It's the sort of script that might appear on the doorstep of Verso Entertainment, the film production company owned by Warriors guard/budding Hollywood insider Baron Davis.

Improbable, of course. But then isn't that typical of feel-good sports movies?

Tough kid grows up in an even tougher part of South-Central Los Angeles, supported by a beloved grandmother. He lands a scholarship at an exclusive high school, where he mingles with kids of the rich and famous. He goes on to star at UCLA and make a name for himself in pro basketball.

Then come the setbacks. Injuries. Losing. Whispers that he's headstrong, melodramatic, uncoachable.

But he silences the critics by leading a misfit-filled squad to a stunning upset of the NBA's best team - playing the final game virtually on one leg because of an injury. In the last scene, his arms are stretched high as confetti falls and he's drenched in cheers.

Roll credits.

The best part for Davis: He wouldn't even have to pay for the rights to his own story of redemption.

"You just always knew that he was going to do something special," actress Kate Hudson said in the Warriors locker room after they closed out the Dallas Mavericks on Thursday. Hudson was a classmate of Davis' at Santa Monica's Crossroads School. "So this doesn't surprise me at all. He was meant to do this."

But to the basketball world, this still was a shocker. Davis' talent always has been undeniable. Yet so were the knocks that he wasn't a team player or a leader. But as Davis willed his broken body and the Warriors past the Mavericks, he catapulted himself onto the short list of the NBA's most dominant players.

"I get a lot of personal satisfaction that what I told the guys early in the season came true," Davis said. "I said that if we make the playoffs, watch what happens and how we'll elevate ourselves. What better feeling is there than when nobody believes in you, nobody gives you a chance, and then you make history?"

It would be a film plot filled with twists and turns - just like Davis' entire life.

No culture shock

Michael Warren first noticed a new friend of his son, Cash, in a junior high basketball game.

"I remember thinking that it was too bad that this little guy was only 5-6, because he could be a great player," said Warren, a former UCLA All-American who turned to acting and was best known for his role on "Hill Street Blues" as Officer Bobby Hill. "To this day, I think the thing that was most unexpected about Baron is that he ever grew."

Davis was straddling two worlds that couldn't be more different. He was raised by his grandmother, Lela "Madea" Nicholson, in a rough neighborhood near the epicenter of L.A. gang violence. But he also was attending school with people such as, well, Hudson, the daughter of actress Goldie Hawn.

"Here's a kid from the hard-core inner city and now he's around all these rich, white kids at one of the best private schools in the country," Warren said. "And yet he still had a street swagger that was pretty cool."

The young Davis became a regular at the Warren home, often sleeping overnight. Warren had grown up in projects in South Bend, Ind., so he had a pretty good idea about what Davis' life was like.

"My wife and I always treated him like he was our son," Warren said. "I think Baron saw us as a family that was just normal. I had a little bit of celebrity, but I was still a struggling actor. Our kids didn't drive BMWs to school. We were just regular people who cared for him."

For her part, Hudson can't recall the gregarious Davis ever showing signs of culture shock at Crossroads.

"He grew up around a very interesting world," she said. "But Baron's focus was a lot different than most kids that age. He knew exactly what he wanted to do. He was extremely focused. He never partied. But he also was popular. He was quite the star at our little school."

That was just the start. Davis was the Pacific-10 Conference freshman of the year. A third-team All-American as a sophomore. The No.3 pick of the 1999 NBA draft by Charlotte. A two-time All-Star who also was a third-team All-NBA choice in 2004.

Then everything changed.

He was plagued by injuries. The Hornets fired Paul Silas, a coach whom Davis respected. The guard soured on the organization, which by then had moved to New Orleans, and feuded with Coach Byron Scott. Meanwhile, the Hornets considered Davis a petulant malingerer who milked injuries to force his way out.

When Davis was traded to Golden State in February 2005, the cheap price the Warriors paid - Speedy Claxton and Dale Davis - indicated how dramatically his stock had fallen. Hornets owner George Shinn even told the New York Times that Davis was like "poison" in the locker room.

"He got a bad rap," Silas said. "A lot of people said bad things about him, and I always defended him. It got to the point where people thought there must be something wrong with me. But that just wasn't the guy who I knew."

Hornets General Manager Jeff Bower, through a team spokesman, declined to be interviewed about Davis. But Bower told a New Orleans newspaper last week: "Sometimes change is good for people. ... We're happy for him."

The Warriors finished strong that 2004-05 season with Davis, but last season disintegrated into another miserable campaign. Davis missed 28 games while he and Warriors Coach Mike Montgomery never meshed. Davis' best days seemed behind him.

But the second coming of former Warriors coach Don Nelson, who replaced Montgomery last summer, rejuvenated his career.

"I want a coach who I can learn from," Davis insisted last fall. "I want to be coached."

Nelson and Davis needed each other. Davis knew that if he clashed with another coach, his reputation would be sealed. And Nelson couldn't succeed without Davis. What may have started as a marriage of convenience evolved into a true partnership.

"None of us knew how it was going to work," said center Adonal Foyle, the Warriors' elder statesman. "They talked a lot. It was clear that they both wanted certain things. Coach wanted to play his style and Baron wanted some control. They came up with a shared philosophy and have become a perfect complement for each other."

New Warriors

But it wasn't until the January deal that brought Al Harrington and Stephen Jackson to the Warriors that the vibe began to change.

"The trade really brought him back to life," said Jackson, who has been close friends with Davis since high school. "He felt like the season wasn't going anywhere and he was getting ready to give up. But the trade changed that."

Despite a knee injury that required February arthroscopic surgery and still causes him trouble, Davis led the late-season rush to Golden State's first playoff appearance in 13 years. Then he destroyed Dallas with a series for the ages.

"He won't let us lose," Foyle added. "You can see it in his eyes. There is such a fire there. He's silently asking all of us, Are you going to come with me because I'm plowing a path. But you have to follow."

Well-wishers had Davis surrounded late Thursday night. Everyone wanted to congratulate him. His e-mail box also was filling up.

When asked who was contacting him, Davis responded: "I know everybody."

He's not kidding. Actress Gabrielle Union visited with him after a game this season. Jessica Alba was courtside last weekend. (Her boyfriend is Cash Warren, now the president of Verso Entertainment.)

Each time Davis is asked if he feels vindicated, he deflects the question by saying he's just happy for the organization, his teammates, Nelson and Warriors fans who have waited so long for something to celebrate.

"I've been counted out all my life, so for me, it doesn't bother me at all," Davis said of criticism. "I take the good with the bad, the highs with the lows."

Those around him, though, are ecstatic that Baron is getting this moment.

"His growth and maturity is something that I've been longing for and waiting for," said Silas, whose son Stephen is a Warriors assistant. "He has traveled through a lot of bad times, injuries, turmoil. To see it finally become a reality is just out of this world."

But Todd Ramasar, Davis' agent and a former UCLA teammate, doesn't view this as redemption for his friend. "It's just that everybody is seeing the real Baron now," Ramasar said. "This is the guy those of us close to him have always known was there. Now people nationally are getting to see it."

And he does agree that the Davis-engineered Warriors revival would have possibilities for a good script. But who gets cast as Davis in the film?

"That's a good question," Ramasar said. "I do know that it would have to be quite a character."

There's time to figure that out. This Hollywood ending isn't complete yet.

Contact Mark Emmons at