SHAQUILLE O’NEAL ADMITS HE UNDERESTIMATED STEPHEN CURRY ON PODCAST AND GETS EMOTIONAL EXPLAINING WHY…

In a rare and emotionally charged episode of The Big Podcast with Shaq, NBA legend Shaquille O’Neal opened up in a way fans had never seen before. The usually jovial giant, known for his dominance on the court and larger-than-life personality, offered a candid confession: he had underestimated Stephen Curry. And in that moment of vulnerability, he revealed a journey of doubt, realization, and deep respect that reshaped his view of the game.

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The podcast studio was dimly lit with soft studio lights casting a warm glow across the set. Shaq shifted his 7’1″, 325-pound frame into the custom-made chair, reinforced to accommodate his size. Around him, co-hosts and a special NBA guest prepared for the topic of the day: transformation in the NBA.

“Today we’re going to talk about players who completely changed the game,” the co-host announced, turning to Shaq with a knowing smile.

On the screen behind them, a montage of Shaquille O’Neal’s career highlights played. Devastating dunks, shattered backboards, and defenders being tossed aside like rag dolls. It was a reminder of Shaq’s era—an age of physical dominance. The guest narrator described Shaq as a “force of nature who literally forced the NBA to rewrite its rules.”

But then the footage transitioned.

Stephen Curry appeared on screen. At 6’2″ and 185 pounds, he was no physical titan. Yet, there he was, launching shots from impossible distances, weaving between defenders, his mouthguard dangling as he danced down the court. A new era had begun.

“You always valued physical dominance,” the co-host said, turning to Shaq. “What did you think when this skinny kid started changing basketball with three-point shots?”

Shaq’s demeanor shifted. His normally booming voice softened. He looked away for a moment, his chest rising with a deep breath.

“I’m going to be completely honest here,” he began. “I didn’t believe it. I simply didn’t believe it.”

The studio fell silent.

“I come from a school where basketball is won in the paint. I was the Big Aristotle. The Diesel. My game was about overpowering opponents. When I saw Steph Curry—this kid from Davidson who looked like a teenager—I thought, ‘This is a fad. It won’t last.’”

A nostalgic smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“And that… was the beginning of my mistake.”

The screen showed the 2009 NBA Draft. A young Curry, nervous but hopeful, waited in his suit. David Stern’s voice echoed, “With the seventh pick in the 2009 NBA Draft, the Golden State Warriors select Stephen Curry.”

Six teams had passed on him. Six missed opportunities.

“I didn’t pay attention,” Shaq admitted. “To me, he was just another shooter. I’d seen plenty of guys like him come and go.”

Images flashed across the screen—an early-career Curry wearing a Warriors jersey too big for his frame, limping off the court with ankle injuries, facing critics who questioned his durability.

“When he had those ankle problems, I thought, ‘This is what happens with these small guys. They can’t take the grind of the NBA.’”

Shaq paused, shaking his head at his past assumptions.

“I was on TNT back then, and I said on air: shooting teams don’t win championships. I compared three-point shots to jabs in boxing—they don’t knock anyone out.”

Clips from Inside the NBA showed Shaq declaring exactly that, flanked by Charles Barkley, Kenny Smith, and Ernie Johnson.

“I had this philosophy etched in my mind: the strongest man dictates the rules. It worked for me. Four rings. MVP. Hall of Fame. It was hard to believe there was another path.”

The screen displayed the evolution of the Warriors from 2013 to 2014. Curry, now confident and healthy, started hitting from deeper and deeper. His name began circulating among the league’s rising stars.

“Even when they started winning,” Shaq said, “I thought, ‘Okay, regular season is one thing. Wait till the playoffs.’ I figured their style would collapse under playoff physicality.”

Shaq rubbed his face, visibly wrestling with the memory.

“I wasn’t alone in this. I talked to Charles, to Karl Malone, even to Jordan. We all thought the same. It was like a brotherhood of dinosaurs.”

He laughed at himself, but the undertone was clear: they were wrong.

Then came the moment he couldn’t ignore.

The screen flashed to February 27, 2016. Warriors vs. Thunder. Final seconds of overtime. The score tied.

“Curry crosses half court, still over 30 feet out,” Shaq narrated. “And he just pulls up and shoots. No hesitation. Swish. Game over.”

Oracle Arena erupted. Curry had nailed his 12th three-pointer of the game. Kevin Durant’s stunned face said it all.

“I watched that game from home. I still remember the disbelief. And yet… my first thought was ‘luck.’ I was still trying not to see what was right in front of me.”

The footage fast-forwarded. Warriors winning the 2015 title. Curry holding the trophy, confetti falling. Shaq, then on TV, dismissed the win, citing injuries to Kyrie Irving and Kevin Love.

“I was looking for excuses,” he admitted, his voice almost a whisper.

But something was changing.

“One night I was watching a game with my son. He loved Curry. Obsessed. And he looked at me and asked, ‘Dad, why don’t you like Steph? Is it because he plays differently than you?’”

Shaq swallowed hard, clearly moved.

“That hit me. Out of the mouth of a child. It made me question myself—was this about basketball, or was it about my ego?”

A photo appeared of Shaq speaking to Dell Curry, Steph’s father.

“Dell told me how Steph trained as a kid. The hours of repetition. The drills. How he had to work twice as hard because he wasn’t the tallest or fastest.”

Then came a montage. Kids around the world mimicking Curry. Shooting from far beyond the arc, not dunking like Shaq.

“I started seeing it everywhere,” Shaq said. “The kids didn’t want to be me anymore. They wanted to be Steph. That’s when I realized: this guy isn’t just good. He’s changing the DNA of the game.”

The camera zoomed in. Shaq’s eyes were misty.

“Look,” he said, his voice cracking. “It’s not easy for someone my size, with my ego, to say this. But I was completely wrong about Stephen Curry. Not just about his game, but about what greatness really means.”

A final video showed a behind-the-scenes interaction between Shaq and Curry. The physical contrast was comical—Shaq towering, Curry average-sized. But the respect was mutual.

“Few people know this,” Shaq revealed. “But I sought Steph out at an NBA event. I told him I underestimated him. You know what he said? He smiled and told me he grew up watching me. That I inspired him.”

Shaq shook his head in admiration.

“His humility… after all he’s achieved… it hit me.”

Images rolled: Curry breaking records, lifting trophies, changing how teams recruit and train.

“I spent my whole life thinking there was only one path to greatness: strength. Imposing your will. Steph showed me another kind. Precision. Skill. Intelligence.”

Shaq leaned forward.

“As an analyst, as a former player, I have a responsibility. The game evolves. We have to evolve with it.”

And then, with a grin, he pointed to the camera.

“But let me make one thing clear: if Steph tried to take me in the paint, it would still be a disaster for him.”

Laughter erupted in the studio.

Just as Curry redefined basketball, Shaq was redefining himself—a legend, still learning, still growing, and unafraid to admit when greatness takes a new shape.

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