More stories

  • in

    ‘Jersey Is Taking Over’: N.J. Hoopers Outshine the Shadow of New York

    Far more N.B.A. players have come from New York than its neighbor state. But a wave of rising stars in boys’ basketball can shift the trend.Elliot Cadeau was born in Brooklyn, but he doesn’t have any memories of living in the borough. When he was 3 months old, his parents packed up their possessions, strapped him into his car seat and decamped to New Jersey.Growing up in West Orange, Cadeau became a Jets fan. His mother, who is from Sweden, and his father, who is from Haiti, had a hard time understanding the popularity of American professional football, but they indulged their son’s obsession — to a point. He was allowed to paint his room in the Jets’ colors of green and white, but he wasn’t allowed to play the sport. His mother thought it would be too dangerous. Instead, she suggested that her 7-year-old son try out for a basketball team.Ten years later, Cadeau is a star at Bergen Catholic High School and a top-10 recruit in the class of 2024. And he’s part of an elite group of New Jersey high school basketball players who may be among the best contingent of talent the state has ever produced.Rate this layup 1-10! 🫴🍇 @ElliotCadeau @NikeEYB pic.twitter.com/4kaFOW96O2— SLAM HS Hoops (@SLAM_HS) June 14, 2022
    In addition to Cadeau — the No. 7 player in the country, according to the composite rankings of the recruiting website 247 Sports — the sophomore class includes: No. 1 Naasir Cunningham (Overtime Elite), No. 33 Dylan Harper (Don Bosco Prep) and No. 42 Tahaad Pettiford (Hudson Catholic). And the juniors a year ahead of Cadeau & Co. include: No. 1 Dajuan Wagner Jr., who goes by DJ (Camden High School), No. 3 Mackenzie Mgbako (Gill St. Bernard’s), No. 12 Simeon Wilcher (Roselle Catholic), No. 20 Aaron Bradshaw (Camden) and No. 48 Akil Watson (Roselle Catholic).“It’s been a great time to grow up playing basketball in New Jersey,” Cadeau said. “The competition and friendship among elite players here is unlike anywhere else. I don’t feel like there’s another state right now that can compete with New Jersey in terms of basketball talent.”Although New Jersey was home to some of the game’s all-time greats — including Shaquille O’Neal and Rick Barry — historically it has struggled to escape New York’s basketball shadow. In the N.B.A.’s 76 years, 419 players have hailed from New York, compared to just 146 from New Jersey, according to Basketball Reference. And on the rosters for the 2021-22 season, the disparity was just as sharp: There were 33 New Yorkers compared to just 12 New Jerseyites. But in the classes of 2023 and 2024, New Jersey has 10 top-50 recruits compared to just two from New York.DJ Wagner, the son of the former N.B.A. player Dajuan Wagner, is ranked at the top of the class of 2023.Gregory Payan/Associated Press“I don’t want to disrespect anybody,” said Billy Armstrong, who graduated from Bergen Catholic in 1994 and now coaches Cadeau. “But when I played here, the talent wasn’t nearly at the level it is now, that’s for sure. This is my 11th year as varsity coach, and I can say that in the last four or five years, the talent has really taken off. There’s this pride here when New Jersey is in the conversation as the best basketball state in the entire country.”Armstrong also played collegiate basketball at Davidson and professionally overseas. He pointed to the tenacity and toughness it takes to live in major metropolitan areas in the Northeast as part of the reason so much talent has emerged in his home state. He also thinks there’s a momentum effect in play. Players like Karl-Anthony Towns and Kyrie Irving have given children growing up in the Garden State some New Jersey-born stars to look up to. And those young players have competed against each other for years, strengthening each other’s games and helping them get noticed by recruiting services and college coaches.Since 247’s first rankings were released a year and a half ago, DJ Wagner has been considered the No. 1 player in the Class of 2023. The son of the former N.B.A. player Dajuan Wagner, DJ is a highly skilled combo guard. His game, and the attention around his recruiting, has given his teammates a leg up. Bradshaw, who plays with Wagner at Camden and on their Amateur Athletic Union team, the New Jersey Scholars, started off as a 3-star recruit. He’s now a 5-star, with offers from blue chip programs like Kentucky, Michigan and U.C.L.A.“These kids have been playing with and against each other for a long time,” Scholars Coach Jason Harrigan said. “And when you get a really special kid in a class — a kid like DJ — his competitiveness rubs off on everyone. He helps raise the level of play for the entire class, and they help him to elevate his game, too.”Nets point guard Kyrie Irving went to St. Patrick High School in Elizabeth, N.J. One reason he signed with the Nets as a free agent in 2019, he said, was to be closer to home.Brad Penner/USA Today Sports, via Reuters“I’m from Jersey. Have that a little bit of trash talk, but more the swag, the confidence we walk around in our neighborhoods with,” Minnesota Timberwolves center Karl-Anthony Towns told The New York Times in April.Andy Clayton-King/Associated PressThe talent level, combined with the recent relaxation of rules that allow college and high school athletes to earn sponsorship money, has led to unique opportunities for many players in the state. Cadeau, who has dual citizenship and plays for the Swedish national team, is represented by Roc Nation and already has a five-figure endorsement through what is known as a name, image and likeness deal, or N.I.L. And Cunningham, the No. 1 player in 2024, recently signed with Overtime Elite, a prestigious professional-development program in Atlanta. He became the first player to sign with the program without taking a salary, preserving his collegiate eligibility.“Growing up in New Jersey, every kid is dreaming of getting to the pros,” Cunningham said. “When I was little, I didn’t even know what college basketball was. I was just thinking N.B.A., N.B.A., N.B.A. But as I got older, I started thinking more about going to college. With OTE, I get pro training and education, and I get to keep my options open. Plus, I can still make money with N.I.L.”New Jersey’s coaches, of course, prefer that players remain close to home. And they say that N.I.L. is helping them persuade players to stay at their high school for all four years.“These players take pride in New Jersey,” said Dave Boff, who coaches Wilcher and Watson at Roselle Catholic. “The fans look forward to having a player who rises the ranks from his freshman to his senior seasons. And the players get to take advantage of the opportunities their talent affords while still being able to sleep in their own bed.”When he talks to college coaches about what makes this crop of New Jersey basketball prospects so coveted, Boff consistently hears one theme: toughness.Cunningham left New Jersey to play for Overtime Elite in Atlanta, and he’s proud to represent his home state. “Jersey is taking over,” he said.Gregory Payan/Associated Press“The college coaches see that New Jersey guys have confidence, they have swagger, and they aren’t afraid of physical basketball,” Boff said. “When we travel to national games, our players are always surprised by the ticky-tack foul calls. In New Jersey, the refs let our guys beat each other up a little bit, and our guys welcome that. They know they’re making each other better.”For Cunningham, leaving home wasn’t an easy decision, but he hopes to make it a little easier by recruiting some other players from New Jersey to join him in Atlanta. After all, every one of these players hopes to jump to a bigger stage — be it college basketball or OTE or the N.B.A. — sooner or later.“Jersey is taking over,” Cunningham said. “Everywhere you look in New Jersey, there’s a high-level basketball player. And soon, we’re going to be all over the country. For us, it’s about showing what our state is all about and making sure it continues the success into the future. It’s not pressure. It’s motivation.” More

  • in

    The Time Dad Locked Down Elgin Baylor

    Elgin Baylor’s N.B.A. legacy will loom large in basketball history. But the time our columnist’s father managed to defend Baylor for a half became a cherished part of family lore.Memory fades, but simple tales we hear as children can drill so deep down into us we do not forget. It’s because of such a tale, short and sweet and told with some regularity by my late father as I grew up, that I will always hold tight to the memory of the basketball great Elgin Baylor, who died this week at 86.“Did I ever tell you about the time I played Elgin Baylor?” my father would say as he looked into my eyes, filled with wonder no matter how many times he’d begun this way.“Elgin couldn’t score on me, no he couldn’t. Not in that first half he couldn’t.”There would be more to this parable, which my three older brothers also grew up hearing. It would turn into a lesson about humility and a meditation on witnessing greatness, but that start was how dad hooked me in the years not long after Baylor’s 1971 retirement from basketball, when the Lakers’ great was still widely known as a star. With that opener, and the account that followed, Baylor came to be one of the great pillars of my early imaginings.This week, there will be many fond remembrances told about Baylor. Most will focus mainly on his All-Star years in the N.B.A. This is as it should be for a player who helped revolutionize basketball with his high-flying athleticism and all-around skill. Baylor’s decade of dominance in the 1960s foreshadowed Julius Erving, Michael Jordan and the dazzling, acrobatic game we love today.Less attention will be given to Baylor’s unusual college years in the 1950s, spent far from well-known training grounds like Kansas, North Carolina or U.C.L.A.Raised in Washington D.C., Baylor was overlooked by the major powers during an era when segregation was rampant in basketball and integrated teams tended to have no more than one or two African-American players. He ended up playing for the College of Idaho. Yes, the College of Idaho.Then he transferred to another western school, Seattle University, a small Jesuit university with a lightly regarded basketball team that he promptly led to the finals of the 1958 N.C.A.A. tournament.Memories fade. Baylor, one of the most superb men’s basketball players in history, graced Seattle with his talent for years. But in the city of my birth, the city where I grew up and now live, few outside of old-timers and rock-solid sports fans know of his history here.Elgin Baylor in a game against Gonzaga while he played for Seattle University.Associated PressAlso fading from collective recall are the 1950s years when A.A.U. basketball — then a nationwide league backed by local businesses and stocked with ex-college stars who could hold their own against counterparts in the still-fledgling N.B.A. — was a force.That’s where my father went shoulder-to-shoulder with Baylor.Mel Streeter was a talent in his own right then. He had played at the University of Oregon in the early 1950s, when he was the only Black player on his teams. (Imagine that as you watch the Ducks, bursting with Black talent, in the Sweet Sixteen of the men’s tournament.) After moving with my mom to Seattle, he thrived in the fast-paced, wide-open style favored in Seattle’s powerful A.A.U. league, where games were played in front of packed crowds and were often featured prominently in the sports pages.Baylor was a part of that mix. He suited up for a powerhouse A.A.U. team: Westside Ford.I wish now that I had asked my father more about his one-and-only game against Baylor, more about that league and those times. But dad died 15 years ago. As close as we were, some of his history will always be cut off from me. I don’t know what team he was on when he played against Baylor. I don’t know if it was a big game with high stakes — like the battles that helped decide who would head off to the A.A.U. national championship.Thankfully, I have a firm recollection of the look on my father’s face as he spoke of how, in a head-to-head matchup between two tall, lithe and powerful forwards, he held Baylor to two first-half points. Oh, and dad never let any of his four sons forget that while he was holding down Baylor, he was lighting up the scoreboard. Even before my older brother Jon knew I was writing this column, the moment he heard about Baylor’s death he sent me a text with his own recollections of our family’s well-told tale: “Dad scored 11 in the first half!”But how did the game end?Whenever he came to the story’s backstretch, my dad would always smile and bring me close, letting me know that this short fable was not actually about him.As it turned out, angered at being shown up, Baylor came out in the second half determined to teach Mel Streeter a lesson. As dad told it, the entire back half of the game was essentially a blur as Baylor whipped past my father for layups or arcing, orbital jump shots. Baylor didn’t just turn the tables: He made known that he was simply a different kind of cat. He shut down dad with lockdown defense, and torched dad for 24 points.Whenever my father told this story, which was usually while we shot hoops on the basket that hung over our old garage, he never ended it sounding defeated. His smile widened and his face lit up as looked straight at me and spoke of Baylor with awe. “There was nothing I could do,” dad would say. “He was just too much.”Dad had witnessed true genius, true athletic genius, right up close, shoulder-to-shoulder under the rim inside a packed Seattle gym. And he had loved every second of the opportunity, even as he got scorched.That’s what I’m left with. My father’s thankfulness.If only he’d still been alive to hear about the first time I met Baylor, who I crossed paths with while in my role as a reporter roughly a dozen years back. It happened in Los Angeles, at the old training center for the Clippers, which Baylor struggled to run as general manager for just over 20 years.As I introduced myself, he thought for a moment about my name.“Streeter, huh?”I could see he was thinking back, working his memory to make a connection.I nudged him a bit. Without going into details, I reminded him that he’d played Mel Streeter in an old A.A.U. game.Then he put it all together.“Your dad,” he said, “let me tell you, he could play. He could really play.” More