A true pioneer in women’s basketball, no one has had more of an impact on the women’s game than Sheryl Swoopes. Her accolades are undeniable. A dominating force throughout her entire career, Swoopes would go on to become the first woman signed to the WNBA, a three-time WNBA MVP, an Olympic gold medalist, and an NCAA and WNBA Champion.
“When I look back on my playing career and I
look at where I am today, I just remember saying, ‘Is this really happening? Is
this real? Is this true?’ And as much as I was excited about it, there was a
part of me that said, ‘This is going to be a challenge because now there is a
lot of pressure.’”
These accomplishments for Swoopes,
which helped elevate her status among the league’s best, didn’t come without
“I take a lot of pride in who I am
and what the WNBA represents. To be a part of the league back in 1997 and to be
the first player to sign was a lot of pressure for me. But it was pressure that
I welcomed because I looked at it as an opportunity to go out and really market
the league and try to show people that women can really play this game.”
Since the age
of seven, Swoopes’ love of basketball was overly apparent. A rising recruit out
of Brownfield High School, Swoopes initially decided to attend in-state
behemoth, The University of Texas. But apprehension quickly set in and Swoopes
made the decision to leave the school and enroll at South Plains Community
College to be closer to home. She went on to become a two-time All-American and
All-Region selection at South Plains. After two successful seasons, Swoopes
transferred to Texas Tech, where she went on to win an NCAA Championship in
1993. She is one of only three Lady Raiders to have her jersey retired by the
team. Still to this day, Swoopes holds many school and national records,
including the single game and single season scoring records. A culmination of
her tremendous season at Texas Tech, Swoopes went on to be named the 1993
Naismith College Player of the Year.
After college, Swoopes turned to USA
Basketball in 1994 before joining the WNBA in 1997. During the WNBA’s inaugural
season, Swoopes was recruited to play for the Houston Comets. Swoopes was the
first woman to be signed to a WNBA contract and right out of the gate, made her
impact known. During her tenure with the team, Swoopes accumulated over 2,000
points, 500 rebounds, 300 assists and more than 200 steals. Her play made her
the first three-time WNBA MVP and the first three-time WNBA Defensive Player of
“When I first started playing
basketball at the age of seven, I set goals for myself and said, ‘Yes, I want
to play in the Olympics. Yes, I want to meet Michael Jordan.’ And all of those
things happened. And when I started playing in the WNBA, honestly I never went
into the league saying I want to be MVP this many years. I want to win four
championships. All I said was I wanted to be successful and, at the time, I
didn’t really know what that looked like or what that meant.”
joined the WNBA back in 1997, the league’s growth has been undeniable. This
past season, the WNBA saw a 36-percent increase in viewership in adults age
18-49, a 29-percent jump in men in that age group and a 50 percent increase in
women. But more than the growth of the viewership has been the growth of the
women who play the game. What has excited Swoopes the most is seeing the
current generation of players use this growing platform to influence the greater
“It’s so incredible to see how far
the league has come. I know there is still a lot of work to do, but to see the
talent level and how much these women are embracing the challenge of continuing
to compete and putting the women’s game on the map. It says a lot about who
they are and what they represent. I love the fact that you have younger players
today that are in the league that are stepping up, not just on the court, but
they are using their voices for a lot of very positive things.”
As she sits here today and reflects
on what has been a truly historic career, Swoopes is left with no regrets. She
put everything she had into the game she loved and is left with nothing but
pride and a sense of relief when discussing her accomplishments.
“I can honestly sit here today and
say I accomplished everything I ever thought I could accomplish and then some.
I never in my wildest dreams imagined that I would have so much success on the
court with basketball and that basketball would allow me to go to so many
different places and meet so many incredible people and really change my life.
That’s exactly what the game did for me.”
by John Fawaz
It’s the question asked by every
professional athlete. At some point, everybody hangs ‘em up. Only then do they
begin to consider the next chapter of their lives.
Jamal Mashburn had that all worked
out well before he retired from the NBA in 2006. You can learn a lot riding the
“I got a chance to see the train
transition from blue collar, working class to white collar, business suits,”
Mashburn says, remembering his days riding from his Harlem home to a Catholic
school in Manhattan. “I had aspirations to find out what was in the briefcases
and do that.
“Riding that train, I had to figure
out how to carry that briefcase.”
Mission accomplished, although in
this era the briefcase has been replaced by a smartphone. Mashburn, who turned
46 in November, has amassed a business empire that includes restaurants, auto
dealerships, a marketing agency, real estate development, juice franchises and
tech investments, just to name a few. He is living the life he envisioned as a
youngster, well before his NBA dreams.
“I looked at basketball as a way to
meet a lot of people and get an education so I can carry that briefcase,”
Mashburn says. “Those train rides gave me a lot of inspiration.”
Basketball and business were
“parallel dreams” and every step of his journey had to further both ambitions.
Never stop learning on the court, in the classroom and, most of all, in
everyday life. Never stop aspiring.
“If you’re the best player on your
team, you need to find a new team,” Mashburn says. “I’m a true believer in that
you grow from others’ experiences as well. Always in basketball and always in
business, I’ve transitioned well because I am a constant learner.”
The subway introduced Mashburn to a
different environment, but back home in Harlem he was like any other kid,
playing sports with his friends. This being New York, playground basketball
ruled. But Mashburn was a pudgy youngster and not the most skilled player. The
only way to change that was to practice. For that he needed a ball, and the
neighborhood had just one. Seriously.
“I never owned a basketball. When I
was growing up in the projects in Harlem, it was more like a community
basketball,” Mashburn says. “He who left last had to secure the basketball.
Lights out at ten, I would always be the kid out there playing by myself.
“That’s how I honed my skills, how
to bargain. I don’t think I ever gave up the basketball. I was the guy who was
out there first and the one who stayed latest. I had to figure out a mechanism
to keep that tool.”
By his teen years, Mashburn showed
promise, though his weight remained an issue. Big for his age, he regularly
played against older kids. He realized that this sport was also a business (“I
had value because I could play the game”) and he asked a lot of questions. He
wanted to absorb as much information as possible. Nothing has changed.
His high school
years were centered on basketball. Even then, with AAU and summer camps, there
wasn’t much of an offseason. But his education continued, both in a traditional
and nontraditional sense. Though his parents separated when he was 11,
Mashburn’s father lived nearby and they saw each other almost every day, while
his mother, Helen, exposed him to a different side of New York with trips to
museums, restaurants and other cultural activities. As he said, she gave him
what he needed, not necessarily what he wanted.
Maybe the biggest lessons came when
she took him to collect rents as part of her bookkeeping job. They discussed
her work (“my mother taught me debits and credits”) and his future. She wanted
Jamal to be able to tell her anything, even things she didn’t want to hear.
Don’t count on a career in the NBA, she cautioned. Get your college degree. Be
ready to do something else. She needn’t have worried.
“My mother always said, ‘Have
something to fall back on,” Mashburn says. “I pushed back. ‘I don’t want to
fall back on something. I want to fall forward.’”
More importantly, he had no
illusions about the dreams of sports glory. His father, Bobby, had been a
boxer. His decade in the ring included a fight at Madison Square Garden and
bouts against Larry Holmes and Ken Norton, two future heavyweight champions.
“I saw my father, and the other side
of being a professional athlete and not having any fame or riches,” Mashburn
says. “He never got a chance to live out his dream. I wanted to take a
By his senior season of high school,
Mashburn had dropped the pounds and became one of the city’s top players, a
small forward who could knock down outside shots. College coaches, assuming
that he would be leaving early for the NBA, mostly talked basketball during
their recruiting pitches. Mashburn’s priorities were different. He wanted a
college that was the right fit. Yes, he might leave early if it made economic
sense, but he wanted a school that would help him achieve his ultimate goals.
As he says, it was all part of “investing internally by making the right
decisions and developing a business plan” for life, a process he began at age
“I had to figure out what college I
wanted to go to,” Mashburn says. “Did it match up with what I wanted to
“A lot of coaches who were
recruiting me didn’t take me seriously.”
One coach who did take Mashburn
seriously was Rick Pitino, who coached at Providence before taking over the
Knicks in 1987. The two had developed a rapport during summer hoops camps in
New York. Before Mashburn’s senior year of high school, Pitino left the Knicks
to take over at Kentucky, which was quite a distance — literally and
figuratively — from Harlem. The Wildcats were on probation, so if Mashburn
followed Pitino, he wouldn’t be able to play in the NCAA Tournament his first
year. A program in the Atlantic Coast Conference or Big East seemed the most
likely landing spot. But coach and player clicked, and Mashburn signed with
“He always allowed me to use my IQ,
either on the court or off it,” says Mashburn. “He had an open-door policy that
I used, more than others, to go in and express concepts and ideas. And he
promised he would tell me when it was time to leave [for the NBA].”
Mashburn compiled a solid freshman
season (1990-91) at Kentucky and then emerged as one of the top players in the
nation in his sophomore year. He led the Wildcats to the Final Four, and nearly
to the 1992 NCAA Championship Game by scoring 28 points in an NCAA Semifinal
Game. But, in one of the greatest college games ever, Duke dashed Kentucky’s
hopes when Christian Laettner hit a game winner at the buzzer in overtime.
After that loss, Mashburn was
invited to California as part of a group of college all-stars assembled to play
against the original Dream Team. When he returned from the scrimmages, Pitino
called him into his office and told him it was time.
“He said, ‘This is going to be your
last year here,’” Mashburn recalls.
As a junior, Mashburn was the
Southeastern Conference Player of the Year, and he led the Wildcats to the NCAA
Final Four before another overtime loss ended their title hopes. Mashburn, who
had already announced his intention to turn pro, returned to the coach’s office
at season’s end.
“Remember how you want to carry the
briefcase?” Pitino asked. “You’re going to sit down and hire an agent and hire
a business manager.”
So began the interview process.
First, Mashburn chose an agent after speaking with several candidates. Then it
was time to select a business manager, but that proved more difficult. They
offered him investment ideas and portfolio management. In other words, a life
of leisure after his playing days ended.
“What happens with athletes
sometimes is that people don’t think you have a vision beyond playing,”
Mashburn says, recalling the process. “Only one [Rick Avare] listened to my
vision of carrying the briefcase.
“I told him, ‘I want to step into a
live, active business after I play in the NBA. I need you to teach me
everything in finance and accounting that you know.’ Eventually he morphed into
my business partner.”
Mashburn entered the 1993 NBA Draft
as one of the top prospects. In those days, players who stood 6-8 and could
shoot threes were rare. Dallas selected him fourth overall, after Chris Webber,
Shawn Bradley and Penny Hardaway.
averaged 19.2 points per game in 1993-94 to lead all first-year players and he
finished third (behind Webber and Hardaway) in the balloting for the NBA Rookie
of the Year Award. The next season, Jason Kidd joined the Mavericks, combining
with Mashburn and Jim Jackson to form the “Three Js.” Dallas, which had won just
24 games combined in the previous two seasons, improved to 36-46 in 1994-95.
Mashburn averaged 24.1 points per game to rank fifth in the NBA. The Mavericks
future looked bright.
At the same time, Mashburn and Avare
began planning for life “once the ball stopped bouncing,” as Mashburn puts it.
He connected with Chris Sullivan, one of the founders of Outback Steakhouse,
and used some of his shoe contract money to purchase a franchise. He would go
on to acquire 38 Outback Steakhouses before selling his interest in 2018.
describes that initial investment as the catalyst for the ventures that
followed. During the next 20 years, he bought and sold fast food franchises and
a printing plant, started and sold a venture capital firm, and invested in real
estate and tech companies. Mashburn currently owns 90 Papa John’s franchises,
three locations of a fitness company and five auto dealerships (he says he has
learned the most from those businesses). He joined Jonathan Sackett to open the
Mashburn Sackett advertising agency, and he is beginning to develop hotels.
While his financial endeavors
flourished, he experienced ups and downs on the court. A knee injury limited
Mashburn to 18 games in 1995-96 while the Three Js clashed. By 1997, all three
were out of Dallas, with Mashburn going to Miami in a midseason trade.
Mashburn would play three and a half
seasons (1997-2000) with the Heat and four with the Hornets (2000-02 in
Charlotte and 2002-04 in New Orleans). He averaged 21.6 points per game in
2002-03 to earn All-NBA Third Team honors. But his knee, worn down by
repetitive injuries, limited him to 19 games in 2003-04 and finally forced his
retirement in 2006.
“It eventually stops. What do you do
now?” says Mashburn, who averaged 19.1 points per game in 11 NBA seasons. “What
did you learn from the experience that you can use in the new life? What don’t
you need that you can get rid of?”
Mashburn applied his basketball
lessons to his new life. Preparation, preparation, preparation. Don’t let the
ball dribble you, you dribble the ball. As you become better as a basketball
player, you become better at moving the ball.
“I’m very selective on things that I
do, and I am very methodical in my approach. Very parallel in how I played,”
Mashburn says. “To me, that was the secret sauce. Prepare and the game takes
care of itself. Got to have good people and teammates around you. I prefer
myself to be a teammate, to let other people flourish.
“I like to be around people who have
lived their dream and can also express it and teach it.”
Though Mashburn made a bid for the
New Orleans Hornets (now Pelicans) in 2012, owning an NBA franchise is likely
not in his future. The value of franchises has soared to the point that it
doesn’t make business sense (“the return is all in appreciation”). But he
remains connected to the NBA and the game. Players seek him out, and he is
happy to help.
“I do get approached quite a bit for
information,” Mashburn says. “They ask how I did what I did and how do I
continue to do it. It’s a lot of fun to share my stories.”
“When I was coming into the NBA, the
League and Players Association would bring in guys who made mistakes. They
would preach about ‘Don’t do this.’ I always wanted to hear the story about the
guys who made the successful transition.”
For the veteran players who are
pondering retirement, Mashburn reminds them that they have the tools. They just
need to be repurposed.
“There’s a lot of work to be done,
like the work they did to get to the NBA, but it’s more of a lifestyle change,”
Meanwhile, his son, Jamal Jr., is a
junior in high school and one of the top guards in the nation. Like his dad, he
is eyeing a parallel track — he wants to play in the NBA and be an attorney.
Soon he will have to pick a college. Those recruiters better do their homework.
The Mashburns have a lot of questions.
Next up, we welcome 1982 NCAA Champion & newly elected Board Member of the National Basketball Retired Players Association Sam Perkins to the All-Access Legends Podcast for an exclusive interview in Legends Magazine. In the interview, “Sleepy Sam” as he frequently goes by, touches on his days at North Carolina, playing alongside Jordan & Worthy, his greatest achievements and his greatest story to date, how he got his nickname. All that and more on the #AALegendsPodcast.
Q: What was it like to play on the 1982 National Championship team at North Carolina and play alongside some of the greats like [Michael] Jordan and [James] Worthy?
“I speak about this all the time because everybody asks me about that team,
everybody seems to think that, that was the greatest college team of mankind.
But just being there, playing for Dean Smith and the guys you mentioned, it was
an experience. We didn’t know it was an experience until after we left there,
but while we were there, we had a good time. We played together with the teams
that came after us. I think the best part about playing at Carolina and playing
at that time was teams just kept coming after us. We had a bullseye on our back
and we took that as a challenge all the time. Practices were always
competitive. It was just four years of growing up and Dean Smith was one of
those guys to keep us in check.”
Q: What was the greatest lesson that you learned in college?
A: “I think it’s all the lessons that
I learned from Coach Smith. Coach Smith was one of the most down to earth
coaches that was really concerned about his players. He recruited guys from
different backgrounds and different places to mesh. And one of the things I
took from that was just getting to know people that I’ve never experienced
before. As it went on, I talked to a lot of guys about religion, their beliefs,
why they believed in this and that. I think one of the things that coach taught
me was to do something different every day or try to get to know somebody that
you would never think about knowing. He had us doing reading, things of that
nature, and that’s how I got more knowledgeable about people. And that’s one of
the things I always liked about Dean Smith because he was so versatile in his
approaches that he made you think about things. And that kind of a quality is
what I take with me trying to get to know people, and always assessing things,
and putting yourself in other people’s shoes and things of that nature.”
Q: So you leave North Carolina aFter four years and went on to have a 17-year career in the NBA. Going back to when you made the transition from the college ranks to the NBA, what was the greatest learning curve or challenge?
“Well the biggest challenge was the practices because
you thought every coach was like Dean Smith. You got a wakeup call as soon as
that first day came to practice. I think basically from what I tried to do in
17 years is be consistent. That was a challenge for me, to be consistent
throughout my games. To try to do something that would be best for the team.
And as I look back, I wish I was more aggressive in the ways of playing but you
know we had guys on the team who could score, who was this and so on and so on
and you were just a role player. But at the same time, I was just trying to be
consistent and not worry about anything else. And that’s what I tried to do
from Dallas to LA, and all the way to Indiana.”
Q: Where was your favorite place to play and why?
“It’s a tossup. I would have to say, because I got acclimated in
Seattle, that I would say Seattle, because I was in the community doing a lot
more. I was in Los Angeles and I like that team too, but I wasn’t there long
enough to get acclimated. As soon as I got traded, I wanted to do a lot more
things there community service wise. But I think Seattle was the one because I
was there the longest. We had a group of guys that were different and I enjoyed
playing with. We had great chemistry.”
Q: How did you get your nickname?
“So I’ll try and make it short. I was with the Lakers, and Byron Scott was
always a clown. There’s always a clown on the team, so let’s say Gary Payton on
Seattle, it was Mark Jackson on the Indiana Pacers, or Dale Davis. On the
Lakers it was Byron Scott. He was naming everybody because Magic had a name, it
was of course Magic, James had Clever, Vlade wanted to be The Magician because
he wanted to pass like Magic. So here comes me, and I’m always, not lethargic,
but I’m always taking my time to get places from point A to point B. Whether
Point A or B is around the corner or down the street I’m the same speed. So I
was late for practice, I got there later than I wanted to at the Forum. And
you’re supposed to be in the circle at 9:45. If you’re not in the circle at
9:45, you get fined. So they saw me running by around 9:38 to the locker rooms,
I had to pass the court to get to the locker room. I got dressed and they were
betting that I was going to be late and fined. So I got dressed and it was
about from 9:38 to 9:43-9:44 and I didn’t run, I was walking to the circle. I
said I’m going to get there regardless, but when 9:45 came I was in that circle
so Byron Scott was like, “Here comes Sam, look at him, he’s all smooth,” and next
thing you know that took off like, “He’s walking smooth.” And they’re all
laughing at me because here I am at 9:44, any rookie, anybody else would be
breaking their neck to get to that circle, and I was just walking so casual
like I had nothing to worry about. That’s how the name started, and then when I
got to play for Seattle, Kevin Calabro put “Big” in front of it because I was
shooting 3’s, and that’s how the name came. That’s how it all started.”
by Sam Smith
Just because things are the way they
are doesn’t mean they were destined to be so.
Just because NBA players have the
richest guaranteed contracts in American team sports, unlike NFL players, or
have so much flexibility in their economic relationships, unlike NHL players,
doesn’t also mean it was inevitable. It occurred mostly because a valiant group
of determined men, the modern revolutionists of basketball as I refer to them
in my new book, Hard Labor, demanded economic equality and social liberty with
racial camaraderie during the most turbulent times in American society.
They were the 14 NBA players led by
NBA legend Oscar Robertson, along with individual pioneers like Spencer
Haywood, Gail Goodrich and Rick Barry and labor titans like Larry Fleisher, who
challenged the guardians of the game, the owners of NBA teams and the league
itself. These gutsy NBA guys went to court and Congress despite threats to
their livelihoods. They did so for their successors knowing none of them would
personally benefit from the risks they took to their own careers.
And there were consequences.
Robertson lost his job as a national TV commentator for NBA games. Chet Walker
felt forced into retirement after averaging 19.2 points his final season. Joe
Caldwell was kicked out of basketball under the guise that he had led astray,
of all people, Marvin Barnes. Not all suffered or were punished, for sure. But
how was it that Oscar Robertson, one of the best minds ever to play the game,
never got a coaching, advising or management chance with any team? Coincidence,
Consider those times in the 1960s:
NBA players had roommates and washed their own uniforms, local medical people,
often veterinarians, were hired to do the pregame taping. There were 20 or more
preseason games, two teams traveling together on buses barnstorming through
states, playing every night for weeks. And then starting the 80-game season.
Airplane travel was, of course, coach, and players would pile into a taxi to
get to the game from the hotel. No team bus like today. The team would
reimburse the players. Tommy Heinsohn recalls asking for, say, $3.50 and
Auerbach saying it cost him $3.25 from the same hotel, so that was all Heinsohn
was getting in reimbursement. Philadelphia owner Eddie Gottlieb used to hire a
bus to take players to East Coast games, like in New York. He’d sell tickets to
fans for the unused seats.
This was also the time of the great
migration of black players to the NBA cities, the stars of the game that raised
the sport with Elgin Baylor, Bill Russell, Wilt Chamberlain and Oscar Robertson.
In effect, the playing field was raised as the NBA became the vertical game the
public grew to love.
reverberated with the Vietnam War and Civil Rights overshadowing most
everything else. Professional athletes contending for their “rights” was hardly
a subject of much sympathy. So serious sports magazines published stories of
whether the game was being ruined by too many blacks. Anonymous quotes
proliferated similar to when Jackie Robinson started with the Brooklyn Dodgers.
These brave NBA players also would not back down.
once sat out a regular season game when he could not be served at a restaurant
with teammates. And this wasn’t the 1940s. This was into the 1960s. Lenny
Wilkens was starting for the St. Louis Hawks. His picture was featured with the
other starters in the window of a popular restaurant across from the arena.
Wilkens was not allowed to eat there with white people. The league would
arrange preseason for team hotels to allow blacks, but Celtics players related
how the hotel marked “c” in the register to denote “colored” and asked to split
roommates because whites and blacks shouldn’t share a room. Also, so the white
guests could know on which floors the black guests were staying. This was
“sophisticated” Los Angeles. Black players often would use a white teammate as
a beard just to get a taxi, the white guy standing outside to flag down the cab
and then the black guys rushing out to get in. Yeah, you think a taxi is
stopping for us? NBA players? Big deal.
There was a quota system then in
which white players replaced white players and blacks replaced blacks, and that
teams assigned black players to be rebounders and defenders so the team would
not have to pay them as much money. After all, those “role” players scored
less. It was the story of the St. Louis/Atlanta Hawks and how the appeal of
Pete Maravich to the white South may have short circuited a dynasty. Dunking
was at one time even banned in the NBA to level the playing field for white
What these players did in the Oscar
Robertson suit is mostly lost to the ages, recalled like Yalta, something
important, but everyone is a bit fuzzy on the details. But what the Robertson
suit did was, effectively, create the modern NBA, allowing for the combination
of the rival leagues with the ABA. Effectively marrying the conservative NBA
with the liberal ABA, boardroom ethos merging with street ball excellence,
inviting the rest of geographical America into the game with small cities from
throughout the country. It was surgery that introduced a special sort of
doctor, like Julius Erving. But not until NBA players themselves began an
evolution to legitimate free agency and the ancillary working benefits, which
translated into respect and an eventual partnership that has the NBA
flourishing today like no other American sports league. Owners then, of course,
screamed ruination of the sport if players could choose where they wanted to
Those players dragged the NBA into
court and Congress, where none other than Sam Ervin of Watergate fame was
astounded by the way the NBA had been doing business so inequitably. Those
players led by Robertson challenged the collusion between big business and
government that got the NFL a specious antitrust exemption in a back room deal
with Louisiana senators in exchange for an NFL franchise, the New Orleans
Saints. Long before Curt Flood was making his heroic stand at the cost of his
Major League Baseball career, these NBA progressives were demanding equality in
the marketplace of ideas as well as finance. Didn’t they deserve the same
rights as any working American?
Like the old
American Football League, the ABA came along mostly as a ploy to join the NBA.
The AFL owners pulled it off with that wink deal in the U.S. Senate. The NBA
owners were stanched by the Robertson group that grew from the first players’
association in sports headed by Bob Cousy and then handed off to Heinsohn and
then Robertson as the NBA players’ symbol of the equality being demanded in the
boardroom and playing field.
They first got the attention of the
owners in a unified boycott threat of the 1964 All-Star game, the first
scheduled to be nationally televised. The Lakers owner threatened to throw
Baylor and Jerry West out of the league. I was able to relate those stories
along with the shaky travel of the era when the NBA had its “Sully” moment of
the Lakers plane with Baylor on board crash landing in a snowstorm without a
scratch to anyone, along with the amazing story of the greatest sports
friendship of all time, Jack Twyman and Maurice Stokes, the latter a LeBron
James of his era struck down in his prime. The Celtics dynasty would not have
been quite so if not for Stokes’ illness.
This was a time when Wilt and Bill
Russell continued their rivalry in the summers, traveling around to parks and
playgrounds, literally picking sides for games. Earl Monroe almost jumped to
the ABA, but when he visited the Indiana Pacers the players all were armed with
pistols because they said there was so much KKK activity. Think the game is
fancy now. Robertson plaintiff Archie Clark was doing crossovers, and Don Kojis
the back door lob dunks in the 1960s. Russell had a famous chase down block in
the Finals in the late 1950s.
Equally forgotten or unrealized is
this creedal nature of sports, so dismissed with the anti-immigrant tenor of
these times. Plaintiff Tom Meschery was from China and was forced to live in a
Japanese internment camp during World War II. He might have been considered a
chain migration and under attack now. Bob Cousy’s mother brought him to the
U.S. when she was pregnant, and he spoke French much of his youth. He might
have been under siege as an anchor baby. Heinsohn came from a German family and
was mercilessly harassed as a “Nazi” during World War II. The father of
plaintiff Bill Bradley’s wife was a Luftwaffe pilot. She became a respected
author and university professor educating so many Americans. These immigrants,
coming in legally or because their worlds were under siege because that’s what
America stood for, became the people we learn from and cheer for.
My book, Hard Labor, wasn’t just
about a tug of war for money. It is the rich and detailed story of these
pioneer revolutionaries of the game and their amazingly rich era both leveling
the economic field they played on and enhancing the stage where we all came to
enjoy the greatest athletic performers in the world. My inspiration for the
book was the plight of so many of these players from that era, who stepped
forward for their peers and the game. None benefited personally from their
endeavors. They just believed in fairness and a voice. My hope is the players
of today, so wealthy beyond their ancestors imaginations, realize, accept and
understand just how they arrived at the place where they are. Those players did
step up in the last Collective Bargaining Agreement with extended medical care
for all veterans, a big time first step. But there is a greater debt to repay.
As the kids yell in the playground when the ball escapes to the other side, “A
by Sam Smith
Jerry Stackhouse didn’t have to coach in the NBA’s developmental G League. After all, he was Jerry Stackhouse! You know, the guy from the University of North Carolina who was once the next Michael Jordan, a two-time All-Star and scoring champion, a guy who once dropped 57 points on Jordan’s old team and whom Michael later traded for in his own effort to build his then Washington Wizards, a guy whose NBA salaries totaled more than $80 million. Heck, Stackhouse’s fellow coaches on the staff of the Toronto Raptors even told him he didn’t need that G League gig, the end of the private planes with the surf and turf dinners and the five-star hotels to discover not only hotels and restaurants he never knew existed, but cities as well.
But ask Stackhouse about some of his
favorite places and he’ll mention Portland, Maine. Who knew? Not him.
“The G League,” says Stackhouse,
“took me to some places and cities I really have enjoyed and otherwise never
would have seen. You’ve always got to open your mind and open your eyes.”
reason why Stackhouse became one of the top NBA coaching prospects, though less
for his illustrious playing career — which, of course, has played a part — but
at least as much for understanding about life after basketball and that you
better be prepared. Stackhouse was the guy even as a Raptors assistant coach
who spent afternoons sprinting outside. Yes, in Toronto. You know, stay a step
ahead, literally and figuratively.
Stackhouse’s life after basketball
happens to be basketball, but it wasn’t necessarily going to be that way.
Perhaps a career in media, or business, both of which Stackhouse pursued with
the same passion and desire he did as a player who scored more than 16,000
points over an 18-year NBA career. But what Jerry understood perhaps best in a
career that saw him as a shooting star and primary scorer and then reserve and
journeyman is that because there’s life other than basketball you have to
prepare, be versatile and be a team player, the qualities that produce success.
These are traits which will carry
you in the NBA and well beyond.
“A lot of times you get locked into,
‘I’m a basketball player and I am going to be a basketball player forever.’ But
it doesn’t work that way,” reminds Stackhouse. “The ball stops bouncing for
everybody, and as soon as we can focus on interests we have and find the same
passion you have for a game, the better you are. I was able to do that.”
“It can’t just be about money,”
Stackhouse adds. “You were in the one percent of competitors and talents in the
world and then you’re done. You’ll be surprised how quickly the phone stops
ringing. Everyone welcomes your call when you are playing. When you are not … I
felt I’d done well to say I could just skate around in my driveway or play
golf. But, man, what a boring life after being at the highest level of
competition. You need passions to push you.”
It’s why Stackhouse’s story, though
from the stands looks somewhat routine as a former player pursuing NBA
coaching, is more a model for players and guidebook for their future. It’s the
unusual alchemy of desire and planning that both makes for a better basketball
player and more complete life story.
Not all NBA players become
multimillionaires, and some who do don’t do a good job remaining one. But what
they all have in common is an elite talent driven by competition and ambition.
It shouldn’t be the end of the story at 35; perhaps only a beginning. After
all, there’s another entire life to live.
“Jerry sets a great example for so
many of us,” says Adrian Griffin, a teammate of Stackhouse’s on the 2006
Mavericks team that lost to Miami in the NBA Finals. “It’s such a difficult
transition when your career is over. It took me about five years before I
finally landed on my feet emotionally, mentally and psychologically, to accept
my playing days were over, and it was time to make that full commitment to
transition to life after basketball. When you’re young, you think it will last
forever. Having basketball on your resume is not good enough in the corporate
world. You have to start building your resume when you are a player, like Jerry
did, start thinking about life after and what skills you need to accomplish
that. They stop caring that you were a basketball player. They want to know
what you can do to help their team. You have this false reality as a player
that you played at the highest level. It means very little if you are not
willing to add those skills on top of your accomplishments. How can you bring
value to an organization? And you also need something to motivate you to get
out of bed. It’s a long life after basketball.”
It’s what Stackhouse somewhat
counterintuitively understood even when he was at the pinnacle of his NBA
It was about eight or nine years
into his career, and the 6’6” guard with the severe gaze and uncompromising
expression was on his way to the top. Stackhouse with the Detroit Pistons led
the NBA in total points at a fraction under 30 points-per-game. His
preternatural strength of mind and character combined with exemplary skills
quickly elevated him among the elite in the game. His Pistons were on the way
to a division title the next season, though Stackhouse was soon on the way to
join Jordan in Washington. Jordan wanted to get somewhere, and he wanted a
rugged veteran like Stackhouse to help him.
Stories of Stackhouse’s toughness
are legendary around the NBA. He didn’t suffer fools or phonies, sometimes
violent encounters with teammates or rivals like Christian Laettner, Kirk
Snyder, Allen Iverson and even Shaq dot Stackhouse’s resume. Stackhouse even
drew a suspension in the 2006 Finals — really questionable and probably aimed
more at owner Mark Cuban’s referee baiting — for hitting Shaq too hard. Who
really ever went after Shaq? Stack never backed down.
It was about standing your ground,
making your way and relentlessly looking for an edge, and Stackhouse understood
that about his basketball career as well.
He’d been a prep and collegiate
star, though not quite the next Jordan.
“I was flattered, but at the same
time I’m not even a guard, can barely handle the ball,” said Stackhouse about
the early Jordan comparisons. “I could run fast and jump high. But I played
power forward in college. I had to learn the game as pro. I became an off guard
in a couple of years. There were so many good guards. I had to work for that.
And then there were so many different dynamics. Iverson came in the next year
and they were more into his aura, so I was traded to Detroit. I couldn’t get
upset. We progressed to All-Star the same time.
“Then with MJ and with the breakup
(of Jordan leaving), being seen as the guy they chose over Jordan,” Stackhouse
adds with still a shake of his head. “An unbelievable dynamic and then onto
Dallas, stuff going on with Shaq, being a starter and accepting the sixth man
role. You have to keep redefining yourself.”
Stackhouse understood innately that
such flexibility was vital in continuing a productive life; you can’t always be
the star of the corporation. The trains keep moving.
Stackhouse left North Carolina after two years, he worked summers to get his
degree. He also understood, though he treasured his time at North Carolina and
his relationship with coach Dean Smith, that basketball scholarships and
education often were mutually exclusive activities.
“In college, you’re more player than
student,” he acknowledges.
He tried some
media training programs and real life experiences, the Retired Players
Association’s coaching program, even Harvard Business School classes.
“We miss a lot of things being
dedicated to playing,” Stackhouse notes. “I wanted to have a more formal
presentation to the business side. I felt like even with as much basketball I
knew, I was missing out on 15, 16 years of business protocol. We’re still
living in our own world in the NBA. It’s different than most business models,
how we collectively bargain, how we go about our business. I needed to
understand how Fortune 500 companies are run.”
Initially for Stackhouse, like a lot
of former players, he figured it would be a media job. Hey, just talk about
basketball. He could do that. He did that every day. But Stackhouse also
understood there was more to the world; just like there was more to playing.
So he began asking midway through his playing career to do guest appearances on TNT broadcasts.
“It was giving me reps in front of
the camera,” Stackhouse explained. “I became a regular on NBA-TV with guest
appearances. I wanted to stay close to the game, and I always liked to mentor
the younger guys even when I was a young guy myself. I’d see guys coming in and
gravitate to them. I didn’t have a lot of that mentoring when I was in
Philadelphia. It was a really young team and I missed out on that. So I wanted
to make sure I shared information. That carried on to the end of my career as I
got older and was on better teams. The coaches allowed me to be more an
extension of them and have that type of role.”
Griffin said during that 2006 Finals
Stackhouse even initiated a team curfew that wasn’t mandated by the team.
on accepting a journeyman life even with potential starring skills to the
Bucks, Heat, Hawks and back with Avery Johnson in Brooklyn in 2012-13. He knew
he wasn’t going to be asked to run the corporation. Even the top CEOs often
learn the mail room as well. With Brooklyn a devised last stop, Stackhouse
figured it was his training for coaching. He’d already started his own AAU team
with his son and felt he’d found his calling after the radio and TV work.
“I enjoyed going on radio and TV,
but it wasn’t something I wanted to do all the time,” Stackhouse said. “You
have to try things to find your passion. My real passion was basketball, being
on the court, teaching, coaching. It’s just who I have been.”
The NBA is like
life, things don’t always go as planned. Johnson was fired. But Stackhouse
still felt he was ready. “I thought I’d go right into coaching like J-Kidd
(Jason Kidd) and Fish (Derek Fisher). In hindsight, I have to say no way. It’s
why the G League has been so great for me.”
completes the circle not only for who Stackhouse is but the road he’d always
chosen. That success in life is about learning, knowledge, sacrifice and
preparation. That it was important to be flexible and supportive, to be tough,
demanding and confident while also supplying something to complete the whole.
It was the story of his nearly two decades in the NBA that now has him prepared
to be a teacher and a mentor and still fulfill his life’s passions and desires.
“Nowhere could I go and get the
chances for trial and error,” says Stackhouse. “I’m fortunate and blessed to
have been a part of the (Raptors) organization. I had aspirations to be a head
coach. I made no bones about that. ‘OK, you want to do it, here.’ It’s a blank
canvas. I’m able to prepare my schedule, do everything a head coach does as far
as managing a team, dealing with the medical staff, training staff, analytic
staff, front office. I’ve gotten so much better.
“From being a star player to the
last guy on the bench, I’ve been there,” says Stackhouse. “So I can tell what’s
going on with these guys. I’ve seen those mannerisms 1,000 times, a spoken
kinesiology. And then I can build those relationships and they understand you
care and then I can challenge them and speak with candor to help them get
better all for the betterment of the team. Everyone has a role to play, from
the player to the popcorn guy. He also has to feel if that popcorn is not
popped right, we might not win. I needed to build those management skills.”
Jerry Stackhouse, now 43, has taken
a circuitous route that’s proven to be a direct line to his future. Like all
the great guards, it’s not just about the shot. It’s about keeping your head
up, looking ahead and making the right play before it’s too late.
recently accepted an assistant coaching position in the NBA with the Memphis
Grizzlies. He joins coach Bickerstaff’s bench, which also includes Nick Van
Exel, Chad Forcier and five other assistants.
There were many new and familiar faces around Charlotte during the 2019 NBA All-Star Weekend. More than 150 former NBA and WNBA Legends met for the NBRPA’s yearly event, which celebrates the growth of the league and its players.
The NBRPA kicked-off the weekend on Thursday evening with a champagne reception at the host hotel. Upon arrival, the members mixed and mingled with each other and the NBRPA Board of Directors joined the reception following their meeting with NBA Commissioner, Adam Silver.
On Friday morning, the Legends Lounge opened to the masses and the buzz and excitement around Charlotte was evident. The NBRPA’s key partners were on full display, including Spalding, Tissot, Budweiser, Pepsi, Cheurlin Champagne, Wintrust, NuEnerchi and many others. The lounge also featured a live DJ and basketball court, which became the central hub for members and their families throughout the weekend.
The NBRPA team planned and executed its first annual Legends Media Day at NBA All-Star Weekend, which took place on Friday. The team hosted 10 national media outlets and coordinated more than 50 interviews for 25-plus former players. Following media day, the NBRPA held a Welcome Party at the Ivey's, which included a toast from Isiah Thomas and Spencer Haywood.
On Saturday morning, David Thompson and Paul Westphal were honored at the Legends Breakfast with Athletes In Action. Both legends were called upon for their exceptional integrity, service, professionalism and character both on and off the court.
Following the Legends Breakfast, the NBRPA hosted a full-court press: prep for success clinic for 30 youngsters, in conjunction with Jr. NBA. In addition, the NBRPA Chapters held several community events throughout the weekend, including the Shooting For Peace program which provides encouragement and guidance for students of lower socioeconomic status. The chapter presidents also visited five local high schools in Charlotte, speaking to over 1,000 students about the importance of education and life experiences.
The festivities carried over into Saturday night, where approximately 200 legends and guests came to "hit the links" at Topgolf Charlotte. The night was filled with great energy and excitement while the Slam Dunk, Three-Point and Skills competition were played at the Spectrum Center. From basketballs to birdies, this event was a highlight of the weekend.
Rounding out the weekend was the Legends Brunch on Sunday morning. Muggsy Bogues, Glen Rice, Alonzo Mourning and Dell Curry were all honored at the Brunch, which took place at the Charlotte Convention Center and aired later that afternoon on NBA-TV. Hornets Chairman and Charlotte native Michael Jordan made a special appearance at the event and gave special recognition to the 150-plus Legends in the room and the legacy and impact they continue to have on the game.
CHICAGO (Feb. 21, 2019) – The National Basketball Retired Players Association (NBRPA) has named 14-year NBA veteran, Caron Butler to its Board of Directors. Butler will serve a three-year term, effective immediately.
Butler, an NBA Champion (2011) and two-time NBA All-Star (2007, 2008), recorded a career spanning 14 seasons, including stints with the Miami Heat (2002-04), Los Angeles Lakers (2004-05), Washington Wizards (2005-10), Dallas Mavericks (2010-11), Los Angeles Clippers (2011-13), Milwaukee Bucks (2013-14), Oklahoma City Thunder (2014), Detroit Pistons (2014-15) and Sacramento Kings (2015-16). Since retiring from the league, Butler has made regular appearances on NBA-TV, ESPN and Fox Sports. In addition to television broadcasting, he has continued to grow his personal brand, Tuff Juice, through a series of podcast and content offerings.
“Caron is the epitome of a retired professional athlete,” said NBRPA President and CEO Scott Rochelle. “He has an incredible understanding of what it took to be a professional athlete and more importantly, what it takes to succeed in life after the game.”
Butler joins the existing NBRPA Board, which includes Chairman of the Board Spencer Haywood, Vice Chairman Dwight Davis, Treasurer Sam Perkins, Secretary Nancy Lieberman, and the following Directors, Grant Hill, Johnny Davis, David Naves, Eldridge Recasner, Jerome Williams.
“The opportunity to work alongside Spencer Haywood and so many others that I looked up to throughout my basketball career is incredibly exciting for me,” said Butler. “I’ve watched this organization grow immensely over the last few years, and I look forward to utilizing my own skillset to continue moving the organization forward in helping players transition to life after the game.”
As part of the NBA China Games, the NBRPA, along with current and former players, seized the opportunity to visit Shanghai and Shenzhen and see first-hand the growing influence the NBA and its players have on the global stage. Current stars and Legends, Jermaine O’Neal, Dikembe Mutombo, Julius Erving, Jim Jackson, Caron Butler, Sam Perkins and Michael Finley, joined forces for a week-long trip that combined the history, passion and culture of China into an unforgettable experience.
“It was a great experience,” Butler said. “Being amongst so many of the all-time greats and to be able to enjoy that camaraderie and share this experience with them was incredible.”
The reaction to the NBA’s arrival in China was spectacular. The energy, size of crowds and the pure joy and excitement from the thousands of fans that welcomed the NBA’s arrival to their city was something that had to be witnessed first-hand.
“I’ve traveled so much internationally on behalf of the NBA, so I see a lot of it,” said Butler. “It amazes you when you are there in it. No one can describe what it is like. You need to be there, in the moment, to truly get a sense of the magnitude.”
As part of the trip, the Legends took part in a series of fan and partner events. Fan Appreciation Day, which took place in Shanghai, gave fans the chance to interact with their favorite NBA stars and Legends in a game-like atmosphere. For Butler, who has been to China and overseas numerous times on behalf of the association, said that this experience was really special.
“I think it’s important to honor and pay respects to the legacy of the game and the people that paved the way,” Butler said. “From my experience this year in China, it’s pretty special to see the wealth of young talent that recognizes the history of this game.”
The growth of the NBA on a global scale can’t go unnoticed; the impact…undeniable. From an international perspective, the focus has shifted to youth and growth in key regions around the world. The game’s international appeal, combined with the NBA’s savviness and forward-thinking, have combined to create a fan base in China that is hungry for more basketball.
“Every time I go to China, I see the intensity and wealth of fans over there,” said Butler. “It continues to grow and there is no indication of declining. The production was amazing. It was impressive to see the display of production by the Association.”
For the Legends to continue to be a part of the game and events like this is special. But above all, the most rewarding part was seeing the reaction from fans and the joy that they can bring to people. Nothing was more special than that.
“To see the faces of those young people, the fun that they were having, it reemphasizes why we do what we do,” said Jackson. “To be a part of that and to still feel like we are making an impact is an incredible feeling and something I want to continue doing.”
The NBRPA is proud to announce the opening of the 2018 Dave DeBusschere Scholarship application process. Developed to provide opportunities for higher learning, this program awards college scholarships to NBRPA members, their spouses and offspring (natural, step, legally adopted or grandchild) to help meet the rising costs of higher education.
To date, the NBRPA has donated more than $1 million in scholarship money to former players and their children. Please review the scholarship timeline and highlighted eligibility requirements listed below.
Earl Lloyd Scholarship: In honor of the recently departed NBA pioneer, Earl Lloyd, the NBA Players Legacy Fund (Fund) has pledged an annual, restricted gift to the NBRPA for the purpose of providing significant financial support to low income recipients of the Dave DeBusschere Scholarship. The Lloyd Scholarship will be available to the children and grandchildren of NBRPA members who have played Three (3) full years in the NBA and therefore, eligible to receive assistance from the Fund.
Please print and review the attached application for a complete list of eligibility requirements, criteria and information on how to complete the application process outlined.
May 11, 2018: Scholarship Applications Distributed to Membership
June 4, 2018: Applications Due
June 18, 2018: Applicant Denial Notification
June 25, 2018: Earl Lloyd Determinations
July 9, 2018: Scholarship Recipients Announced
In order to qualify as an Eligible Candidate (“Eligible Candidate”), one must be a current NBRPA member, the offspring (natural, step, legally adopted or grandchild) or the spouse of a current NBRPA member. In addition, the offspring or spouse of a deceased NBRPA member who was in good standing at the time of his or her death will be deemed an Eligible Candidate for Five (5) years after the member’s death.
In addition an eligible candidate must be either (1) a high school senior who will graduate in the spring and enter a college, university or certain vocational or technical school within the U.S. that is accredited by a nationally recognized accrediting association or agency, (2) any high school graduate who has been accepted to an educational institution, or (3) a student currently enrolled full time in such an educational institution who is returning to school the following fall.
Applicants must have a cumulative GPA of a 2.75 or better to qualify for an award.
No family member of the NBRPA’s staff will qualify as an Eligible Candidate.