PS3

I was placed on academic probation. During my junior year, I developed a fascination for John Madden football that resulted in a semester GPA of a 2.1. That was the lowest mark for me in any of my eight college semesters. My fixation with the game honestly felt like a drug habit at times.

My moment of clarity occurred one morning as I tried to follow a couple of classmates debating McGeorge Bundy's war strategy during the Vietnam War. In a matter of seconds, I went from taking notes to reading some quarterback's eyes as a linebacker dropping into coverage. It was pretty embarrassing when I woke up suddenly in class with my hands in mid-air as I was going for the interception...

On Christmas Eve in 1988 my parents bought my older brother and I a Nintendo. It was a complete surprise. Within weeks, I was hooked on Super Mario Brothers and The Legend of Zelda. When my brother borrowed Mike Tyson's Punch Out from a friend, it really turned my world upside down. I got so stuck on beating Soda Popinski that my homework didn't matter to me as much anymore. My father took note of my shift in focus and imposed strict rules on when I could indulge in my Ninento craze. I couldn't play after school, or vacation days, until I finished my school work, and the random homework assignments he'd devise for me. As early as the third grade, I had to write response essays to newspaper editorials...

Loco and his mother were very tight. She came to every game and called me regularly to check on his progress.  Loco's mother was one of two African American parents I've dealt with in four years who have attended every single game to support her son.  (Both happened to be women.) Whenever Loco would get out of line, I'd pick up the phone and he'd get the business from her. It was nice to have her in my corner. After a home game one evening, I walked by and caught an exchange between them. Other than my mother I'd never seen a woman make a 19 year old feel so small. Given how tough his mother was, it surprised me that Loco faired so poorly. He failed off the team with an abysmal .67 GPA that season.

Me: I like you a lot, man. I just don't get how you could fail off the team after all we did to keep you eligible.
Loco: Sorry. I tried. I really did. I just lose focus.
Me: So what now?
Loco: I don't know. Guess I gotta get my eligibility back. I wanna take classes here next semester.
Me: I'm not gonna give up on you. You have a good heart. Your mother cares a lot about your success. Do you realize how proud your mom would be to see you get a degree?
Loco: I know. I wanna make my mom proud. Shs's real good to me.
Me: Do your best. That's all you can do, and I know that .67 wasn't your best.
Loco: I know. It wasn't at all. Next semester I'll do better, Coach. I'ma try harder.

For Christmas that year, his mother bought him a PS3.

Dress Code

My late father was a dictator. He ruled my world, and mine alone, with his cowboy belt and stern glare. One example of his authoritative regime was how he made me use some of my work money from the summer to buy at least two khakis and three button up shirts. Even though I was only going into the ninth grade, he reasoned that I needed to have professional attire in my closet. I was furious, but couldn't say anything because I didn't want him to break out the cowboy belt. While most teenagers were busy rebelling, I was doing everything in my power to avoid my dad's wrath.

I had three different jobs in high school.

I wasn't allowed to get a flat top either. This was a really big deal in the early and mid 90s. My friends were getting all sorts of designs in their hair and growing tails. I wanted to do it too, but my dad said it didn't look professional and that I wasn't allowed to look like a "bum." If it weren't for my older brother's persistence, I probably wouldn't have gotten to put a part in my hair either.

Even in the last years of his life, I couldn't bring myself to defy my dad. I got twists in my hair when I went off to college. When I came home to visit, from his wheelchair he simply asked, "when are those coming out?" It took twenty minutes for me wash the new look out. Who knows what he would have said, or done, had he known there was a diamond stud in my pocket and a hole in my ear...

I got my first job out of college before I actually graduated.

Lebraun is one of two players on the team I offered a reprieve to regarding our dress code (shirt and tie for away games) because he didn't have enough money to buy the proper attire. Financially, Lebraun has been struggling since I met him. Days after finding out his mother sold the Christmas present he gave her for crack, the triple decker he lives in with his aunt and uncle was repossessed by the bank. Apparently, the owner wasn't paying off the mortgage. This has all driven him to look for a job so he could be less of a burden on his aunt and uncle. I followed up with him recently to see how the job search has been going.

Me: What's going on? Anything going on the job front?
Lebraun: Nah. Nothin'. Nobody's calling me back.
Me: What are you gonna do then?
Lebraun: Well I'm applying for food stamps. I used to get em, like $200 a month, but they stopped comin' once I got a job. I ain't workin now so I applied again.
Me: Hold up. You don't have kids or anything. How do you get food stamps? And why are you getting food stamps? There isn't enough food for you in the crib?
Lebraun: When I go to the welfare office all I gotta do is tell em that I'm bouncin around from place to place. You gotta bullshit, you know.
Me: Why food stamps, though?
Lebraun: My uncle be havin friends over. He's a real generous type-a dude. His friends get there early in the mornin' and just drink and chill all day. After we eat, they get what's left.
Me: And there isn't enough left for you, right?
Lebraun: Exactly. I gotta get my own, man. They eat like everything in the fridge.

Interestingly, he has at least seven different, crisp looking, fitted baseball caps to match his outfits.

Patos Locos

My mom has this deep seated belief that counseling is bogus. She thinks we're all equipped to deal with our own shit, if you will. It's just a matter of tapping into that inner-power to fight through those dark days. Along those lines, she doesn't believe in addiction either. I witnessed her quit smoking in one day without a patch after lighting up for fifteen years. Despite my best efforts to convince her that addiction exists and counseling is helpful, she maintains that everything in life is a question of mind over matter. Based on her resilience it's difficult to argue with her...

Since 1984 my mom has experienced quite a bit beginning with the passing of my younger sister, who was my "Irish twin." We were born eleven months apart. A year removed from that, she was involved in a car accident that resulted in the death of a very good friend. Her father died seven years later unexpectedly in Haiti. Ten years after that, her mother passed away after a long bout of dealing with diabetes. The Grim Reaper then came for my father two years later. I almost forgot to mention that she lost a very good friend to cancer right around the time her father passed on. Although life has sought to drive my mother crazy, without medication or counseling, she has yet to crack.

"Loco" is a Bubblee I worked with here. He was a very athletic forward from a single parent home. Loco also had some learning disabilities. One time I asked him to read a paragraph in my office and it took him ten minutes to do it. Beyond this learning disability he was also very angry. After a dispute with a teammate, for instance, he kicked in his car door. In high school, he followed a visiting team's bus for forty minutes because one of the guys was talking smack during the game. Loco's anger issues stemmed mostly from his father not being around, and other kids making fun of him during his childhood about everything from his mother being obese to not having much.

Flash had a lot of bad news for me when we reconnected. In addition to quitting the basketball team, he also dropped out of school in favor of a job at Rent-a-Center. He also had yet to see his other son who lives fifteen minutes away. The other piece of bad news he shared with me had to do with Loco.

Me: Have you seen or spoken to anybody from last year's team?
Flash: Yeh. I was with Loco like two weeks ago. He the only one I still mess with like that from the team. That was my dude. You know that.
Me: How's he doing? He doesn't return my calls.
Flash: Coach, man. This dude is on some stuff, yo!
Me: Stuff like what?
Flash: So I went to go check him out around his way and as we talkin about stuff, he started buggin out the blue.
Me: How so?
Flash: Everything was cool, right. We was kickin it, then he was like, you wanna fight me, huh? I thought he was playin, but he kept at it.
Me: What? Fight? Did you say or do anything? 
Flash: Nah. Not at all. I was like, yo, you need to chill out. You sound kinda serious. He was like, nah, I'm just playing. So anyway, later on while i was driving he told me to stop the car, so I stopped.
Me: And??
Flash: He got out the car and told me to step out so we could fight! Nothing happened for him to be actin' like that. We wasn't drinkin or nothin, Coach!

911

The police took twenty minutes to respond. It was sometime around 3 a.m. when I heard somebody fidgeting with the door knob. I woke up instantly. My girlfriend was terrified. Immediately I exclaimed, "who's there", as if my uninvited guest was going to respond. The next thing I did was grab the closest object I could find as self defense while calling the police. The dispatcher informed me that the cops would arrive shortly. Twenty minutes later, an officer responded and told me he would've come sooner but response time is based on the seriousness of a situation. I found this to be strange since I lived in a shady neighborhood.

My distrust for police officers goes way back. In the early 1980s my parents were harrassed by a police officer. While driving my mother to work, a police officer randomly stopped my father. Within seconds, as my mother recalls, the policeman became aggressive with my father and started pointing his finger in his face. My father, being the mild mannered man that he was, opted not to respond angrily. It was my mother who escalated matters by telling the officer what to do with his finger. Needless to say, they were both arrested. In court, the officer claimed that my parents threatened his physical well being so he responded aggressively...

Years later, my primary contact with police officers is on my college campus. Otherwise, I avoid them at all costs. Other than our Campus Police officers, I interact a great deal with the Criminal Justice professors who happen to be current and former police officers. Last year I started to enroll my tougher players in Criminal Justice courses figuring that they might relate to the subject matter. This was a brilliant move on my part because none of them have failed a Criminal Justice course yet.

Thuglife loves his Criminal Justice courses. Out of four Criminal Justice courses, he has earned a B- or better in every single one. In his college level English courses, however, he has yet to earn a grade higher than an F. I viewed this as odd since Criminal Justice courses require essays and writing prompts as well.

Thuglife: I got a B- in my Criminal Justice class, Coach! I can play again.
Me: Really? Weren't you just telling me last week that the professor hadn't emailed you any of the work yet?
Thuglife: Yeh.
Me: So you took a five week course and haven't completed any of the work, yet you have a B-?
Thuglife: Check online. I just talked to the professor. Check my grade online.

Low and behold, he was right. Without having turned in, or received, one assignment he earned a "B-" for the course. Last semester he earned an "A" with the same professor, and a "B" the previous year in another course.

Cash Flow

I'm not great with money. On my way to work every morning it's an absolute necessity that I stop at Honey Dew Donuts for a medium/hot/cinnamon coffee and it has to be regular. It costs $1.83. On the surface this doesn't seem like a major expense but each month that adds up to roughly $40 for coffee. In a year, I will have spent over $400 on coffee. Knowing this, I still go to Honey Dew faithfully. After all, when I was growing up my mother used to get through her eight hour days at the Nursing Home with a medium, light coffee from Dunkin Donuts coffee every single morning.

Even though $400 is a bit ridiculous to spend on coffee, my Honey Dew habit hasn't compromised my ability to pay bills or anything. I make payments towards my student loans and credit card every month. I'm even able to get wrecked at the bar once a month if the spirit moves me. Basically, Honey Dew hasn't put me in the poor house like one of my past Celtic favorites, Antoine Walker.

His financial troubles are well documented at this point. Walker made over $100 million during his NBA career and recently had to file bankruptcy because the lifestyle he was leading got to be too much. While listening to his interview on ESPN not too long ago, I was struck by a subtle aspect of his interview. He said that many of his friends and relatives are to blame for his depleted bank account. Basically, all of them asked to borrow varying sums of money from him and when he needed it back those people were no where to be found.

Bubblees treat money like it's hot. Couple that with their propensity for wanting nice things and it makes for a very combustible mix. Tomorrow is never planned for in the Bubble, so if the new Jordans are on sale for $179 today it means the phone bill won't get paid because it's due in two weeks. MetroPCS preys on this mentaility...

Recently, Thuglife's phone was disconnected. It's the third time this year his phone has been shut off, which means he'll be going on his fourth phone number soon.

Me: Didn't financial aid just give you a refund check last month? How's your phone disconnected?
Thuglife: What you mean?
Me: You got a $2400 check from financial aid. You paid $600 for rent. You repaid your aunt and uncle $1200, which left you with over $500. Where's all that money? Didn't you think to pay your phone bill?
Thuglife: How? I gotta eat.
Me: I realize that. What's your point? You had $500 last month.
Thuglife: So what you sayin?
Me: You're not even paying for utilities since none of you ever put the bills under your name. Seriously. What did you do with the money?
Thuglife: My mom don't give me her EBT card no more since her boyfriend is kinda fat so I had to buy groceries.

DOB/ODB

My parents began what turned out to be a 32 year relationship in a laundromat. Had either of them decided to wait until the next day to wash clothes, there's a strong likelihood that a relationship would have never formed between them. I always look at my birth as a mere formality, like everybody else's conception. If certain things hadn't happened that random day 32 years ago, or even 100 years before, this blog probably wouldn't exist. Our actions (or inaction) are that significant in this life.

Bubblees are a product of dysfunction over generations. Sadly, all it takes is one person to start the cycle of high school drop-out, drug addict, career criminal, etc. The way we parent is learned. Some people are able to break away from the past cycle and do differently, but that isn't the norm. As I've written many times, Bubblees often come from broken homes. Unfortunately, that one broken home can lead to several bad relationships and broken homes in the life of a Bubblee later. (Ex. Antonio Cromartie has 8 children by 9 women and can't name most of his kids.)

Flash is the proud father of a baby boy he loves dearly. He'd do anything for his son. This is quite admirable given that his father wasn't a consistent presence in his life. Flash, however, loves women. As a result, he hasn't been the most faithful boyfriend. His first year he contracted an STD from another woman. He followed that up by getting an ex-girlfriend pregnant.

I asked him about his other son when we reconnected. I had hoped he figured out a way to have a presence in the life of both children.

Flash: Things are going real good with me and my girl. We been through a lot, but things is better now. Much better. I think I'm gonna marry her.
Me: I'm happy to hear that. Really?
Flash: Yeh. She do anything for me. I'm really seein her as my wife, coach.
Me: How'd y'all work that situation out with your other kid?
Flash: She still ain't with that whole thing.
Me: So what does that mean?
Flash: I haven't seen him.
Me: You haven't seen your son at all?
Flash: Nah man. That would break my girl's heart if I got involved with him and his mom like that.
Me: You gotta find a way to work that out, man. That's another boy growing up without a dad.
Flash: You know what the funny thing is?
Me: What's that?
Flash: Based on pictures I seen, he look just like me...

Rent-A-Center

I believe this truth to be self evident--that all men are not created equally. Thomas Jefferson was correct in writing that all men are "endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness, but the first part of his Declaration was (and still is) patently false. All men should be treated equally, but this belief that we're all endowed with the same intangibles to succeed in life is bogus.

As a society we really get caught up in this notion of equality, and as a result people are not treated accordingly. For instance, some people are born with a certain amount of resilience and others aren't. That lone quality in my estimation is the difference between Mookie and Jay-Z. The reason nobody knows Mookie is because he stopped trying to sell his hot album after a bunch of people turned him down the first time. Jay-Z, on the other hand, probably kept trying until somebody noticed.

For all of his phenomenal personality traits, Flash is not terribly resilient. You can say that his resilience is why he made it as far as college based on his past, but his flame flickers; it doesn't rage. Last season after he got owned by a taller, longer defender he privately told me that he was better off going to a smaller Division III school instead of pursuing his dream to play at a higher level. Some might say that reality set in, but I would have liked to see him push even harder to make sure that he could dominate a longer defender the next time around.

Knowing that he quit his college team, I decided to call him so we could talk about his decision.

Me: Hello.
Flash: Yo man! Coach! What's good?? I missed you, man!
Me: Yeh? You missed me so much that you didn't return your away uniform or clean your apartment even though I told you the landlord was on my case.
Flash: My fault, man. It wasn't personal. I just ain't have a ride out there.
Me: That's your excuse?
Flash: I messed up. My fault. My fault! What's good, man? How are you?!?
Me: Things are good with me. We're 5-9 right now, but what's up with you? I see that you quit the team.
Flash: Yeh man. I couldn't mess wit that Coach. He ain't a winner. I felt trapped in his system. It wasn't worth my time.
Me: Three games, though?
Flash: Yeh. I figured my son needs better health insurance and we got bills to pay so I went and got a job.
Me: Oh yeh. Where at?
Flash: Rent-A-Center. I got benefits there and everything. They give me good hours. It's cool.
Me: Hold up, though. I bet you dropped out of school altogether.
Flash: Yeh. I ain't have time for both.
Me: I know you well enough to know that you probably didn't officially withdraw either which means you probably owe the school money and can't go back there now.
Flash: haha. I guess you do know me well!

The Best Things in Life

The cliche that the "best things in life are free" is false. Sure, love would qualify as being one of the best things in life and it's certainly free, but there are better things than love that have a price tag. Food is a perfect example. It would be difficult to wake up knowing that nobody loves me, but a nice steak and cheese sandwich could ease the pain just a little while providing me with enough sustenance to get to the next day. Love is great, but without food it would be real tough to function after a few days. I can point to many other essentials that supercede love in the context of "the best things in life." The aforementioned adage just doesn't hold true in my opinion.

Bubblees often lack the best things in life, even the "things" that are free--like love. It's why they venture off into the Bubble. Many Bubblees have to search for love. More often than not, there is no mommy AND daddy. For instance, less than ten players I've worked with in four years have a relationship with their biological father. There is nothing traditional about the upbringing of a Bubblee. The average person is accustomed to having a parent. Bubblees, on the other hand, usually have a "guardian"--like a grandmother, aunt, or cousin.

Lebraun's father lives in the Deep South, and his mother (sadly) is a roaming crackhead. While his father provides some level of emotional support, he's hundreds of miles away. Lebraun has struggled to develop a relationship with his mother because of her drug habit. In terms of the best things in life--like parents--he's clearly not doing well in that department. Fortunately for Lebraun, his aunt and uncle have provided him with food and shelter (this would qualify as one of the best things in life that isn't free) despite the fact that he's unemployed.

A day after finding out that his mother sold the chain he gave her for Christmas to buy crack, Lebraun texted to let me know he couldn't make practice.

Lebraun: ay coach i won't be at practice today
Me: why not? is everything okay
Lebraun: nah not really
Me: what's going on?
Lebraun: we about to lose the crib.
Me: what?
Lebraun: you know how i live with my aunt and uncle?
Me: yeh
Lebraun: well the bank is takin the crib from the landlord so we gotta move.
Me: where are y'all gonna go?
Lebraun: I have no clue.

I'm pretty sure Lebraun would disagree entirely with the notion that the best things in life are free.

Man in the Mirror

The man in the mirror is a very dangerous enemy. He happens to be very elusive and non-descript. As a result, many who come into his path die a very slow (yet painful) death because they are unable to identify their greatest adversary in a timely manner.

Successful people have a favorable ratio of good to bad decision making. For example, the average person might make five good decisions prior to making a bad decision. Bubblees, on the other hand, operate in reverse. For instance, if a Bubblee enrolls in college (good decision) he will soon find a way to (1) get expelled and (2) banned from college altogether while simultaneously having his (3) license revoked which will cause him to (4) lose his job and (5) ultimately his home. Their adult lives are marked by this woefully uneven balance of good versus poor decision making.

Flash is a perfect example of this. I've written extensively so far about his poor judgment. His latest move was probably the icing on his cake. Three years ago, Flash decided to leave his hood to pursue a college degree here, which is an hour away from home for him. This was a great move. Many of Flash's negative influences were in his neighborhood, and even in his own home, so it made sense for him to get away. Although he made bad decisions out here, Flash still managed to do well enough to be recruited by a four-year college.

A month into the school year I decided to call his Coach to see how things were going. The call was prompted when I didn't see his name in the box score of his previous game. 

Me: How are things going with Flash?
Coach: I wish I could say things were good.
Me: What's going on?
Coach: He was doing fine up until the season started. He was coming to practice. He was doing fine in class. The guys liked him. He was working hard.
Me: okay?
Coach: So anyway, I decided to bring him off the bench to back up our point guard who has been here for two years already.
Me: Lemme guess. Flash didn't like that?
Coach: Not at all. He didn't play well. I didn't see the same guy who was dominating during the summer. After our last game, he stopped coming.
Me: What? Really?
Coach: Yeh. Nobody has heard from him since.

Three games into the season, Flash quit the team because he wasn't getting enough playing time. His Coach hasn't seen him around campus since he left the team.