I have lost one major prospect before each season. One year, a guy decided not to enroll shortly before classes started because Campus Police informed him that, as a registered sex offender, he had to have his photo posted in a prominent area of campus. Another year, a player tore his achilles tendon a week into preseason training. There are a few other examples, and the reasons vary, but five years into this I fully understand that there is no such thing as an absolute when it comes to working with these guys.
Smoove had game. He could flat-out score. Unlike every other guard I had encountered at the time, Smoove possessed a mid-range shot and he could drive the ball against a variety of defenders. He also seemed to be far more mature than the average guy I had grown accustomed to dealing with here. I loved the thought of adding him to the roster as an older, skilled player. The only problem was the amount of layers I had to deal with in order to get him back into school.
Smoove was 22 when I met him. He was a few years removed from his first failed attempt at doing the college thing. Prior to my tenure here, Smoove played for the team, but quit before the season had started. To his credit, Smoove stayed in school. However, he failed most of his classes. He re-enrolled for a second semester, but made the mistake of dropping out halfway through the semester without officially withdrawing from his classes. That left him with a $1600 bill and a row of "Fs" on his transcript.
After doing some heavy lobbying for Smoove, I was able to broker a deal with Academic Advising to lift his academic suspension. They agreed to place him on academic probation instead which would allow him to enroll in classes and get financial aid again. All Smoove needed to do was pay the $1600 so the Business Office could lift the "hold" that was placed on his account. He was excited about the possibility of starting over.
A month before school started, Smoove disappeared. I was alarmed. Up until that point, he was showing up to meetings on time and checking in regularly. Since he had a good gig working as a Relief Counselor at a Group Home, I assumed Smoove was on a different path. He was even saving up to pay off the $1600 balance. After two weeks of calling and texting, I gave up on Smoove until one day he showed up at my office unexpectedly.
Me: Where have you been? I've been trying to reach you for two weeks.
Smoove: My fault, Coach. I don't got my phone no more.
Me: Where is it?
Smoove: It got took at the park while I was playin' in this tournament.
Me: Oh okay. I thought you had bailed on me. You still good to go?
Smoove: Nah man. Some stuff happened. I don't know. Stuff just went down.
Me: What happened?
Smoove: So, I was pumpin gas in my car, right? While I was pumpin the gas I peeped Po-po scoping me out.
Me: Why would they just be watching you? You do something? You have a record?
Smoove: I been arrested before, but they was followin me before I got the gas. I think it's because my windows is real dark.
Me: Okay?
Smoove: I got in my car and started driving then Po-po started following me again and then they pulled me over. And honestly, coach, I figured they was just gonna bust my balls for the window, you know? When I rolled down the window the cop started askin me questions and stuff then he said he smelled trees and to get out the car.
Me: Were you smoking in the car?
Smoove: Yeh but that was like a hour before. So I stepped out the car. I knew he wasn't gonna find nothin but a blunt in there. All of a sudden, he pulls out a bunch of dime bags from under the carseat that was in the back.
Me: I thought you told me you don't mess with that stuff.
Smoove: I don't, though. No lie. I gave my niggas a ride to this game we was playin in and I think one of em left the stuff in my car.
Me: You know whose it was?
Smoove: Yeh, but I ain't dimin' my nigga out.
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