Judgment Day

There's a thin line between tranquility and drama. On a random boring weekend night you can choose to either chill in the comfort of your living room, or venture out and have some idiot broadside your car at an intersection. The neighborhood bar, where everybody knows your name, could someday be the site of your violent death as a result of you stepping on some psycho's foot at the wrong time. Life can change very quickly for any given person on any given day.

One evening after practice, K-Solo told me he might not make it to our game the next day because of a court date.  Since the liquor store heist occurred years before I had met him, I thought he was done with that particular case. We actually never spoke much about that adventure. As a matter of fact, he doesn't even know that I googled him after I had met him for the first time. He thinks I'm in the dark about that.

I decided not to say anything because he didn't offer any reason for me to question his character since that initial encounter. As a result of showing up on time for every single preseason meeting, I decided to hook him up with a job. I also got a very good vibe from him which doesn't occur often here. Only three other players in my coaching career (6 years) can say that I actively helped them find employment. In the case of K-Solo, I saw a young man who seemed to really want something more for himself. Through his first month of classes, his lowest grade was a C. He also had two "A's". 

My Assistant and I decided to meet with K-Solo after practice that day to discuss this court appointment he had coming up. To K-Solo's credit, he was very honest about his legal trouble.

Me: What do you mean you might do 2 years in jail?
K-Solo: Yeh.. If they find me guilty tomorrow, I'm going down.
Me: Damn. Really. What happened?
K-Solo: Well, it's a long story but basically I was at a park one night and some dudes started chirpin to my homegirl who was wit me?
Me: What do you mean?
K-Solo: I don't know exactly what happened but we were all drunk and some white boys..these skaters... called my homegirl the n-word.
Me: Oh..
K-Solo: Yeh. So I heard this and stepped to these dudes acting like I didn't hear what he had said. As he started to get loud and shit I just cracked him in the jaw.
Me; With a weapon?
K-Solo: Nah. I punched him. I broke his jaw.
Me:Yikes. Really?
K-Solo: Yeh. The bigger problem is that I was on probation for some other stuff that had gone down a few years ago so now, who knows??
Me: Can I write a letter for you stating that you're a model citizen on the team and that you have good grades?
K-Solo: Maybe it'll help. I just gotta go to court tomorrow and see if I get lugged for two.

Friday

Boredom is at the root of teenage deliquent behavior. On Friday nights in high school, my friends and I used to order pizzas to the homes of other classmates for a good laugh. It helped us deal with being teenagers in a town where the most interesting thing to do after 9 p.m., other than being at the movies, was to either do drugs, drink excessively, or go to sleep and hope for a great wet dream. 

Years later, through all the boring Friday nights, I have a clean criminal record. Only one of my friends has been arrested on a Friday night, and it was for Disorderly Conduct. I can't say the same about the guys I've coached. Friday is a bad day in "the Bubble."

One boring Friday night, K-Solo devised a plan with his friends. The execution of this daring heist would mean lots of laughs and liquor afterwards. This plan was several notches above calling in a pizza order to somebody else's home, or getting drunk with some friends. K-Solo and friends went for the gusto.

I randomly ran into K-Solo by the Financial Aid Office late one summer. At first glance, he looked like a basketball player (Yes. I stereotyped in this case). Aside from seeming tall sitting down, he happened to be wearing basketball shorts and sneakers. K-Solo asked if I was the basketball coach after I dropped a few hints to others around him about being el jefe of our Men's Basketball program. We then went to my office to talk about my program.

Me: Where are you from?
K-Solo: I'm from CT, sir.
Me: What position do you play?
K-Solo: I play all positions.
Me: (Bubble bait) Based on your own abilities, at what level do you see yourself playing?
K-Solo: (Bubble confirmation) I think I'm D1, honestly.
Me: (half smile) I guess I'll have to work you out to determine that.
K-Solo: I'm fine with that. When's good for you?
Me: How about tomorrow afternoon? What are you majoring in?
K-Solo: Tomorrow works for me. I'm not working. Human Services, sir. I'd like to help people.
Me: (thinking not a customary response at this level) I'll see you at 2 p.m. tomorrow. Don't be late.
K-Solo: I'm never late, sir. I'm very responsible.

After he left my office, I googled him and found out that he (along with some friends) attempted to rob a vacant liquor store and was caught escaping with quite a bit of brew in the back of his pick-up truck.

Sonny Delight

Sonny whipped Carlo's ass. I've seen hundreds of movies over the years. Like everybody else, I have a list of personal favorites--the Godfather being one of them. One of the all-time classic scenes from the Godfather trilogy was when Santino "Sonny" Corleone rolled up on Carlo (his sister's husband) hanging out with his boys and kicked his ass up and down a street for beating on his sister (Carlo's wife). Infused in our DNA as men is a gene that triggers violent behavior for assaulting a sister or mother. Like Homey D. Clown, we don't play that!

Lebraun was fresh off of a month long suspension for failing to pull himself together academically. At the time of his suspension, Lebraun was failing the easiest class offered at the college and a Basic Reading course. He's 21 years old...

With his basketball career hanging in the balance, Lebraun managed to pull his grades up within a month from D, C, F, F to B, B, B+, C. I honestly didn't expect that sort of turnaround after he was suspended. Most Bubblees give up when faced with adversity. Lebraun, on the other hand, debunked this stereotype and earned his spot back on the team. I was happy to reward his renaissance.

One of the unfortunate aspects of being in "the Bubble" is the Hollywood-type drama that seems to always find them. Knowing this, it wasn't surprising that Lebraun had a serious dilemma to deal with upon returning to the team. He called me before his 10 a.m. course for some advice on how to proceed with the drama that was suddenly unfolding around him.

Lebraun: I need some advice, Coach.
Me: (thinking, what else is new): what's going on?
Lebraun: iight so this basketball thing is real important to me so I don't wanna do nothin dumb
Me: what would make you do something dumb?
Lebraun: so my sister been seein this dude and he chased her down the street last night, and said he'd kill her.
Me: Ohh
Lebraun: Yeh. so he been messin with her for awhile and I'm not havin it no more.
Me: So this isn't the first time he's gotten out of line?
Lebraun: Nah. She actually put a restraining order on him but she keep on goin back to him.
Me: What are you thinkin of doing now?
Lebraun: I'm ready to fuck this nigga up but I know he sells drugs and stuff which means he has guns. If he has somethin on him that means I gotta be ready too.

Prince of Thieves

Drug dealing is easy money in the hood. Some people make a decent living off of selling nickel and dime bags of weed on the block. In some areas, the "little guy" is well aware that the DEA (Drug Enforcement Agency) and local police force isn't looking to put him away. He knows that he's low on the food chain. The "big boss" is who they're after. The lone drawback to being a small-time street peddler is that it's nearly impossible to get rich that way. As a result, some of these guys often attempt much bigger heists in an attempt to cash in on a bigger payday.

On the same day that a detective called me about a player (re: Doedoe) being sought for questioning related to an unmasked, unarmed robbery in broad daylight, Peanut decided to spill his guts about some dirt from his past. I had brought the team together to address the police investigation, and he seemed pensive throughout. It was an old fashioned pep talk about life. I lectured about all of them being in a position to walk a brighter path. I used examples of past players who went from living a life of hopelessness to one filled with new and exciting opportunities. Peanut was the most attentive guy in the room. His eyes revealed a young man who wanted to escape a troubled past.

Peanut came to my office afterwards to talk. He needed to get something out badly. As the biggest guy on our team (6'3, 230 lbs) he suddenly seemed like a teddy bear. I felt his emotion before he even spoke.

Peanut: Tell me. What do you really, like, think a me?
Me: I think you're a good guy. You have some learning disabilities that you're embarassed about, but that's nothing new to me.
Peanut: (stuttering)You tttthink I'm a bad guy?
Me: I think you've done some dirt, but you're not a bad person from what I've seen.
Peanut: (stuttering) So, I dddon't sssseem like a bad guy?
Me: Nah man. You're Peanut, the guy who forgets to tie his shoes sometimes before stepping on the court.
Peanut: I dddon't think you'd believe me if I tttold you something.
Me: What's up?
Peanut: I'm a awful person. You dddon't know me. Nnnobody does. Eeeeven my parents don't know me.
Me: what makes you so bad?
Peanut: See. It's hard ffffor me to sssay this because I feel sssso bad about it.
Me: did you kill somebody?
Peanut (silence): Nah. I mean, I don't tttthink so. I don't sssstick around to find out.
Me: What? I don't understand.
Peanut: I try to ggget jobs. Nobody wanna hire me. I don't wanna work in no fffactory and make nnnothing like my dad so I do things for money.
Me: Like what?
Peanut: I, like, sssold drugs. I bbbroke into, like, homes to rob people wit money and stuff.
Me: Seriously. Have you ever killed anybody?
Peanut: If you're driving by and shooting, you don't stop to see if you've hit somebody. You just kkkeep going.


 

Say Cheese!

One mistake can ruin your life. This is a notion that most folks have difficulty comprehending. We are all fallible as human beings, but some errors are far worse than others. This is even true in sports. There's a big difference between fouling the opposition with fifteen minutes left in the game, and committing a foul late in a close contest that sends your opponent to the free throw line.

Bubblees, like everybody else, make mistakes. Their errors, however, are continuously of the really stupid variety. Splash's story is a perfect example of this.

He earned his nickname, Splash, because of his outside shot. Whatever shot Splash put in the air seemed to find the bottom of the net. He wasn't terribly athletic, but the boy could shoot! I loved that aspect of his game. The part I didn't like was the unnecessary show of confidence every time he made a shot. It was really annoying, actually. He was easily one of the cockiest kids I'd met here.

Splash came with a checkered past. Many guys I've worked with have been arrested, but none have gone to prison. Splash was the first guy I'd met who actually spent time in jail. Shortly before the school year started he informed me that enrolling in school wasn't going to happen. I thought he was just bailing out because of the upcoming conditioning run given his poor showing in summer workouts. Unfortunately, he had a much bigger issue on his hands.

Splash: Yo, I can't do this basketball thing here. Matter of fact, I can't even do the school thing.
Me: Why not?
Splash: Some stuff.
Me: Financial aid?
Splash: Kinda, but not really. I mean, I'm having issues gettin papers from my pops to do that but that's small.
Me: What's the problem? I can't help if you don't say anything.
Splash: You can't help me with this one. I know for sure you can't help.
Me: Try me.
Splash: Remember I told you I was locked up for a couple??
Me: Yeh.
Splash: Aiight man. I can't be in school cuz I'm registered as a sex offender and campus police wants to put my picture up on campus and I'm not havin' that!

Hoop Dreams

(Start from the bottom. That's the first email.)


From: Campus Police
To: Me
Sent: Wed 10/6/2010
Subject: Re: Basketball Player


Hi Coach 

He did state he played for the team and when I gave him the written warning I told him I would e-mail you and said ok not a problem.

Thanks,

 

From: Me
To: Campus Police
Sent: Wed 10/6/2010 9:58 PM
Subject: Re: Basketball Player

Hi Officer,

Thank you for the email. Did Mikey say he was on the team? He has never played for us, nor have I ever heard of this guy.

---

From: Campus Police

To: Me
Sent: Wed Oct 06 19:44:12 2010
Subject: Basketball Player

Hi Coach,

I hope all is well. I just wanted to let you know I had an encounter with Mr. Mikey Miller last night. I stopped him for speeding on campus and had him on radar at 33 MPH in bad weather. He was respectful and co operative when I spoke with him so he received a written warning. I just wanted to give you a heads up and keep you informed just incase if you as a coach want to do any "team" discipline. Any questions just let me know. 

Thanks,

---

Nightshift

Tomorrow is never promised. Many of us take that for granted, especially people in "the Bubble." Silky isn't a guy I would identify as a Bubblee given the way he lead his life. His attempt to maximize each day showed evidence of a man who believed sincerely that his time on earth was borrowed. He was a human energizer bunny. With the exception of his time spent sleeping, Silky was either working a part-time job or doing homework.

I became a witness to Silky's tireless work ethic a few years ago when he came to basketbally tryouts. That year, I literally made drills up along the way to get guys to quit. Thirty people showed up. Silky was one of four guys left standing.  The impressive part about his show of physical endurance was how he kept in shape during the off-season despite a very busy work schedule. When I asked Silky what he did during the summer to prepare for my vaunted conditioning run (11 fullcourt sprints in a minute) he replied simply, "I jog three miles to work everyday."

With time I learned there was a lot going on with Silky. I noticed on every form he completed for us, he'd leave off his social security number. When I asked Silky about that, he confessed about his undocumented status here. He explained how driving back and forth to campus was stressful because he didn't have a Driver's License. Despite this hardship, and the fact that he worked forty minutes from school, Silky managed to pull off 3 As, an A-, and a B+ in six classes.  Eventually, he stopped playing ball because getting a car to drive was so difficult for him.

The last time I saw Silky which was this summer, we had a great conversation. He was off to a four-year college after completing his Associate's Degree here.

Silky: I'm going to major in Criminal Justice. It would be nice to join the Coast Guard someday.
Me: Really? The Coast Guard?
Silky: Yeh. Once I get my papers straight I'm going to enlist. The adventure sounds cool to me.
Me: Lemme guess. You're one of these guys who loves rollercoasters and stuff.
Silky: How'd you know?!?!
Me: Just a wild guess.
Silky: lol.. Rollercoasters are nothing! That's kid's stuff. Someday I'd love to jump out of a plane!
Me: You couldnt pay me enough to do that! You're nuts!
Silky: haha.. Yeh. I guess you could call me a thrill seeker.

Three months after that conversation, Silky was killed in a single car accident when he lost control of his car on the highway.

Keep Ya Head Up

Misguided anger is the reason why some men exhibit deviant behavior. It would seem to make sense that men who were raised by single mothers would cherish and honor the sex that cared for them through life, but that's not often the case. They don't reciprocate the loyalty they were shown by the women who raised them. As an outsider who hasn't fully experienced the lives of these Bubblees, I often wonder if the women who "stuck it through" didn't somehow trigger their resentment towards women at some point.

Here are three examples that come to mind:

Flash - His mother was a heroin addict. He has cheated on his girlfriend repeatedly. Flash's father chose his wife over him at a young age.

Armslong - His mother was in and out of jail, and struggled with alcoholism. His grandmother raised him. He has no relationship with his father.

Thuglife - His mother has struggled with an addiction to crack. His father passed away when he was four.

Despite everything, all three of these guys are very close to their mothers. Thuglife, for example, goes home often to visit his mother. He speaks very fondly of her too. He's also a lady's man. This past year, Thuglife was in a relationship that ended abruptly. His girlfriend came to every game and even helped him with many of his homework assignments. As an outsider, all seemed well with their relationship until Thuglife gave me the skinny on their situation.

Thuglife: You know I don't date homegirl no more, right?
Me: Really? What happened? She seemed like such a nice girl. Good girls don't come around too often, man! Gotta hold on to those.
Thuglife: Coach, this chick was crazy! I'm good wit all the drama!
Me: What do you mean drama?
Thuglife: Tell me why this chick came to my crib in the rain and laid in the middle of the street talkin some nonsense about killin herself over me!
Me: What?!?! You're playing, right?
Thuglife: Nah. This chick crazy!!!
Me: You had to do something to trigger that behavior. Girls don't just do that.
Thuglife: She found out through facebook that I was messin wit some chick at another school!

I found out much later through a very reliable source that she happened to be carrying his child and ultimately had an abortion.

Mom is the Word

Young men are plagued by issues of identity. The following is a breakdown of my starting five on Opening Night from each of the past four years.  

Year 1
SuperFly: No
TooShort: No
CoolGuy: Yes
Vanilla: No
Duncan: No

Year 2
Tish: Yes (deceased @ 15)
Flash: No
Boxer: No
Bud: Yes (alcoholic)
Irishman: No

Year 3
Flash: No
Thuglife: No (deceased @ 4)
Suavemente: No (lives in FL)
Loco: No (lives in NY)
Crazy: Yes

Year 4
Fearless: No (lives in SC)
Thuglife: No
Oxford: Yes
Norwich: No
Nigga: Yes

The yes/no indication refers to whether or not those individuals had a relationship with their biological father.

Sweet Sixteen

Age ain't nothin' but a number. I've met a fair share of 19 year old men who are less mature than my 15 year old nephew. Watching how some of these characters rationalize their actions, and act strictly on impulse, has been really disturbing. These days when I watch the news and hear about a brazen robbery, shooting, or kidnapping I'm not as surprised as most people because I've seen the mentality at play.

Armslong, in many ways, typified this deficient mindset. He wasn't a bad person per se. Although I wouldn't put my money on it, I don't ever see him robbing a bank. For the most part, he'd do the right thing. He was also very respectful. Armslong's ability to see beyond what was right in front of him is what concerned me most about him. If I handed Armslong a slice of pizza and asked what he saw, he'd probably tell me it was just pizza as opposed to seeing dough, tomato sauce, and cheese.

I once asked him why he thought I was trying to learn the game of golf and he was really confused. I tried giving him every possible clue so he could see that my interest in golf was based on my desire to network with wealthier people, and he just didn't get it. I didn't realize how broken his mentality was until his boy, Thuglife, dimed him out on some sketchy behavior.

Thuglife: Ayo, coach. You got some nasty dudes on this team.
Me: What do you mean by that?
Thuglife: Some dudes just got no standards for who they mess wit. They'll just bang on anything!
Me: Why are you bringing this up right now? Weren't we just talking about you having no money.
Thuglife: Oh nah.. I'm just sayin. He nasty!
Me: (realizing he was ready to spill his guts about something good) So, why's he nasty?
Thuglife: Armslong.. he just don't care who he mess with. He be bringin some ugly lookin chicks to the crib and he don't be wearin' rubbers. I don't understand that dude.
Me: Yikes. Really? He get burned?
Thuglife: I wouldn't be surprised. And you know what? Between me n you?
Me: What?
Thuglife: He be messin wit high school girls. This 16 yr old been sweatin him hard and he tryin to deny beatin it. We know he got with her cuz she be comin by the crib a lot! 

Interestingly, when I was visiting a local high school a young woman, who somehow knew I was the Men's basketball coach at my college, asked me to say "hi" to Armslong.  

Parkin' Lot Pimpin'

Male student-athletes don't respect women. That's what I've experience here as a Coach. Every season I talk to my players about how they relate to women. The most common example I use of a good time gone wrong is what happened to the Duke Lacrosse players. One bad decision, I tell them, can lead to a lifetime of agony.

A few situations have arisen over the years that I've had to address. One night after a home game I saw a random car outside the Athletic Center shaking violently. The windows happened to be foggy as well. I thought nothing of it until some guys I was about to drive home began to chuckle. As we sat down in the car, they were straight up dying.

Me: What the hell is so funny?
Goofy: (laughing hysterically)
Duncan: You don't realize whose car that is? You blind, Coach?!?!
Goofy: yo! He's getting it in right now!!
Me: Y'all are acting like big kids right now! If you want a ride home, you better tell me what's up!
Duncan: (laughing) Don't be mad at us, coach! We in here with you tryin to get home.
Goofy: (gasping for breath) Yo. He gets no burn so he's getting a workout in now!

I flashed my lights on the car and the movement stopped. Suddenly a couple of shadows emerged behind the fogged windows and I saw two people pulling themselves together. Vinny, a bench warmer, was having a rendez-vous in his car outside the Athletic Center with a young woman the guys tended to gravitate towards. I'd heard rumors the week before about some student "sucking off" three of my guys in a car and made nothing of it.

It took a couple of weeks, but I finally realized who the guys were referring to as "Bucket."