In the relentless, high-octane world of the National Basketball Association, age is often an uncompromising master. For point guards, typically smaller players reliant on speed, burst, and explosive change of direction, the mid-30s represent a brutal crossroad—a point where bodies break down, production dips, and the fading light of a legendary career is extinguished.
Yet, stepping onto the court in the 2025–2026 season, the spectacle surrounding Golden State’s number 30 is less about survival and more about shocking, utter dominance. Stephen Curry, a man closing in on his 38th birthday and currently the ninth oldest player in the entire league, is not just hanging on; he is performing at a terrifying, MVP-caliber level that few experts—and perhaps no one in history—would have ever predicted for a player of his size and position. He is, by every measurable metric and by the terrified scramble of opposing defenses, playing like a legend still in his absolute prime, proving that true mastery never ages.
“It’s honestly hell,” one player admitted when describing the experience of going head-to-head with Steph, echoing the sentiment across the league that Curry creates matchup problems that feel unsolvable. His sustained excellence is nothing short of a basketball phenomenon, a prolonged miracle of timing, skill, and discipline that defies conventional sporting wisdom.
The Unstoppable Force: A Look at the 2025-2026 Season
The typical narrative for an aging superstar involves graceful decline—fewer minutes, a reduced role, and numbers that fall back to earth. Curry, however, never dipped in the first place. He is not fighting for a comeback; he is continuing a dynasty.
In the 2025–2026 season, Curry is still running the Golden State offense with total control, averaging around 28 points per game, alongside strong playmaking, and maintaining nearly 39% accuracy from three-point range. While a slight dip below his astronomical peak, these figures are utterly wild considering the gravitational pressure he faces every single night. Defenses are so stressed and panicked about guarding the 37-year-old veteran that they start picking him up at the half-court logo. This level of defensive respect—or more accurately, panic—is usually reserved for players in their athletic peak, not a man approaching two decades in the league.
His last season was no less remarkable, a testament to his longevity. Across 70 games in 2024–2025, Curry averaged roughly 24 points, maintained neat assists, and solid rebounding numbers. Crucially, he remained lethal, knocking down over 300 three-pointers at nearly 40% accuracy, often while defenders were “glued to him like magnets.” From the free-throw line, he was automatic, hitting over 93% with straight precision. His performance earned him his 11th All-Star spot, another stamp on a legacy that flatly refuses to slow down.
Beyond the season-by-season stats, Curry is now chasing down history against the all-time greats. He recently tied Michael Jordan for the most 40-point games by players 30 or older. Jordan, widely regarded as the most dominant player ever, set a benchmark that Curry, a smaller, less physically imposing guard, is now equaling and preparing to surpass. This is not just about extending a career; it’s about breaking records once thought untouchable at this advanced stage.
The Blueprint of Dominance: Skill Over Raw Power
The real question isn’t what he’s doing, but how he is still doing it. Why does Curry’s body not look worn down? Why does his shot, nearly 20 years in, still look smooth, and why is that lightning-quick release as scary as ever?
The answer lies in a combination of three revolutionary factors: biomechanics, professionalism, and a mastery-level basketball IQ.
Secret #1: The Biomechanical Advantage
Curry doesn’t move like a typical superstar from his era. His style is built on clean, efficient movement, a stark contrast to the explosive, high-impact styles of many contemporaries. Consider two other elite guards: Kyrie Irving’s game relies on violent cuts, sudden stops, and heavy torque, stressing the knees and ankles. Damian Lillard’s approach is pure force—explosive first steps and power drives built on athletic impact. These moves look incredible but punish the body, wearing players down and shortening careers.
Curry, conversely, operates with calculation. Every cut is smooth, every speed change is controlled, and every landing is calculated. His hips, ankles, and core stay meticulously aligned, ensuring his body absorbs minimal stress. His mechanics are designed to let him glide through games, saving energy and avoiding unnecessary wear and tear. His jumper is not just smooth; it is a defensive mechanism that protects his body, allowing him to move like it’s 2015 while other guards slowed down in their early 30s.
Secret #2: Unseen Professionalism and Discipline
The second, and perhaps most valuable, secret is the behind-the-scenes grind that fans rarely witness. Curry shows up every day with the intensity of a rookie fighting for a roster spot. As his longtime trainer Brandon Payne has stated, nothing in Curry’s workouts is random; every drill has intent, every motion is scored, and every session is competitive. This unwavering discipline keeps him sharper than players a decade younger.
Off the court, his lifestyle is a blueprint for elite longevity. He maintains a hyper-focused regime of clean eating, rigorous sleep schedules, and intense recovery—stretching, therapy, and balance work are non-negotiable parts of his daily blueprint. This attention to detail has allowed him to avoid the pitfalls that have derailed the careers of other supremely gifted athletes. Where players like Zion Williamson have been slowed by inconsistent habits or Ben Simmons’ career plateaued due to a lack of steady preparation, Curry is the absolute opposite. He treats every season as a chance to prove himself, demonstrating that a commitment to minute detail yields maximum output over time.
Secret #3: The Triumph of Basketball IQ
Curry’s foundation was never raw athletic power, which is the first trait to diminish with age. His game is built on skill, timing, IQ, and movement—the traits that age with grace and, in fact, improve with experience.
As he got older, Curry smartly evolved. He’s creating more for his teammates, reading defenses like a chess genius, and controlling the pace with surgical timing. This veteran mindset is the ultimate cheat code, allowing his brainpower to stretch his career far longer than his vertical jump ever could. He is refining the tiny details: when to attack, when to move off-ball, and when to slow the game down to twist defenses his way.
This shift in style—mixing in more mid-range shots and slick drives instead of solely forcing deep bombs—is the sign of a master craftsman. He’s blending rhythm and efficiency, proving that he’s not just living off long-range highlights but has evolved into a full leader who sets the tone with a calm, dangerous confidence.
Even the people closest to him are stunned. The Warriors owner admitted, “I’ll be honest, I didn’t expect this. If you’d asked me five or 10 years ago if these guys would still be playing and playing at this level, I never would have guessed it.” Younger teammates are equally blown away, noting that the 37-year-old legend is still the first in the gym and the last to leave.
By 37 or 38, almost every great point guard in history—Magic Johnson, Isiah Thomas, John Stockton, Steve Nash—was retired or barely holding on, their bodies worn down and production fading. But Steph Curry, the small guard in a league built for giants, hasn’t lost a single step. His handles are still smooth, his release is still lightning-fast, and his calm swagger is fully loaded.
Stephen Curry is not just extending his career; he is fundamentally rewriting what longevity and greatness look like in basketball. He is demonstrating that real mastery outlives athletic power and that true skill, honed by discipline and scientific efficiency, never ages. Love him or hate him, every time he steps on the court, we are watching history happen—one smooth cut, one calculated landing, and one deep, impossible three-pointer at a time.
