the family obligations, it limits their bro time together as a trio. But Strachan is entrenched in the family now. He’s the third Curry brother.

And here is why this matters so much to him. In February 2011, Brendon McRae died in a car accident. Earlier this year, Dayan Worrell died from an asthma attack. Both of his closest childhood friends are gone. They flanked him through puberty and high school, kept him from being lonely, the only friends his mom would let him spend the night with. But the hurt from his fallen friends is balmed by a most comforting reality that will be on display at Oracle starting Tuesday.

He still has two brothers left.

(Top photo by Andrew D. Bernstein/Getty Images)