tlongII
12-18-2011, 01:34 PM
http://www.oregonlive.com/blazers/index.ssf/2011/12/new_blazers_guard_jamal_crawford_to_me_the_northwe .html
When he was 16, Jamal Crawford ran away from home.
It was an elaborate scheme, right down to the secret plane ticket bought by his sister and the hidden suitcase in the backyard of the Los Angeles home of his father and grandmother. Three weeks before the date on his plane ticket, he started packing, taking off his school clothes and stashing them in the suitcase.
It wasn't that life was so terrible in Los Angeles. His father and grandmother were providing him with the structure he so badly needed. He learned basic etiquette, like the proper way to set a table. He learned the value of having chores, like picking up after the dog. And he gained perspective by attending church on Sundays.
But there was one problem: It wasn't Seattle.
His mom had sent him away from Seattle twice because she didn't like the path on which he was headed. He wasn't even a teenager, yet he was coming home at 11 p.m., sometimes midnight.
He needed a male influence, she figured, so she sent him to his father in Los Angeles -- once when he was in the fourth grade, which lasted for two years, then again before the eighth grade, which lasted three years.
Each time he found a way back to Seattle.
"I just knew Seattle was the place for me," Crawford said.
Fifteen years later, Crawford has made another getaway, and once again it is driven by his ties to Seattle.
After playing 11 NBA seasons in Chicago, New York, Oakland and Atlanta, Crawford on Thursday turned down more money, better teams and longer contracts to come play in Portland, where at less than 175 miles away is the closest NBA city to Seattle.
"To me, the Northwest is the best," Crawford said. "The air, it feels cleaner. The people are so nice and caring. Every time I fly in on a plane, I say, 'I'm never leaving here.' It's just different. People who aren't from here don't get it. It just fits certain people."
So perhaps it was of no surprise Saturday that after his first practice with the Trail Blazers, Crawford felt so at home.
"It felt like I'm supposed to be here," Crawford said. "It felt natural. Normal."
However, what he did on the court during the 2 1/2-hour workout was anything but normal. There have been some impressive players in this gym in the last few years -- Brandon Roy, Andre Miller, LaMarcus Aldridge among them -- and rarely does coach Nate McMillan break away from his team-first policy long enough to praise a player. But after watching Crawford play three games with group of no-names who would be cut after the practice, and come away with two victories, he was impressed.
"Jamal was always a guy I was intrigued with coaching one day," McMillan said. "And to watch him today ..."
McMillan paused. He stammered looking for the right words. Finally, he spread his hands wide and smiled.
"You know, he can play," McMillan said. "The kid can play."
The way Crawford sees it, Saturday figures to be the first of many positive impressions he leaves on Portland. But he wasn't talking about zip-passes, three-pointers or spin moves. The essence of Crawford extends far beyond basketball and is captured by a quote on his Twitter profile that reads "I love basketball, but basketball doesn't define me."
"Honestly, I want to be known as a great ball player, but it's more important for me to be known as a good person," Crawford said. "Like seriously, the greatest gift you have as a person is to give something to somebody else. I don't want people to receive me because I scored 20 points. I want it to be because I made an impression on them that lasts forever."
All Seattle, all the time
When he ran away from Los Angeles and resettled in Seattle as a junior in high school, Crawford knew it was time to change. Even though he was a gifted basketball player, he never touched the floor for Dorsey High School in Los Angeles because his grades were not good enough.
"It was a conscious decision," Crawford said. "I knew what I was doing: I wasn't doing anything. I wanted to hang out."
Back in Seattle, the late-night carousing stopped. And he started taking school seriously. There was beginning to be what Crawford called "a movement" in the Seattle basketball scene. Doug Christie was in the NBA. Jason Terry and Michael Dickerson started getting Division I scholarships. Suddenly, basketball and school became important byproducts of each other.
That Seattle "movement" has become a tsunami of talent that has crashed the NBA. Last year, the Seattle area boasted 15 NBA players, including Crawford, Terry, Roy, Aaron Brooks, Rodney Stuckey, Martell Webster, Spencer Hawes and Nate Robinson.
He says his success is because of his family, and because of his city, which provided a nurturing place for growth, both as a player and person. As a result, he has vowed to never forget Seattle and to always give back.
He has Seattle's 206 area code tattooed prominently on his right biceps, and the Space Needle is proudly displayed on top of his right hand. And for the past 11 years, his watch and clocks have all been set to the Pacific time zone even though he played in Chicago, New York and Atlanta.
"It's everything I am," Crawford said. "I give Seattle credit for grooming me, making me the person I am today."
He has become such a role model that at 31 he has already been presented the keys to two cities: Seattle and Renton, Wash.
His community efforts are usually centered around two things: Schools and basketball.
He gave $100,000 to renovate the gym at Rainier Beach, his Seattle high school, and $50,000 to renovate Liberty Park in Renton. He also provides more than 500 backpacks to Seattle youths in the fall as part of his Back to School Backpack giveaway.
"What makes it cool is each backpack comes with pencils, papers, erasers," Crawford said. "And each boy gets a haircut. So on that first day of school, the kid is feeling pretty good about going to class."
He teamed with Seattle mayor Mike McGinn to promote Be Here to Get There, which rewards Seattle students for not missing class, and he raised enough money to equip all Seattle Public Schools with an athletic trainer and a defibrillator for sporting events.
"We just heard that one of those defibrillators saved someone's life," Crawford said proudly.
He also annually feeds more than 2,000 Seattle families at Thanksgiving, gives away Christmas trees in whichever city he is playing in, and has an annual Fourth of July barbeque at Green Lake Park in Seattle.
"This guy, he has a great heart," said McMillan, who spent 19 years in Seattle with the now-departed Sonics. "He gives back. A lot. And he will give to this community, because he loves kids and he loves doing things for people."
Added Roy, one of Crawford's closest friends: "He's a good dude, almost too good of a dude at times, because sometimes he's such a giver that people run him over. But that's who he is. Especially here in Seattle, he does so much for people. He just loves people and wherever there are people, he wants to be there."
"He's just a good person"
Crawford signed with Portland for two seasons, with the option to get out of the contract after one season. He says people shouldn't read into that as him wanting to leave, but rather as him having the opportunity to renegotiate a long-term contract after this season.
He made $10 million last season, taking a $5 million paycut to play in Portland. He had narrowed his choices to Portland, Sacramento and New York, but when word leaked that he was interested in a short-term deal, Crawford said a swarm of teams came in with late offers that he rebuffed because he didn't want to make his decision any tougher.
"It truly, truly wasn't about the money. To be very honest, I thought we would be locked out all year, so any contract is gravy," Crawford said. "This just seemed like the right fit. It just felt so right."
It's a decision that has made his mother and sisters in Seattle happy, as well as his girlfriend, Tori and their 18-month-old son, J.J. The only downside is his oldest son, 13-year-old Eric, lives in Atlanta, and will be relegated to visits on holidays and breaks from school.
"Eric is the coolest kid ever," Crawford said, noting that he is into band, sports, and dancing. "Like seriously, if I left the room and let you spend two hours with him, you would be, 'Oh my God, he's the coolest kid ever.' He's a charmer, that's for sure."
It's not hard to figure from where he got the charm. Crawford is as engaging and personable as any NBA player -- a look-you-in-the-eye gentleman who can light a room with his smile and charisma.
And oh yeah, he happens to have a pretty decent basketball game, too.
"He has a handle (dribble) and a knack for making the big play that is ridiculous," Roy said. "You can't understand it until you are around him. But I don't think anyone can dribble like that. And the deeper or bigger the moment gets, the bigger he gets. And there won't be a guy in the locker room who doesn't get along with him. He's just a good person."
To Crawford, that praise from one of his closest friends would cover his two goals: being a great basketball player and a good person.
But on Saturday, McMillan gave Crawford another goal.
"I told him that I'm going to coach him, challenge him, try to make him better," McMillan said. "Because my thing is to help get both he and Roy's jersey into the rafters. That's what I told him: 'Let's get both of you in the rafters.'"
When he was 16, Jamal Crawford ran away from home.
It was an elaborate scheme, right down to the secret plane ticket bought by his sister and the hidden suitcase in the backyard of the Los Angeles home of his father and grandmother. Three weeks before the date on his plane ticket, he started packing, taking off his school clothes and stashing them in the suitcase.
It wasn't that life was so terrible in Los Angeles. His father and grandmother were providing him with the structure he so badly needed. He learned basic etiquette, like the proper way to set a table. He learned the value of having chores, like picking up after the dog. And he gained perspective by attending church on Sundays.
But there was one problem: It wasn't Seattle.
His mom had sent him away from Seattle twice because she didn't like the path on which he was headed. He wasn't even a teenager, yet he was coming home at 11 p.m., sometimes midnight.
He needed a male influence, she figured, so she sent him to his father in Los Angeles -- once when he was in the fourth grade, which lasted for two years, then again before the eighth grade, which lasted three years.
Each time he found a way back to Seattle.
"I just knew Seattle was the place for me," Crawford said.
Fifteen years later, Crawford has made another getaway, and once again it is driven by his ties to Seattle.
After playing 11 NBA seasons in Chicago, New York, Oakland and Atlanta, Crawford on Thursday turned down more money, better teams and longer contracts to come play in Portland, where at less than 175 miles away is the closest NBA city to Seattle.
"To me, the Northwest is the best," Crawford said. "The air, it feels cleaner. The people are so nice and caring. Every time I fly in on a plane, I say, 'I'm never leaving here.' It's just different. People who aren't from here don't get it. It just fits certain people."
So perhaps it was of no surprise Saturday that after his first practice with the Trail Blazers, Crawford felt so at home.
"It felt like I'm supposed to be here," Crawford said. "It felt natural. Normal."
However, what he did on the court during the 2 1/2-hour workout was anything but normal. There have been some impressive players in this gym in the last few years -- Brandon Roy, Andre Miller, LaMarcus Aldridge among them -- and rarely does coach Nate McMillan break away from his team-first policy long enough to praise a player. But after watching Crawford play three games with group of no-names who would be cut after the practice, and come away with two victories, he was impressed.
"Jamal was always a guy I was intrigued with coaching one day," McMillan said. "And to watch him today ..."
McMillan paused. He stammered looking for the right words. Finally, he spread his hands wide and smiled.
"You know, he can play," McMillan said. "The kid can play."
The way Crawford sees it, Saturday figures to be the first of many positive impressions he leaves on Portland. But he wasn't talking about zip-passes, three-pointers or spin moves. The essence of Crawford extends far beyond basketball and is captured by a quote on his Twitter profile that reads "I love basketball, but basketball doesn't define me."
"Honestly, I want to be known as a great ball player, but it's more important for me to be known as a good person," Crawford said. "Like seriously, the greatest gift you have as a person is to give something to somebody else. I don't want people to receive me because I scored 20 points. I want it to be because I made an impression on them that lasts forever."
All Seattle, all the time
When he ran away from Los Angeles and resettled in Seattle as a junior in high school, Crawford knew it was time to change. Even though he was a gifted basketball player, he never touched the floor for Dorsey High School in Los Angeles because his grades were not good enough.
"It was a conscious decision," Crawford said. "I knew what I was doing: I wasn't doing anything. I wanted to hang out."
Back in Seattle, the late-night carousing stopped. And he started taking school seriously. There was beginning to be what Crawford called "a movement" in the Seattle basketball scene. Doug Christie was in the NBA. Jason Terry and Michael Dickerson started getting Division I scholarships. Suddenly, basketball and school became important byproducts of each other.
That Seattle "movement" has become a tsunami of talent that has crashed the NBA. Last year, the Seattle area boasted 15 NBA players, including Crawford, Terry, Roy, Aaron Brooks, Rodney Stuckey, Martell Webster, Spencer Hawes and Nate Robinson.
He says his success is because of his family, and because of his city, which provided a nurturing place for growth, both as a player and person. As a result, he has vowed to never forget Seattle and to always give back.
He has Seattle's 206 area code tattooed prominently on his right biceps, and the Space Needle is proudly displayed on top of his right hand. And for the past 11 years, his watch and clocks have all been set to the Pacific time zone even though he played in Chicago, New York and Atlanta.
"It's everything I am," Crawford said. "I give Seattle credit for grooming me, making me the person I am today."
He has become such a role model that at 31 he has already been presented the keys to two cities: Seattle and Renton, Wash.
His community efforts are usually centered around two things: Schools and basketball.
He gave $100,000 to renovate the gym at Rainier Beach, his Seattle high school, and $50,000 to renovate Liberty Park in Renton. He also provides more than 500 backpacks to Seattle youths in the fall as part of his Back to School Backpack giveaway.
"What makes it cool is each backpack comes with pencils, papers, erasers," Crawford said. "And each boy gets a haircut. So on that first day of school, the kid is feeling pretty good about going to class."
He teamed with Seattle mayor Mike McGinn to promote Be Here to Get There, which rewards Seattle students for not missing class, and he raised enough money to equip all Seattle Public Schools with an athletic trainer and a defibrillator for sporting events.
"We just heard that one of those defibrillators saved someone's life," Crawford said proudly.
He also annually feeds more than 2,000 Seattle families at Thanksgiving, gives away Christmas trees in whichever city he is playing in, and has an annual Fourth of July barbeque at Green Lake Park in Seattle.
"This guy, he has a great heart," said McMillan, who spent 19 years in Seattle with the now-departed Sonics. "He gives back. A lot. And he will give to this community, because he loves kids and he loves doing things for people."
Added Roy, one of Crawford's closest friends: "He's a good dude, almost too good of a dude at times, because sometimes he's such a giver that people run him over. But that's who he is. Especially here in Seattle, he does so much for people. He just loves people and wherever there are people, he wants to be there."
"He's just a good person"
Crawford signed with Portland for two seasons, with the option to get out of the contract after one season. He says people shouldn't read into that as him wanting to leave, but rather as him having the opportunity to renegotiate a long-term contract after this season.
He made $10 million last season, taking a $5 million paycut to play in Portland. He had narrowed his choices to Portland, Sacramento and New York, but when word leaked that he was interested in a short-term deal, Crawford said a swarm of teams came in with late offers that he rebuffed because he didn't want to make his decision any tougher.
"It truly, truly wasn't about the money. To be very honest, I thought we would be locked out all year, so any contract is gravy," Crawford said. "This just seemed like the right fit. It just felt so right."
It's a decision that has made his mother and sisters in Seattle happy, as well as his girlfriend, Tori and their 18-month-old son, J.J. The only downside is his oldest son, 13-year-old Eric, lives in Atlanta, and will be relegated to visits on holidays and breaks from school.
"Eric is the coolest kid ever," Crawford said, noting that he is into band, sports, and dancing. "Like seriously, if I left the room and let you spend two hours with him, you would be, 'Oh my God, he's the coolest kid ever.' He's a charmer, that's for sure."
It's not hard to figure from where he got the charm. Crawford is as engaging and personable as any NBA player -- a look-you-in-the-eye gentleman who can light a room with his smile and charisma.
And oh yeah, he happens to have a pretty decent basketball game, too.
"He has a handle (dribble) and a knack for making the big play that is ridiculous," Roy said. "You can't understand it until you are around him. But I don't think anyone can dribble like that. And the deeper or bigger the moment gets, the bigger he gets. And there won't be a guy in the locker room who doesn't get along with him. He's just a good person."
To Crawford, that praise from one of his closest friends would cover his two goals: being a great basketball player and a good person.
But on Saturday, McMillan gave Crawford another goal.
"I told him that I'm going to coach him, challenge him, try to make him better," McMillan said. "Because my thing is to help get both he and Roy's jersey into the rafters. That's what I told him: 'Let's get both of you in the rafters.'"