SAN JUAN (William Rosario's Somewhere in the Americas) - By now you’ve probably heard all about how Stephen Curry brought his daughter to steal the show at the opening presser of the Western Conference Finals of the NBA. What you probably don't know (that is if you live outside of the USA 24/7 sports media and Twitter-world) is that it has sparked a debate on press conference etiquette.

Briand Windhorst and Skip Bayless, two of ESPN's biggest media personalities talked about it in one of the network's highest rated show.

It is an unpopular stand to take. But one has to be fair in not dismissing quickly the opinion of two road warriors of the profession. They have their point, and I agree with it being a workplace for them and with the fact that they have deadlines to meet, but I disagree with the sense of importance they put around press conferences.

In the last five years I've been involved in an innumerable amount of press conferences. I work (attend) around 200 games in an average calendar year, putting the press conferences together is part of my job and I've come to notice how little is revealed and how standard the answers are in the immense majority of them.

"We take it day by day"

"Our objective is never getting too high or too low"

"Our motto is to always respect the opponent"

"Defense is our priority, it wins games for us"

"The team is always first" 

Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera…

These are some of the phrases endlessly repeated in press conference after press conference in basketball arenas around the world.

I cannot deny that I've been present at some powerful, emotional, and memorable pressers, like when coach Chot Reyes spoke about his pre-game speech just before Philippines broke a 40-year winless drought at last year's FIBA Basketball World Cup.

"In my pre-game, I just said that let's play a game that will make people remember us for the rest of our lives. Nobody knows how long we'll be here. but in the end of whatever we're doing, what we leave behind is the pride that our children will feel when they speak our names. And I told the players to think of their kids," said Reyes.

I was there in the same kind of scenario, when Leones de Quilpue coach Claudio Jorquera went after two broadcasters that had criticized his team the night before. They came out the next day, almost pulled off an upset against Quimsa of Argentina (a huge favorite) and in the press conference Jorquera started to sob.

"This effort goes out to the people that insulted our country last night. Chilean basketball comes from a very humble structure, but we are proud people. This is a team that wants to grow, that wants to learn from the best and what I heard last night is not conducive to the development of our beautiful sport in the Americas," said Jorquera.

My thing is I would argue that, even when on the surface one might feel that it is a distraction or a disruption for the possibility of those kinds of emotional statements happening, the Curry press conference fits in that category. His daughter made it memorable and made us see a side of him that is not always on display; an unspoken, paternal human side of Curry that brings another layer to this 2015 magical and breakout year for him.

Kudos to the journalists that were able to make the press conference into a basketball story, while also making it about his daughter. They got it right.

Being in the middle of the hurricane that is a playoff run, a high stakes international tournament or just a 24/7 basketball atmosphere can make you lose perspective of what is really important in life. I myself lose it sometimes so I can understand how one can get volatile about anything interrupting or poking our vacuum. It makes us lose sight of the fact that Curry was just a father, bringing his daughter to work, for 15 minutes.

Those are the moments that I love the most.

When I'm in the middle of that hurricane, those moments that automatically get me out of it and put everything into the right perspective. Whenever I see a basketball player that we point our collective finger to for not being clutch or for blowing a play, go into the arms of his/her mother or father and start crying… that I love. Whenever I see a basketball player make a big shot and go straight to his significant other to kiss and hug them… that I love. To see a winning team have their kids in the celebration picture… that I love. Sports reminding me of its capacity to extract unadulterated, unfiltered feelings out of a human being, that's everything.

Since this is a Twitter and North-American-ESPN-employee heavy column, I'll close by quoting my favorite paragraph from a favorite writer of mine that has somewhat revolutionized social media with his departure from the worldwide leader in sports network:

"Then I remembered something. Sports is a metaphor for life. Everything is black and white on the surface. You win, you lose, you laugh, you cry, you cheer, you boo, and most of all, you care. Lurking underneath that surface, that's where all the good stuff is - the memories, the connections, the love, the fans, the layers that make sports what they are. It's not about watching your team win the Cup as much as that moment when you wake up thinking 'In 12 hours, I might watch my team win the Cup'. It's about sitting in the same chair for Game 5 because that chair worked for you in Game 3 and Game 4, and somehow, this has to mean something. It's about using a urinal between periods, realizing that you're peeing on a Devils card, then eventually realizing that some evil genius placed Devils cards in every single urinal. It's about leaning out of a window to yell at people wearing the same jersey as you, and it's about noticing an airport security guy staring at your Celtics jersey and knowing he'll say, "You think they win tonight?" before he does. It's about being an NBA fan but avoiding this year's Western Conference Finals because you still can't believe they ripped your team away, and it's about crying after that same series because you can't believe your little unassuming city might win the title. It's about posing for pictures before a Stanley Cup clincher, then regretting after the fact that you did. It's about two strangers watching you cry at a stoplight. It's black and white, but it's not."

Bill Simmons, who wrote that paragraph, was always on point about this. Sports (basketball in our case) are about the moments, not the comments.

William Rosario

FIBA

FIBA's columnists write on a wide range of topics relating to basketball that are of interest to them. The opinions they express are their own and in no way reflect those of FIBA.

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