It’s hard to find words sometimes when something just knocks the wind out of you—especially when it happens in the middle of something magical. That’s how Game 1 of the Western Conference Semifinals between the Warriors and Timberwolves felt. It had the makings of another chapter in the Stephen Curry legacy: a tightly contested battle, the veteran trying to guide his team past a tough, gritty, defensive-minded Minnesota squad. And then, like a record scratching in the middle of a classic album, Steph went down.
Now, I’ve seen my fair share of basketball injuries—ankle tweaks, knee bumps, shoulder sprains—but the second Curry pulled up lame and hobbled off the court, I immediately said what so many long-time fans and writers have said before: that’s not good. In fact, in a conversation with my fellow writer Steve Leblang about Game 1 I said what needed to be said: Hamstring injuries are tricky. And while this one’s being called a groin issue, anyone who’s followed the NBA long enough knows groin injuries tend to fall in the same frustratingly unpredictable category.
There’s no way to sugarcoat it: Curry’s injury is a gut punch. And he echoed those same words today when he spoke with reporters. He called the whole thing “a gut punch” and admitted he has no timeline for his return. No one needed to hear that. Especially not the Warriors. And not the fans either.
When he went down, you could feel the air get sucked out of the balloon. The Timberwolves bench, to their credit, stayed focused. But on the Golden State side, there was an eerie sense of familiarity—because this team was just here a couple weeks ago when Jimmy Butler suffered a back injury against the Houston Rockets. It’s like déjà vu in the worst possible way. Curry is not just a star. He is the system. The team doesn’t just revolve around him—it flows because of him and Butler. So, when he limps off the court, everything feels a little… off.
And that’s the thing with these types of injuries. They don’t always look catastrophic in the moment. There’s no blood, no clear break, no dramatic fall. But the aftermath? That’s where it hits. You sit there watching him grimace on the bench, you see the trainers whispering, you see him walk to the back—not running, not even jogging—and suddenly your mind races to all those past groin injuries in the league that sidelined guys for weeks, sometimes months. You remember Chris Paul struggling with groin and hamstring issues at different times during the playoffs in previous seasons. Both those injuries usually start off “minor” but linger like a bad habit.
It’s not just about pain—it’s about movement. Curry’s entire game is built on perpetual motion. Off-ball screens, sudden stops, quick changes of direction, little bursts of acceleration. That groin muscle is like the engine oil in a Ferrari. Without it, you’re just sitting in the garage revving the engine, going nowhere.
So now the big question isn’t just when Curry returns. It’s whether he can return in this series at all—and if he does, what version of him will we be getting?
That’s what scares fans most.
Because we’ve seen Steph try to play through stuff before. He’s not the kind of guy to sit out unless it’s serious. This is the same guy who’s fought through ankle instability, knee sprains, and all kinds of little ailments that come with being the focal point of an offense for over a decade. But groins and hamstrings? Those don’t play fair. You can’t tape it up and fight through. You can’t will it into healing. You just have to sit, stretch, and hope.
And “hope” isn’t exactly a winning game plan in the playoffs.
Let’s take a step back for a second and look at what this means for Golden State. They didn’t exactly come into this postseason as a juggernaut. This was a team that scrapped their way into contention, figured out how to maximize Draymond Green in the half court again and found a nice rhythm with younger guys like Jonathan Kuminga and Moses Moody stepping up. But let’s not kid ourselves: without Curry, this team becomes mortal. Very, very mortal.
The Timberwolves are no joke. They are long, aggressive, and defensively disruptive. Anthony Edwards has stepped up in every way this season—his scoring, his leadership, even his on-ball defense. He’s got that gleam in his eye like he knows it’s his time.
So, if Curry misses time—and based on his tone today, he’s probably missing more than a game or two—what does that mean for the Warriors? It means more pressure on guys like Butler and Draymond to carry the offensive and defensive loads. It means Quentin Post may have to be more than just the steady hand—he may have to put show some leadership skill and give them 15–20 points a night. And the rest of the young bench that’s been promising but untested in high-leverage playoff moments also has to grow up real fast.
But mostly, it means the Warriors have to find a way to win games without the guy who’s been their north star for over a decade. And that’s not something you just figure out overnight.
Let’s go back to Curry’s comment: It’s a gut punch. This is a loaded phrase. It’s not just a way of saying this sucks. It’s saying, this knocked the life out of me. It’s emotional. It’s honest. It’s the kind of thing a guy says when he feels like his body is betraying him at the worst possible time. Curry knows his basketball clock is ticking. He’s 37 now. He’s not looking at many more deep playoff runs, especially in a loaded Western Conference where new stars are emerging every season.
This was supposed to be one of those statement years. A don’t forget about me kind of playoff run. Instead, we’re sitting here wondering if we’ve already seen the last of him this postseason.
And trust me, no one wants to say that out loud. But when a player says there’s no timeline, it’s not a good sign. That means the medical team doesn’t even want to risk floating a target date. That means there’s a real possibility the Warriors have to find a way to advance without him and maybe—just maybe—get him back in the Conference Finals if they make it that far.
But the question is—can they even get there without him?
There’s another side to this too. The mental toll. Curry is one of the most joyful players the league has ever seen. His game is rooted in joy—pull-up threes, dazzling finishes, celebrations with the bench. You can see he loves the game. So when he sits down with the media, sounding drained and defeated, it tells you everything you need to know. He’s hurting. Not just physically—but mentally, emotionally. He wanted this series. He wanted this moment.
And now he’s on the sideline.
Warriors fans are resilient. They’ve seen the highs and the lows. But this one stings differently. Because this wasn’t a tank year or a reload year. This was supposed to be one more ride with the core. One more run with Curry, Butler, and Draymond making magic. Maybe it wouldn’t end in a championship, but it was supposed to be competitive. It was supposed to be whole.
Now it’s in limbo.
We shouldn’t write off the Warriors entirely. That would be foolish. They’ve done too much, proven too many people wrong over the years. But let’s not pretend the mountain isn’t steeper now. And as someone who’s watched this team evolve over the past decade, I can tell you—it’s never been steeper without No. 30.
Steph’s groin injury might be one line in the box score from Game 1, but it’s a headline that could define this entire postseason for Golden State. His comment about it being a gut punch isn’t just accurate—it could end up being prophetic.
All we can do now is wait. Wait for updates. Wait for signs of progress. Wait for Steph to walk back into the tunnel with his uniform on again instead of street clothes.
Here’s the thing, folks: If there’s one thing I know about Curry, it’s this: he doesn’t go down without a fight. If there’s even a sliver of hope—he’ll find it. And if the Warriors can hold on just long enough, maybe we get one more magical Curry moment before this ride is over.
With that… We hold our breath, clutch our notes from Game 1, and keep repeating what I told Steve the next day: these injuries are tricky.
Because tricky, in this case it might be the difference wind up being heartbreak and another deep playoff run for the Warriors.
If you cannot play with them, then root for them!