Imagine meeting the greatest shooter in NBA history and getting to practice hoops with him—sounds like a dream, right? But in the wild world of college basketball, this is becoming reality, and it's sparking a revolution where NBA superstars are stepping into unexpected roles as general managers for their old schools. Buckle up, because this trend is not just about fame; it's reshaping how colleges recruit and compete in a game that's changed forever.
Picture this: It was a sweltering July day, and junior guard Josh Scovens felt his palms turning into slip 'n slides at the thought of even gripping a basketball, let alone launching shots. The Davidson men's basketball squad had taken over a high school gym in the Bay Area for some off-season training. "Just act natural," Scovens muttered to himself as he nodded to freshman guard Devin Brown. They turned away from the entrance and began their warm-up routine, while sophomore forward Manie Joses chased down rebounds. After a few attempts, Joses's eyes widened in shock.
"Amazed by our skills already?" Scovens joked. But then came a gentle pat on his shoulder. He spun around, mouth agape.
"Hey there," greeted the man, shaking hands. "I'm Steph."
"Y-yeah!" Scovens stammered, starstruck by none other than Stephen Curry, Davidson's legendary graduate. "Obviously!"
Back in 2008, a lanky 20-year-old Curry propelled Davidson to an unforgettable Elite Eight showdown. Now, as a 11-time All-Star and four-time NBA champion with the Golden State Warriors, he's stayed deeply connected to his alma mater. Things escalated in March when Davidson revealed Curry as their assistant general manager for both men's and women's basketball—a groundbreaking collaboration with a current pro athlete. This announcement ignited a movement in college sports.
Other active NBA players soon followed suit, taking on comparable positions at their former universities. Think Blazers guard Damian Lillard at Weber State, Hawks guard Trae Young at Oklahoma, Nets guard Terance Mann at Florida State, and recently, Celtics star Jayson Tatum as Duke's inaugural chief basketball officer.
You don't have to be a current player or even an alum to join the fun: Hall of Famer Shaquille O’Neal serves as GM at Sacramento State, where his son Shaqir, a senior, plays under rookie coach Mike Bibby, a 14-year NBA vet.
These celebrities pitch in on fundraising, recruitment, and whatever else is needed. Yet, the "GM" designation is largely symbolic. Around two-thirds of top-tier college teams employ dedicated GMs (or equivalents) to handle team assembly, including managing multi-million-dollar budgets via revenue splits and fan-funded groups.
In college football, big names have embraced full-time GM roles at places like Stanford (Andrew Luck), Cal (Ron Rivera), and UNC (Michael Lombardi). They work on campus daily, overseeing rosters, scouting, and salary talks, freeing coaches to focus on strategies. At Stanford, Luck even controls staff hires and firings.
But NBA stars, balancing their own training and game schedules, can't dive in as deeply. Still, schools are scrambling to stand out in the Name, Image, and Likeness (NIL) era—a system where athletes can profit from endorsements, making recruitment a fierce battle. For mid-major programs without football income, the risk of becoming mere talent feeders for bigger conferences looms large.
And this is the part most people miss: Money is key to leveling the playing field. Curry, teaming up with Davidson soccer alum Matt Berman and his family, launched a fund for both men's and women's hoops. While exact figures aren't disclosed, Davidson's lead GM Austin Buntz, who once worked with Curry at Under Armour, calls it "well into the eight figures." Curry vowed in March to keep championing Davidson.
The school covered the Bay Area trip from its regular funds. Scovens, a transfer from Army, had hoped for a quick meet-and-greet with Curry—he never imagined drills alongside him.
"Everyone knew Steph supported us quietly," Buntz explained. "We decided to formalize it, and boom, it exploded. We didn't expect other schools to come knocking, asking for our blueprint."
But here's where it gets controversial: Are these NBA icons truly adding value, or is this just a flashy PR stunt? On one hand, critics might argue it's more about boosting egos and marketing than real impact, especially since the roles are mostly honorary. On the other, it could democratize college sports, giving underdogs a chance to attract top talent through star power.
Take Lillard: Despite being drafted 13 years ago, he texts Weber State coach Eric Duft post-game with insights. He visits Ogden, Utah, often, advising young players on overcoming obscurity—he went from no powerhouse offers to nine All-Star nods. Duft notes Lillard's blunt honesty about his challenges.
Still, Weber State's players sometimes get too dazzled to listen. "After his talk this summer, two admitted they zoned out for the first 15 minutes," Duft shared. They're too in awe.
Now, Lillard's officially Weber State's men's basketball GM, leading a new chapter for the Wildcats. As he put it, "Mentorship matters to me, guiding the sport positively." He envisions attracting elite prospects to schools like his, offering something money can't buy.
He hit the ground running, spotting an overlooked point guard from Oakland—reminding anyone of his own story? ArDarius Grayson signed in March and debuts November 3.
"Whatever Dame said, it clicked," Grayson recalled.
None take salaries, though Weber State considers a small stipend for Lillard—maybe $1 a year—to allow official perks like road trips or AAU events.
"We're checking rules for things like that," Duft said. "He might want to dive deeper."
Young, after Oklahoma's early NCAA exit last year, heard coach Porter Moser lament retention struggles in the NIL and transfer portal world. Living in Norman off-season, Young roots for the Sooners, even trash-talking rivals. He appeared on ESPN's "College GameDay" in September, rallying fans with "Boomer! Sooner!" chants before a game.
Feeling compelled to assist a program that's missed the tournament three of four years, Young plans active involvement. "I won't chat with every recruit, but for big names, I'll definitely reach out," he stated. "If we're not pursuing someone hard enough, I'll flag it. I won't overstep, but I'll share thoughts."
At Sacramento State, O’Neal attends events to woo donors, aiming to elevate the Hornets toward major football status. He hasn't visited practices or mentored Shaqir yet, but Bibby welcomes him anytime.
"We let Shaq be Shaq," Bibby chuckled. "Even if he picks up one call in three, we're thrilled."
In July, Curry didn't just host Davidson's Bay Area session—he joined drills in a Wildcats jersey, missing shots like everyone else. "He airballed nine threes straight!" Scovens exclaimed. "But his vibe stayed upbeat, cheering us through misses. It showed even legends struggle—that's motivating."
Players appreciated his relatability. Coach Matt McKillop, seeking his first tournament berth in four seasons, knew it. "Steph embodies Davidson daily," he said, noting his father's tenure coaching Curry. "That week could fill a book—his prep, kindness, representation... it's Davidson's best ad."
"Players might tune out coaches," McKillop added, "but they'll listen to Steph."
Junior guard Parker Friedrichsen called it surreal: "We can tell recruits basketball's priority here—you'll get an awesome ride, plus Steph."
Scovens summed it up: "He's the coolest celeb I've met. I consider him a friend now!"
He hesitated. "Well, not like I have his number or anything."
— The Athletic’s Fred Katz contributed reporting.
So, what's your take? Do you think NBA stars like Curry and Lillard are genuinely boosting college programs, or is this more about personal branding at a time when schools need every edge? Is it fair for active pros to influence recruitment while juggling NBA duties? Share your thoughts in the comments—agree or disagree, let's discuss!
