The Problem of Favorite Athletes

For years and years, whenever someone asked me, “Who is your favorite athlete?” I never had to hesitate. But this past year, something changed. Reflecting upon that shift has invited me to think much differently about the question and my answer.

Ask me my favorite book, movie, or album, and I’m far less certain. Dead Poets Society is always in the conversation, as is Jane Eyre—though I don’t necessarily feel compelled to revisit either. As for music, Darkness on the Edge of Town remains a classic for me, with The River close behind.

But when it came to athletes, my answer was unwavering. For years, Will Clark, the sweet-swinging left-handed first baseman for the San Francisco Giants, was unapologetically my favorite male athlete. As a lifelong baseball fan, I was always eager to explain why “Will the Thrill” held that top spot.

At the same time, Serena Williams shared the spotlight. With her 23 Grand Slam titles and singular dominance, I could never quite choose between the two of them. So I added the qualifiers “male” and “female” simply to avoid making the impossible decision. Fortunately, I have always had enough space in both my mind and my heart to hold them equally.

But something unexpected happened after the Olympic Games in Paris. Local hero Stephen Curry wore me out and wore me down. The two-time MVP brought home much more than four NBA championships. He became a central figure in the United States’ gold medal run. He had already won the American Century Championship Golf Championship, where I was lucky enough to share a few fun, pithy, and personal exchanges with him between holes. His stock just kept rising. Not only was he God’s favorite basketball player; somehow, he became mine too.

I found myself justifying my answer both to my students and to myself. Why? Part of me wanted to remain loyal to those original icons. But, #30 is everything you could want in a favorite athlete—not only on the court, but off it as well. Although we fans never really know the person behind the public image, I respect everything I have read about and learned from him as a husband, father, son, teammate, and leader. He is a man of faith and service and justice. Thank you, Steph. While I cannot support your outfit at the 2026 Met Gala, you have made the Bay Area—and sports in general—a little better. I mean it.

No one would question someone naming Curry as a favorite athlete. Serena and Will Clark are beloved too. Each is iconic in a different way. But maybe I am still in a transitional phase because, even as I crown Steph the favorite, I cannot quite let the others go.

Today, I read that Aaron Rodgers is returning to the Pittsburgh Steelers. I was thrilled to read the news.Yahoo Sports reports, 

Rodgers' return — to the NFL, the Steelers and to McCarthy — was far from guaranteed. The long-time veteran has flirted with retirement for multiple off seasons now, and there was no guarantee he would want to suit up for a 22nd NFL season.

To me, Rodgers makes football infinitely more interesting. I want to see what the 42-year-old still has left. He has never been my favorite athlete, but discussing him with my class forced me to admit something I have long believed to be true.

I told my students that Rodgers is a four-time MVP with a Super Bowl ring and a future Hall of Fame quarterback whose passer rating remains among the best in NFL history. For years, the man practically never turned the ball over—though, admittedly, last season was not exactly vintage Rodgers.

At the same time, I understand why he frustrates people. He can come across as arrogant or smug. Telling the media he was “immunized” when asked directly about the vaccine felt unconscionable. At times, it almost seems as if he courts a different kind of celebrity through darkness retreats, ayahuasca, and mysterious personal revelations, including the recently revealed wife, Brittani—with an “i.”

He is an unreliable narrator. He is problematic. And yet, I love him. I do. I eat all of it up.

Maybe it's because he is a quasi-local guy made good. I appreciate what he has done for his hometown of Chico in the aftermath of the fires. I respect his loyalty to former Cal head coach Jeff Tedford and the others who shaped him. I could go on listing both the positives and the negatives. In short, I keep him in the mix.

As this conversation unfolded in my Sports and Spirituality class, I realized something about the students sitting in front of me.

Although high school students no longer use the phrase “teacher’s pet,” they still desperately want to know whether teachers have favorites. The truth is: we do and we don’t.

Some students are very much like Steph. They are talented, but they also work relentlessly. They contribute consistently, take risks, raise the bar for everyone around them, and hold both themselves and their classmates accountable. It is hard to deny that they are MVPs.

But there are also students who are more complicated. They are gifted and unreliable. Arrogant or entitled, yet witty and thoughtful. They frustrate you one moment and completely surprise you the next.

Every spring I host my favorite guest speaker, Frank Allocco.
There are so many great kids in this class.

I love these kids too. I mean it.

A friend recently asked whether I had taught the daughter of one of our club members. I had. I coached her as well.

“She was spoiled and a real pain sometimes,” I admitted. “And I loved her. She was bright and original and always had creative takes. I hope she’s doing well.”

Maybe that is what changed my answer after all these years.

Favorite athletes are not simply the people we admire most. Sometimes they are the people we cannot stop thinking about—the ones who frustrate us, surprise us, disappoint us, inspire us, and somehow keep earning our attention anyway.

Steph Curry represents excellence in its purest form. Aaron Rodgers represents something messier and more complicated. My students, of course, are somewhere in between. I know that I am too.

Photo Credits
The Met
Aaron in PGH
8 and 30