First Round Lottery Pick Page 2

  “I already told you, Toy, no way I’m signing.”

  “Look, is it okay if I talk to you like a man in front of your people?”

  I looked around at Tori then Jalen. “You can say what you feel.”

  Jalen said, “Don’t mean a thing anyway. L ain’t doing business with you, Toy.”

  Toy looked at all of us before he spoke. His eyes stayed on Jalen a bit longer though. “See, that’s what I’m talking about. You taking advice from your boy, and he ain’t never stepped foot out of Columbus.”

  “I’ve been plenty of places,” Jalen shot back.

  “Yeah, sure. Listen to me, Langston. You’re ready. You’re a six-seven shooting guard with quick feet and defensive skills. Every trade magazine in the country has you listed a first-round lottery pick, and they know you can’t even play until you do one in college. You have the kind of face that people gravitate to, and the game to match, and for a high school kid you’re pretty bright.”

  Tori looked up at me and smiled.

  “And so?”

  “You don’t know? It means you’re marketable. You have what it takes to make millions of dollars. If you think I’m putting pressure on you, wait for a few more weeks when those white boys from all those big corporate-controlled agencies come down here and entice your young ass with any and everything to get you to sign so they can get some of you.”

  “Well, you want some too, don’t you?” Jalen asked.

  Toy smiled at him. “I do. No doubt. But what I want is to build a dynasty with L. I want to unite and do this thing right. If you didn’t know, everyone in the hood is looking at you to see what you’re going to do. And they constantly have their eyes on me, and if we could just build something, build a brand together, it would let everyone in the hood know they can do it on both ends, on the court and in the business room. Besides, if you didn’t know, there hasn’t been a player who averaged thirty-five points, sixteen rebounds, and fourteen assists since . . . me.”

  Toy smiled and flirted with Tori with his eyes, like she would even be interested in his old ass.

  Toy was a beast on the court in his day. Even though he came up when I was still trying to decide if I wanted to swing on the monkey bars or play in the sand, his name still swirled around the courts like one of those headless horsemen. He definitely had legacy in The Vil.

  “Look, man, I’m just not ready to make a commitment like that. I haven’t even graduated yet.”

  “Well, okay, okay.” Toy added, “Maybe we should talk about it more, over your place with your mother. It would be good to break bread where I grew up.”

  “Naah. No, thanks,” I told him.

  “You know the league already put restrictions on entry, L, but I have some very creative ways to get you paid.”

  “No, thanks, Toy.”

  “Look, nobody turns down stacks of millions of dollars. It just doesn’t make sense. If you’re thinking about going to school, I understand that too. But, hell, you can buy a college after you get paid. I went to school, and this you should know. If they were slinging around multimillion-dollar contracts when I was coming out of high school, the only question I would have asked them fools is the line to sign on.” Toy looked in his hand, hit a button on his key chain, and his car started up, the music pounding. Then he smiled and looked at Jalen. “Tight, ain’t it?”

  Chapter Three

  Hit, or What?

  I went to see Coach Pierce after lunch. Before he could give me another stack of college letters or tell me which recruiter promised what, I let him know I was going pro. Coach stared at me for a long while without words. He looked sad, like he was losing a son who was going to Iraq or something. I admit, Coach was always there for me. I’d known him since the seventh grade, ever since he began to make a habit out of coming to see my home games in middle school and pulling me to the side to give me a few pointers on my game. He was actually my first real experience being recruited. He would call and come over my house to make sure I would be enrolling at East High instead of the other schools that wanted me to hop on the bus and ride up to two hours just so their school could shine on the hardwood floor.

  When I left Coach’s office, I was cool. I felt like I had made the right decision, because he didn’t try to turn me away from what I decided. Coach Pierce let me know that he was going to get a press conference set up, and told me not to worry about a thing except being there and announcing my intentions.

  After talking to Coach, I skipped eighth and ninth periods. I told Jalen and Tori I was going to walk home to clear my head before I told my mom my decision because I didn’t know how she was going to react. Probably be pissed. Since the college letters began to come in the ninth grade, she always wanted me to go to UCLA. She was always so serious about school.

  There were times when she would stand over me at the kitchen table and make sure I did my homework. When I got impatient because I couldn’t grasp the concept of a trig problem, I remember telling her I was wasting my time with all the books because no one was going to hire me when I got out of school anyway because I was black. It was the last time she smacked me, and just thinking about it always puts me in the right frame of mind. She told me that I was never to let something like the color of my skin hold me back, especially on my own accord. But in the same spirit my mother stressed the importance of how difficult it was going to be for me in the world. She didn’t sugarcoat it, and that’s exactly why I chose to go overseas and play then to the NBA afterwards.

  It wasn’t like I made my decision overnight. I had been thinking about it for months before Barcelona’s call. I put things down on paper and made my decision. I thought about if I went to college how we would still more than likely have to struggle and continue to live in the projects. There was no doubt I would have to ask my mother for support to live on campus, when we were barely making it in The Vil.

  It had always been hard for me to comprehend why people thought athletes had it made when they go to college. I’d heard stories from the athletes themselves where they can’t take money from people, or aren’t allowed to make money off jerseys that the school sells with the athlete’s name on the back. I have never been with someone making money off someone else’s blood, sweat, and tears. After all, the only thing the athlete receives out of all the money colleges make is a college diploma that he doesn’t spend as much time obtaining as other students who aren’t involved in sports, because there is so much team practice involved.

  I carried good grades in school, but my mother made sure that I studied. If I wasn’t home at a certain time, Coach knew my mother would come out to the school and pull me out of practice and jump all over him. But in college, it’s your job, and your mama can’t help you then. I have never understood how football and basketball players in college did their schoolwork, with all the tournaments they have, combined with practice. Maybe that’s why the graduation rate is so low among the athletes because they go to school in the first place to have the opportunity to go pro.

  I used all five of my visits that were allowed for recruits to choose a program. Out of all the ballplayers I met, not one thought he wasn’t going to make it to the league, including the guys who didn’t get any time. I didn’t like that aspect of college, and that’s why I decided to play overseas first.

  My walk and thoughts about the situation were getting me hyped up to tell my mom of my decision because I knew she would go there. I was a few blocks from home when I heard someone calling out to me.

  “Hey, big baller!”

  I turned around to see who it was.

  “Don’t be acting like you don’t know my voice, boy.”

  Then I felt a tug on my shirt.

  “Girl, don’t be sneaking up on me like that. What’s up?”

  Katrina said, “Where you goin’?”

  “On my way home.”

  “Good. Me too. I don’t feel like doing Mr. Dean’s class today. Plus, it’s my last class of the day. I will get with him
later.”

  “You better take your butt back to class, Katrina. You know Dean don’t play that.”

  “Whatever. Why you not up in there then?”

  “’Cause I have a scout I need to talk to.”

  “Get out of here with that, Langston. You be straight milkin’ this all-American status, don’t you?”

  “Somebody’s got to do it.”

  “Well, later for Dean and his acronym-slinging ass.” Katrina looked behind us then squeezed my butt.

  “Oh, you just going to touch me like that all out in the open?”

  “I missed you, L. I mean, it ain’t like you have been touching on me. Where have you been anyway?”

  “Been handling mine, working out, whatnot.”

  “Yo’ ass been hanging with Tori. That’s what you been doing. I heard y’all was at the mall the other day. You don’t have to lie.”

  I looked down at Katrina’s smiling face and couldn’t help but smile back at her. Out of all the girls who I knew had a crush on me, she was the most aggressive.

  “Yeah, I been hanging with her too. Now what?”

  “Oh, so now it’s ‘now what’? Boy, please.”

  Katrina rolled her eyes at me then walked in front of me like she didn’t want to be bothered. She had to know I was peeping how her Apple Bottoms jeans were fitting her. As she walked, she snatched off her button-down sweater and let her matching, tight-fitting tee that stopped just above her tattoo along the small of her back shine for all to see.

  “A’ight, a’ight. Hold up, Katrina,” I called out.

  She kept walking, but now her walk was harder than any contestant on America’s Next Top Model.

  “Girl, are you going to walk with me or what?”

  She yelled back as she slowed down, “You gonna act like you know somebody or what?”

  “Okay, okay.”

  “You sure, mister basketball star?”

  “Look, I said okay.” I jogged up to her. “Got a million games, don’t you?”

  “No, you’re the one with the game, Langston.”

  “Oh, I got game?”

  Katrina put her hand on her hip. She knew I was looking her up and down. She knew how to work her look and make sure all eyes were on her when she wanted to get your attention. Katrina was about five feet nine inches, 145 pounds. with a smoking body that made even the girls look at her on a daily basis. She kept her hair in a ponytail and loved to rock low-cut jeans and short tees. I don’t know if it was just me, but she reminded me of Rema Ma.

  Katrina once wore a dress in the spring time, and when the administrator saw her in the dress and the lining of her thong, he stared at her for about five minutes. When his eyes were full, he told her to go home and change because she was way too much of a distraction.

  “You mean like how you played me last week and told me you were coming over and never did? I always told you that I have to make sure people are out the house when you come over, and I did what I had to do. Then yo’ ass don’t even show up.”

  Katrina was right. I did promise. But I couldn’t even remember the reason I didn’t go over to see her, so I just stood looking at her with nothing to say.

  “And don’t tell me it was because some scout was at your house.”

  “Come to think of it, there were three there last week. North Carolina, Kansas came through then O State.” I tried to touch her arm.

  She moved away. “Whateva. You be playing games, man.”

  “I’m not playing any games. Don’t you want me to get into school?”

  “Of course, I want your black ass to get out of here. But they’ve been after you forever. What you need to do is be a man and make up your mind and handle this business right here when you get a chance.”

  “You know it’s not that easy, Katrina. I need to make the right choice. I have to make this money.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  “But getting back to you . . . I just might handle some business sooner than you think.”

  Katrina smiled. “So what you doin’ now?”

  I pointed down the street. “I’m going home.”

  “Well, you need to be coming over my place. Nobody home. I bet you don’t even know how long it’s been since we been together.”

  “Katrina, I don’t know.”

  “If you weren’t all up in Tori, you would know. It was the week of your state championship game. That’s a long time, Langston.”

  “Long time?”

  “Yeah, it is. Didn’t you like it? I mean, you must have. You got right up, left my house then went down to the Center and scored forty-five points.”

  “So, you think you had something to do with that?”

  “I know I did. I mean, I know Tori didn’t . . . ’cause she still a virgin. Oops!”

  Everybody knew about Tori. Some even hated her for it because it set her up as a princess in The Vil. That was the price for living there. You learn early on that everyone in The Vil knows everybody, and it’s tell one, tell all.

  I didn’t have to hide from Tori the fact that I messed around with Katrina. She knew, and was with it. I wasn’t too young to know that putting it in Tori’s face wasn’t cool, so I respected her and did whatever I had to do with Katrina on the hush. At least my mouth was closed.

  Tori was cool, and that’s what I liked most about her. She was so real. Real enough to know that things happen. We had talked about it many times, and she left what I did with Katrina up to me. She wanted it to be my choice and didn’t really think it was fair for her to ask me to wait, even though she had decided to. Tori’s five sisters were the reason for her actions. Each one ended up pregnant before getting out of high school, and she didn’t want to join the club.

  Katrina and Tori were as different as night and day. Even though Tori lived in the hood, she had ideas and was working the best out of what little options she had to make it out. But Katrina was a hood rat who ran game to get hers at all cost and never talked about doing much with her life, except living in some house somewhere on the East side.

  By the time we were back in The Vil, Katrina had talked me into going over in her unit and giving her what she wanted. It wasn’t all on her, because I wanted it too.

  Chapter Four

  Bills, Bills, Bills

  When I got home around six, my mother was doing her nails. There was no room left on the couch because she was all spread out, doing her toes and whatnot, so I plopped down on the floor across from her after I kissed her on the cheek.

  “ ’Sup, Ma?”

  “Hey,” she said. She was watching a movie too while polishing. She finally looked over at me before I could see what she was watching. “So where you been?”

  “Huh?”

  “You heard me. Where have you been?”

  I didn’t know if she had already got a call from someone who saw me creeping with Katrina or what. “School, talking to Coach.”

  She gave me a long stare down like she didn’t believe me.

  “What?”

  “My phone has been ringing off the hook since three o’clock. Did you tell Tori you were going to meet her someplace?”

  “What?”

  “Tori’s been calling you. How many times I have to tell you, Langston? You tell a woman you’re going to do something then, boy, you make sure you do it.”

  I couldn’t help but snicker at my mom.

  “Don’t you dare laugh. You know I taught you better. I hate to think you’re trying to be a player up in here like the rest of these no-good men.”

  One thing’s for sure, a mother that’s been wronged by a man definitely will let a young black man know the deal without biting her tongue. My mother did all the time.

  “I just told Tori I would meet her at the library. I’ll go over there in a minute.”

  “Too late.”

  “What you mean by that?”

  “She’s coming over here.”

  “Why?”

  “’Cause I told her to.”
/>   “For what?”

  “So I could see her, talk to her.”

  “Ma, you just like Tori ’cause she’s a virgin.”

  “What’s wrong with that? That means she respects herself. Plus, she looks like me.”

  “What?”

  “You know how fine your mama is, and you went out and found a girl that looks just like her. I ain’t mad at you.”

  “You are buggin’!”

  “Our eyes are brown, we keep our hair fierce. Everybody at the games say we look alike, so get over it.”

  I glanced at my mom and tried to see what she was talking about. I didn’t see it, except for maybe a little around the eyes, and skin color. But all I know is, growing up, the men around The Vil would try to get in good with me, hoping I would take a liking to them so they could step to her, always calling out, ‘Golden Brown,’ to her.

  When I was around nine or ten, that’s when I started to walk behind my mother if we were outside, so those fools on the block couldn’t look at her butt. She didn’t figure out what I was doing until I was about fourteen. She told me there was no reason to hide her from those fools’ eyes because they didn’t have a chance at getting with her because she already had a man, and that man was me.

  “I see you lookin’ at me, Langston. Now admit it—Don’t I look like your girl?”

  “Okay, okay, you look like Tori.”

  “No, no, she looks like me, and don’t you forget it.”

  “Okay.”

  “And she’s the one you should be concentrating on, instead of some of these chickens running around here doing everything and everybody.”

  “What you mean by that?”

  “You know what I mean. Don’t try to play your mama.”

  My mother had never been afraid to get all up in my business. She always told me my business was hers until the day she died. It was the price I paid for having a mother in her thirties with a whole lot of street wisdom behind her. She knew things, lived things, and was able to relate them to me, which a lot of times kept me from taking the wrong step. It was as though my mom knew what I was thinking before I even thought it because she knew what our surroundings were about and the type of trouble I could get into.