Sonya Curry (NBA star Steph's mom) disrespected at Bay Area Ferrari dealer: urban legend??

Yesterday one of my Facebook friends posted up a copy and paste of a story about the mother of NBA superstar Steph Curry going to the Ferrari dealer in San Francisco (sic) to buy her son a new Roma. The story says the sales people snubbed her because they perceived her, as a woman and a person of color, not to be a serious customer. The story goes on that Steph contacted the dealer, not to complain but to establish a couple of programs to reach out to underprivileged youths. I had a couple of problems with the story: that Sonya Curry does not physically appear to be a minority; that in the Bay Area -- the land of the 20-something dot.com billionaire -- no luxury car salesman can safely make assumptions based on the appearance of a customer; that there is no Ferrari dealer on earth who would not be eager to unload a Roma; and that "Ferrari of San Francisco" is located in Mill Valley, 11 miles from SF's auto row. I wonder, has any member of the Ferrari community heard this story before? Is there a grain of truth anywhere in it?

Here's a copy and paste of the Facebook story:

Stephen Curry’s Mother Is Kicked Out of a Ferrari Store — What He Did Behind the Scenes Shook the Luxury World
She walked in to buy her son a Ferrari. She walked out humiliated. What Stephen Curry did next, away from the cameras, didn’t just make headlines—it changed everything. This isn’t just about a car. It’s about justice.
On a bright spring afternoon in San Francisco, the sun gleamed off the polished steel and glass exterior of one of the city’s most prestigious Ferrari dealerships. Inside, salesmen in tailored suits glided across marble floors, greeting customers with practiced charm. Among the hum of whispered negotiations and admiring glances at luxury vehicles, one elegant woman stood alone—Sonia Curry.
She wasn’t here for attention. She wasn’t here for status. She was here for one reason: to surprise her son, NBA superstar Stephen Curry, with a car he had long admired. A Ferrari Roma. The sleek, meticulously designed machine that had caught Steph’s eye in passing on multiple occasions. Sonia had done her homework, chosen the exact configuration, and was prepared to pay in full that day.
But she didn’t expect what came next.
Despite her poised appearance, designer purse, and a confident demeanor that spoke of class and success, Sonia was met with skepticism. Dismissed. Ignored. And ultimately, insulted.
The sales staff subtly, but unmistakably, questioned her motives. One offered her a tour of pre-owned inventory, suggesting “something more accessible.” Another—identified only as Mr. Keller—coldly informed her they were closing early for a “private event,” despite the store being visibly open and mid-afternoon.
And when Sonia calmly stated her reason for being there—to purchase a Ferrari Roma for her son, Stephen Curry—the response was chilling:
“We’d appreciate if you didn’t invent celebrity connections. We’re very busy with serious customers today.”
Stunned but dignified, Sonia left in silence.
But she wasn’t alone for long.
Within hours, her son—one of the most recognizable athletes on the planet—had been informed. And what Steph did next didn’t involve shouting. He didn’t blast the dealership on Instagram. He didn’t threaten lawsuits or call in PR teams.
He did something far more powerful.
He investigated.
Steph quietly launched a multi-pronged inquiry. He wanted facts, not feelings. Within days, he had arranged for multiple individuals to visit the same dealership—some white, some Black, some rich, some dressed down. The pattern was clear and undeniable: differential treatment based on race and perceived status.
The final straw came when even a respected Black neurosurgeon was subtly guided toward “alternative options” after expressing interest in a new Roma.
What Steph uncovered wasn’t just an insult to his mother. It was systemic.
And then, he acted.
In collaboration with civil rights lawyers, brand strategists, and executives at Under Armour—his most powerful brand partner—Steph unveiled a campaign that would rock the luxury retail world: “Respect in Every Space.”
This wasn’t a hashtag. It was a blueprint.
Mandatory training on unconscious bias. Secret shopper programs to track customer treatment. Public accountability dashboards. Anonymous customer feedback systems. And most importantly: no tolerance for discrimination, regardless of how subtle.
Steph brought this plan to the very dealership that had humiliated his mother.
Their first reaction? Panic. Their second? Pleas for silence.
But Steph refused to back down. He didn’t want retribution. He wanted reform.
“I’m not interested in boycotts or headlines,” he told them. “I’m interested in changing how people are treated. Not just here—but everywhere.”
In the months that followed, his initiative grew. Over 200 luxury retailers signed on to adopt the Respect in Every Space protocols. Early data showed a 47% drop in discrimination complaints and a 31% increase in diverse clientele—without any loss in revenue.
Then came the full-circle moment.
Steph escorted his mother back to the same Ferrari dealership. This time, she was greeted with flowers and a sincere apology from a new, diverse management team. And this time, she wasn’t buying a car. She was helping lead a training seminar for their corporate staff.
Steph, ever the visionary, had already moved on to the next phase: a partnership between his Eat. Learn. Play. Foundation and Ferrari to fund youth engineering and design programs in underrepresented communities. Because this wasn’t about one moment. This was about building a new future.
At a press conference unveiling the program, Steph said:
“This started with disrespect. But we turned it into opportunity. Not just for my family, but for thousands of others who deserve to walk into any space and be treated with dignity.”
Back home, at a quiet family dinner in Atherton, Sonia Curry raised a toast.
“You could have used your influence to get even,” she said. “Instead, you used it to build bridges.”
Steph smiled.
Because rings fade. Highlights dim. But real, lasting change? That’s a legacy worth fighting for.