Chapter 3
Today was my first official practice with my new team.
I opted to be traded to the Ramblers because in Kansas City I was the third biggest player.
The spotlight was harder to triangulate when you had to share it with two other people.
Ramblers CEO, Sariah Thornton and Coach Justus Chappel assured me I would be the new face of the team.
Currently Colin Pratt was considered the star player, but he was getting older and had done little to move the needle on a championship.
Just consider me the David Ruffin to his Otis.
It was very clear I was being hired and granted a huge contract and signing bonus because they believed I could do what Pratt had not …
deliver a championship. To be honest, it felt like the Ramblers organization was more confident than I was.
Sure, I knew what was required to win and I was willing to sacrifice everything else for a chance at a championship.
But at the end of the day, just like the Temptations, shit would fall apart quick, fast, and in a hurry if the team wasn’t on the same page.
My expertise was ball handling, not interpersonal skills.
We had a great coach and some really talented players and while I didn’t have a plan per se, I had concepts of a vague plan and it was simple. Win more games than you lose.
“Hey newbie, pass the ball,” Colin Pratt yelled.
I wasn’t a newbie. I’d been in the NBA for over five years.
And Colin Pratt didn’t get to tell me what to do.
If I allowed this motherfucker to son me on my first day that would be our dynamic the entire season.
The only thing Pratt had on me was years.
Neither him nor these other players were going to determine my fate.
I was more than capable of being an asshole right back.
Dribbling the ball, I walked further away from the hoop until I was well beyond three-point range and took a shot.
A shot that circled the rim before sinking into the basket.
“Shit the newbie is locked in,” Deion said.
As an accountability buddy, Deion seemed alright.
His tongue was sharp, never holding anything back, and he wasn’t looking to make a new friend.
He kept me under his wing because that was part of his job.
And upon first meeting him, he let me know there were in fact dumb questions and I shouldn’t be asking him any of them.
I get it, no one wanted to babysit the new kid. So I tried to stay out of his hair.
“Practice ain’t real life. And when you have twenty thousand fans booing and jeering you, I bet your hand isn’t as steady,” Pratt claimed.
I cleared my throat. “Basketball is what I do. So, whether it’s a three-pointer …
” I drilled another three. “A jump shot.” I drifted to the left before surging to the right and dropping another basket.
“Or a slam dunk.” Palming the ball, I backed up to give myself a runway before launching myself into the air and pushing the ball over the rim.
“The results are going to be the same every single time.”
I believed in respecting my elders, but one thing I wasn’t going to allow was the disrespect.
Pratt saw me as his replacement and felt a way about it, but that didn’t have shit to do with me.
He could work with me or against me. And if it was the latter, he would find himself riding the bench this year.
I didn’t need new friends. I needed a championship ring.
Coach Justus rapped his hands together from the sidelines. “Okay, stop goofing off and let’s start with conditioning drills. Up and down the court fifteen times. Mosley a word.”
I jogged over to where Coach was standing. “Yes, Coach.”
“Stop playing with your food. No one likes a showboat.”
“I wasn’t showing off, I was just giving them a preview of what’s to come.”
“Cocky players lose games.”
“Kobe was cocky.”
“Motherfucker you’re not Kobe.” Coach Justus didn’t mince words, and he wasn’t looking to hold a brother’s hand.
From what I’d seen of him thus far, he seemed firm but fair.
He was also driven, when he visited me in Kansas City to discuss a possible trade I was impressed by his passion and love for the sport.
Coach being a former player and ring holder was also appealing because it meant he understood what it would take to win.
“So shut up and dribble. Got it.”
“I’m not telling you to take everything on the chin, but you could try to make this transition easier.”
“And what does Pratt have to do?”
“I’m having similar conversations with him about his current attitude. You let me handle Pratt and you focus on the game.”
“Alright.”
“Now go run.”
When practice wrapped, I was greeted by several missed calls from my mother.
The Ramblers Training Facility was massive with large spaces that produced an echo when you spoke.
I located a discreet area and ducked into an empty conference room.
Upon entering, the lights flickered on and the projection screen displayed the Ramblers logo, a basketball ablaze in flames.
Dropping into one of the oversized leather seats, I returned my mom’s call.
“Hello?”
“Is everything okay?” Calls from my mother always wrecked my nerves because I never knew if she was just calling to say hello or tell me she needed bail money for my father, uncle or brother. Shit if I’m being real, a call like that could be about any man in my family and a few of the women.
“Of course it is, baby. How’s Vegas?”
Despite being exhausted, I couldn’t help but smile. “Hi Mom. Vegas is Vegas.”
“Have you found a place yet?”
“I haven’t even been here a week.”
“So where do they have you staying?” I could tell she was doing several other things while talking to me, washing the dishes and moving in and out of the house.
“I’m staying in a hotel at the moment.”
“Have you met the team?”
It was clear this conversation was going to be heavy on the questions. “I did and they all love me,” I teased.
“What’s not to love? I raised my baby right.” She tsked and then under her breath she said, “Why is this man lying to Judge Mathis.”
“How’s work?”
“You know Denise, my new coworker? She just told my boss she felt uncomfortable around me because I never engage in small talk.”
“No, she didn’t.”
“Yes, she did. She’s lucky I’m a God-fearing woman because my tongue and these fists stay ready.”
“Momma, you can’t go around beating people up.”
“I didn’t, but I wanted to. She needs to mind her business. I get my work done and don’t bother nobody.”
“Well once I’m settled in here you can tell nosy Denise to suck it.
” This new contract elevated my tax bracket big time.
I was making decent money in Kansas, but my Ramblers contract was the kind that created generational wealth.
We grew up poor, I’m talking me and my brother sleeping in the living room because we could only afford a two-bedroom apartment, and the rooms were reserved for my parents and sister.
So poor I could never participate in the Scholastic Book Fairs at school.
Except for that one time when my fifth-grade teacher, Ms. Hammel, gave me ten dollars to buy a book.
I purchased Diary of a Wimpy Kid, and an eraser shaped like a boom box.
Money was always tight, some months we’d gone without water or electricity.
But my mother always found a way to get us through.
I’d been working since I was ten doing odd jobs around the neighborhood.
When I turned thirteen, I started working as a bicycle delivery person for a local Chinese restaurant.
The only reason they hired me was because I lied about my age, and my height allowed me to look a convincing sixteen.
They paid me in cash, which meant I could keep some of my money before handing over the rest to my mother for household bills or groceries.
“I wanted to tell her my son was a famous basketball player.”
“Okay Mom, we talked about this. You can’t start every conversation with the professional ballplayer card.”
“Why not? Parents whose children are doctors or lawyers do it all the time.
“Yeah well, they shouldn’t either.
“So, when can your father and I come to visit?”
My mother was always welcome. My father, however, could jump off the Girard Point Bridge and I wouldn’t shed a tear.
Problem was, my mother refused to travel without him despite him being a useless piece of shit.
I wasn’t up for visitors, not right now.
I’d be a horrible host because of practice, my time in the gym, and this house search. “Once I’m settled, we can talk.”
“Well have you started looking?”
“Yes, I met with the realtor the other day. Funny enough—” I stopped short, deciding against mentioning Danessa.
When we were dating, my mom loved her. Honestly, I think she was just glad I’d brought home a Black girl.
Once we broke up, Danessa quickly went from future daughter-in-law to the one that got away for both me and my mother.
My phone dinged with an incoming message from Nori. “Mom, I have to go. Talk to you later.”
“Okay, don’t forget to call your uncle and wish him a happy birthday.”
“Sure thing.” I was not going to call my uncle, but to appease my mother I would shoot off a HBD text.
I pulled up Nori’s series of text messages.
Nori: Updates, the moving van has been located and should be here by the end of the week.
Nori: The hotel wants to know if you would like a personal butler.
Nori: You have an interview with ESPN next week. More on that later.
Aldridge: Is the butler free?
Nori: No, there’s an additional fee.
Aldridge: Then the answer is no. And what exactly do I need a butler for?”
Nori: Make dinner reservations, drop off your dry cleaning, purchase tickets to the latest show.
Aldridge: That’s what I pay you for.
Nori: I know but you’re in Vegas now. I’m sure these athletes’ assistants have assistants.
Aldridge: Don’t get any ideas. We are not like these other rich folks. We are on a budget.”
Upon hire she took one look at my household and whipped that shit into shape.
Nothing moved unless she greenlit it. She kept me on schedule, fixed any inconveniences, and made sure I linked up with the hottest designers.
Nori touched everything but my finances, which were exclusively handled by me and my accounting firm.
I would be damned if I ended up like some of these other celebrities who at the end of their reign had nothing to show for it.
I didn’t play about my money mostly because I wasn’t the only one depending on that check each month.
Even though I was grown and my mother worked, I still supported my childhood household.
And by support I meant I paid the mortgage, car notes, school fee, and college tuition.
I couldn’t fuck this up because if I did, the impact would be so much bigger than just me.
Nori: One last thing. I heard back from the realtor, and it sounds like she’s been busy. She has a bunch of homes lined up for you.
Aldridge: Great.
Nori: Was that a great I’m so excited or a great one more thing to do?
Aldridge: Maybe a mix of both.
Nori: When do I get the story about you two?
Aldridge: You don’t.
Nori: Do you want me to hit pause on the home search?
That was an excellent question. I needed a place.
Staying at a hotel was a waste of money and was not sustainable long term.
It wasn’t the house hunt that was the problem.
It was who the hunt was with, Danessa. Seeing her again after all this time caused some feelings to resurface.
Like what gave her the right to be walking around Vegas clearly thriving and acting like she’d leveled up since me.
She was finer than I remember her being.
She didn’t have any business looking that good.
And her smile … was there a man in her life who was being treated to that smile and phat ass every day.
I’m not implying she wasn’t allowed to move on, but it made it hard for me to pretend she regretted her decision to leave me when clearly she didn’t.
Aldridge: No, the sooner I can find a place the better.
Nori: Got it. Then I’ll tell Danessa it’s a go for Saturday.
Aldridge: Great.