…
And I was supposed to convince them to chase something that didn't even exist yet.
What followed was an endless stretch of calls and rejections.
"Sir, if this is about flying Zion overseas, you can forget it. He's fourteen. He barely knows how to do his own laundry. Duke already sniffed around, can you believe that? Duke. He's not leaving Carolina."
Williamson – cross out. Mom is furious. Duke interest. Untouchable.
"Listen, I've played pro ball. I know what's real and what's a distraction. RJ's got Team Canada camps, and Kentucky's people just spoke with me last week. He's not leaving home for some mystery project. He's got a roadmap. And I'm the one drawing it."
Barret – cross out. Already have a planned out journey.
"Cam's tall and skinny now, but he's about to grow another inch, I swear. Villanova's already sniffing around, and Duke's Coach K's assistant sent a letter. Look, we're flattered, but you don't pluck a boy out of his roots during growth spurts. He stays put."
Reddish – cross out. Dad's not moving.
"Bol's body is fragile, sir. He's seven foot at fourteen, you understand? Doctors say we have to be careful. And Kansas already checked in – Bill Self himself came by the gym. That's not something you ignore. He needs structure, not experiments."
Bol – cross out. Health concerns.
I stretched myself and took a couple of deep breaths to untangle the nerves. Don't remember the last time I was so nervous. Looking at a pile of sheets full of 4 and 5 star ranked players throughout the US and Canada. None of them had shown even a modicum of interest, even when Coach K's name was thrown into the discussion.
"How you doin' bro?" pulled in Marcus with a desperate and tired face mirroring mine.
"No luck man. What about you?"
"Got trashed by Michael Porter Sr and Rayford Young. They are also inside the basketball industry, used to play in college and overseas. Have NBA connections. The only way in which they would agree is if they get full control over the program. That shit ain't happening. Our Reichsmarschall will never allow that."
"Yeah, that's dumb. No sane high tier recruit will join our programme, if we are being honest. It's new and no name, plus Japan and Asia overall is not famous for its competition. If only it was Australia and New Zealand, it would have been a different discussion. I think that 3rd year kid, Simmons is from Australia, isn't he?"
"Yeah, he is. Kinda shows that they have their basketball thing going. By the way, what do you think about the Ball boys? Will we have any luck with them?"
"Which one do you have in mind?"
"I think the oldest one is already college bound. Maybe the second one, Gelo?"
"Hmm, might work, let me try."
Once I had found the necessary number I had noticed the glances which Marcus was throwing my way. I didn't like that in the tiniest, but I had already dialed up the number. A second later I had heard a loud male voice that said:
"This is the house of greatness. Who's this?"
"Good evening, Mr. Ball. My name's Daniel. I'm calling on behalf of Onitsuka Athletic High. We're building a brand-new program bringing in the top high school talent, international exposure, pro-level training and led by coach Erik Kuhlmann. We'd like to talk about recruiting your son, LiAngelo."
"Recruiting Gelo? Bwahaha! Man, listen, one of your customer support guys had called me today already. I had told him to ball the hell off. Plus, my boys don't need no extra pit stop. You got Lonzo, Gelo, Melo – that's the triple-threat, the Holy Trinity of basketball! You ever seen a family like mine? No. And you won't ever again."
"I understand, sir, but this isn't just a regular school. We've got NBA-style coaching, high-tech facilities, sponsorships, travel–"
"NBA-style coaching? What that mean? Y'all got Phil Jackson hiding in the janitor's closet? Got Pat Riley serving orange slices? Hah! Only NBA-style coaching my boys need is me yelling from the bleachers! Lonzo don't need coaching, he is the coach on the floor. Gelo don't need coaching, he's dropping 30 whether you like it or not. Melo? Melo ain't even in high school yet and already embarrassing grown men. Boy, please. Lonzo gonna be the face of the Lakers! UCLA already know what's up – that's where my boys belong. Right here in Cali, where the lights shine brightest. UCLA, then Lakers, then Hall of Fame, that's the pipeline. Why would I send Gelo off to some Onit… Onisuka? Wherever that is, sound like a sushi place to me!"
"We're offering a full scholarship package, housing, training, media exposure–"
"Scholarship? Whaaaaahahah! Brother, we don't need no scholarship! You think UCLA ain't already got the red carpet rolled out? They begging for my boys. You seen Lonzo play? He got Magic's vision, Jason Kidd's pace, and he's taller. Gelo? He dropping buckets, built like a linebacker. Melo? Melo gonna be better than both of 'em – mark my words. The Lakers gonna be the Ball show in a few years, and I don't need no 'international exposure' to make that happen. The world already know my boys!"
"Still, sir, what we're building could be a unique stepping stone before UCLA, before the NBA. Imagine Gelo leading a team, standing out–"
"Leading a team? He already leading Chino Hills! My boys don't need stepping stones. They are the stone, the mountain, the monument. You talking about some sushi place? Never heard of it. But you heard of Big Baller Brand, right? That's worldwide. We ain't chasing little schools, little programs. Y'all should be chasing us just for the headlines! Put Gelo's name on your roster and maybe you sell some tickets – but guess what? He ain't going nowhere. He's staying right here, on the golden path to UCLA and then straight into the Staples Center. Lakers, baby!"
"…So I should take it as a no, then?"
"A no? Brother, it's not just a no. It's a Big Baller NO. What we got is destiny. And you know what destiny spells? B-A-L-L. You tell Coach whoever that the Ball family ain't signing no papers unless it's with UCLA or the Lakers. Anything else? Stay. In. Yo. Lane!"
"Understood, Mr. Ball. Thank you for your time."
"You lucky I even picked up! You folks are calling me the second time today, so tell ya boss to remove our Holly name from his little notebook! Usually I charge for wisdom like this. Write it down, son: never bet against the Ball family. Big Ballers don't follow the world – the world follows us! BBB, baby! Tell your little school to buy some Big Baller sneakers if you wanna be relevant. Hooold up – Zo! Pass me the remote!"
The call stopped and I looked at Marcus who was already rolling on the floor dying from laughter. This imbecile! He already called him, and just wanted to get some cheap laughs on my ass!