Where Tomorrows Aren't Promised by Carmelo Anthony

Author:Carmelo Anthony
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gallery Books
Published: 2021-09-14T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINETEEN COACHES

Choosing the right high school was going to be all about following the lead of my coaches. This wasn’t really that difficult, because I didn’t have that many coaches. I always played at Robert C, except for the few times I had to venture off with Bay or Madison.

At Robert C, my coach was Mr. Wise. He ran the Rec like he owned it. You would really think his name and finances were wrapped up in the gym’s mortgage. Mr. Wise was the coordinator, event planner, director, strength coach, football coach, basketball coach, handyman, counselor, and anything else you can think of—he did it all.

I loved seeing him pull up. Dude drove a burgundy Isuzu. I guess you could call it a truck. And he looked just like a guy who would drive an Isuzu—a light-skinned, extra-curly-haired, old-school-player type. He liked to wear jeans with church shoes, sending all the moms into a frenzy.

Mr. Wise was the one who saw me and was, like, “Okay, I’m getting you together. You ain’t about to be around here running crazy, thinking you the boss! No, we ain’t doing that with you. Come on, come sign up, you’re playing baseball, you’re playing football, you’re playing basketball!” I listened to him, and he made sure I didn’t have any free time, enrolling me in every sport Robert C had to offer. Mr. Wise always had a sport for me to play around the Rec. When he recognized my talent, he was the one who threw me out to the wolves. “Playing with other kids is too easy for you, Carmelo! Time to step it up!” he’d say. Then he’d challenge me to go above and beyond my age group and try my hand against the older kids. After I’d punished all the kids in the older group, Mr. Wise would say, “Nope, still too easy, time to take on the next group!”

He’d preach, “No crying, none of that. They foul you, foul them back! They push you, push them back!” Basically reiterating everything I learned from Luck. You wouldn’t think basketball was this physical, but in the ’90s, Baltimore rec ball was like the NBA of the ’80s. Everybody cracked you like they played for the Pistons.

My football and baseball coach was the same guy, Jim Black. Black taught me the rules of sports. He taught me the importance of teamwork, playing together, and he helped me learn to focus in a strategic way.

You could see Jim coming at you from a mile away. He was as big as two guys, round, wide, and with a mouth full of teeth. That dude knew sports like the back of his hand. Baseball, basketball, football, whatever—if it involved sports, he had the facts, stats, projections, strategies, history, and anything else you needed to know. He was a walking sports encyclopedia, and he got respect for that.

By the time I got to middle school, Mr. Wise put me with Mr. Darrell Corbett at Mount Royal.

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