ducks
10-03-2004, 10:32 PM
Work ethic defines Cavs rookie
By Brian Windhorst, Beacon Journal staff writer
He grew up on John Wayne movies, bucking hay and pumping gas.
Two of his favorite childhood pastimes? Chewing sunflower seeds and plunging into the Coast Fork Willamette River off the rope swing his father built in his back yard.
He can throw a baseball left-handed upwards of 85 miles an hour, but is much more proud of his knuckle-circle change with late dropping movement, a vicious junk pitch he refers to as "devastatingly sick."
Perhaps even the most battle-tested FBI profiler couldn't predict that such personal history would produce, of all things, an NBA player, especially if a picture was included. His long, seemingly untamed, brown locks dart everywhere and his sweat mats them to his forehead when he's working, which is actually quite often.
Even his name, Luke, is deceiving. Last season, there were just as many Predrags in the NBA as there were guys named Luke. (It was two each.)
Simply put, Luke Jackson is different. And, not so simply put, Luke Jackson is different.
Beginning with Media Day on Monday, Jackson starts his pro career as a rookie with the Cavaliers, who were happy he was still around to draft with the 10th overall pick last June.
Although he's supposed to be green, at 22, he's already older than five of his teammates and is just two months younger than a sixth, Drew Gooden.
In summer league workouts and during the time he spent preparing in Cleveland in the three weeks leading up to training camp, his teammates and coaches have already seen his experience.
His lanky 6-foot-7 frame and laid-back West Coast attitude are trademarks; so is his intensity.
"He's very tough," said Cavaliers coach Paul Silas, a man who knows the meaning of the word as evidenced by the dozens of scars framing his eyes and cheekbones, battle scars from his 16 NBA seasons. "He doesn't back down from anyone on the court."
It was that mantra that made Jackson a hero in his home state of Oregon, where he's practically worshipped in his hometown. He is also a celebrity in Eu
gene, where he starred for four years at the University of Oregon.
Fitting a description as both blue collar and blue ribbon, Jackson's existence has been shaped by a stern work ethic with a refreshing sense of perspective.
"If I'm doing something, whatever it is, I'm working hard at it," Jackson said. "I've had jobs in my life and I know what a day's work is. I feel I'm very lucky to be in this situation and I feel like I'm being rewarded for my hard work."
Jackson's basketball pedigree could be called, again, different.
He didn't exactly hone his skills on urban blacktops like most of his peers. Jackson spent some of his formative years living in Alaska, where time playing outdoors was limited. During the winter months he used to pass the time by watching videos. His parents, Steve and Kathi, weren't about to let him watch anything PG-13 and once the Disney flicks had run their course, they figured John Wayne would be a good mentor.
To this day, he lists Wayne's 1969 film True Grit as one of his favorite movies.
By the time he was in his pre-teens, his family was settled in the hamlet of Creswell, a town of about 3,200. Both his father and grandfather, Dean Eusted, were played basketball at Creswell High School. When the old school was razed, his grandfather retrieved one of the rims from the old gym, put it up in his backyard and Luke used it.
By age 11, Jackson had won the Oregon state youth free-throw title after a couple thousands tries at that old rim.
"When we started to get to know Luke's family, they all said Luke gets his toughness and drive from his grandfather," Cavaliers general manager Jim Paxson said. "I think he was very important in who he is today."
When Jackson was a teen-ager, he became a star at Creswell, leading the Bulldogs to a state championship during his senior season. He was just as accomplished as a baseball player, earning all-league honors as a pitcher and center fielder. There were some baseball scouts mingling with the host of college coaches offering him plans for his future.
Although he got national exposure playing in high level AAU summer basketball, Jackson didn't get caught up in it, primarily because it simply isn't his nature.
"Kids today take things too seriously. I was just playing baseball to hang out with the boys," Jackson said. "Before I got to high school, all I wanted to do was play for the Creswell Bulldogs. When I was in high school, I thought about the state championship. When I was in college, I thought about how many games we could win in the (NCAA) tournament. I never got too far ahead of myself."
While at Oregon, Jackson watched teammates Fred Jones and close friend Luke Ridnour leave early for the NBA, but he stayed four years even though some NBA general managers promised he'd be a first-round pick if he left after his junior season.
He put up eye-popping numbers during his final go around, averaging 21.2 points, 7.2 rebounds, and 4.5 assists per game against a demanding schedule. In perhaps his signature performance, he scored 29 consecutive points in the second half in leading a 15-point comeback victory over Colorado in the NIT last March.
"Luke is such a tremendous example for young people because of his character. He never needed all the hype to be driven," Oregon coach Ernie Kent said. "He grew up learning to play the game correctly. His parents did a wonderful job. I think he surprised a lot of people when he starting doing individual workouts because he's such a complete player and he's such a smart player."
The Cavaliers, looking for a shooter with some experience, jumped on Jackson when he slipped past the Chicago Bulls and Indiana Pacers in the first nine picks. If he matures as expected through the preseason, he'll likely be a part of the Cavaliers' rotation right away.
That's important to Jackson, since he's as competitive as they come, but so is taking care of the people that got him to this point. After he signed a sponsorship deal with a car dealer in June, he got his parents new cars.
After he signed his three-year, $6 million contract with the Cavaliers, he organized a fund-raiser back at Creswell. He paid a bunch of his old college teammates and friends to play in a barnstorming game at the high school. They dunked so much in front of the sold-out house, the players broke both rims. Jackson replaced them and the school raised thousands for its athletic program.
"For me, that's as good as it gets," Jackson said. "I respect hard work and what people do for a living. It has been a joy to give something back."
All part of the Jackson attitude.
"When I was in eighth and ninth grade, I used to buck hay for a retired cop and they were the longest days of my life," he said. "I got paid $5.50 an hour to work from dawn until 4 p.m. and then come back in the cool evening hours.
"My dad has worked hard all his life. He's hung drywall for 20 years and he was driving an old truck that broke down all the time.
"I hope you'll see that (work ethic) on the court this season. I'm a competitive hard worker. I'm going to be in there scrapping
By Brian Windhorst, Beacon Journal staff writer
He grew up on John Wayne movies, bucking hay and pumping gas.
Two of his favorite childhood pastimes? Chewing sunflower seeds and plunging into the Coast Fork Willamette River off the rope swing his father built in his back yard.
He can throw a baseball left-handed upwards of 85 miles an hour, but is much more proud of his knuckle-circle change with late dropping movement, a vicious junk pitch he refers to as "devastatingly sick."
Perhaps even the most battle-tested FBI profiler couldn't predict that such personal history would produce, of all things, an NBA player, especially if a picture was included. His long, seemingly untamed, brown locks dart everywhere and his sweat mats them to his forehead when he's working, which is actually quite often.
Even his name, Luke, is deceiving. Last season, there were just as many Predrags in the NBA as there were guys named Luke. (It was two each.)
Simply put, Luke Jackson is different. And, not so simply put, Luke Jackson is different.
Beginning with Media Day on Monday, Jackson starts his pro career as a rookie with the Cavaliers, who were happy he was still around to draft with the 10th overall pick last June.
Although he's supposed to be green, at 22, he's already older than five of his teammates and is just two months younger than a sixth, Drew Gooden.
In summer league workouts and during the time he spent preparing in Cleveland in the three weeks leading up to training camp, his teammates and coaches have already seen his experience.
His lanky 6-foot-7 frame and laid-back West Coast attitude are trademarks; so is his intensity.
"He's very tough," said Cavaliers coach Paul Silas, a man who knows the meaning of the word as evidenced by the dozens of scars framing his eyes and cheekbones, battle scars from his 16 NBA seasons. "He doesn't back down from anyone on the court."
It was that mantra that made Jackson a hero in his home state of Oregon, where he's practically worshipped in his hometown. He is also a celebrity in Eu
gene, where he starred for four years at the University of Oregon.
Fitting a description as both blue collar and blue ribbon, Jackson's existence has been shaped by a stern work ethic with a refreshing sense of perspective.
"If I'm doing something, whatever it is, I'm working hard at it," Jackson said. "I've had jobs in my life and I know what a day's work is. I feel I'm very lucky to be in this situation and I feel like I'm being rewarded for my hard work."
Jackson's basketball pedigree could be called, again, different.
He didn't exactly hone his skills on urban blacktops like most of his peers. Jackson spent some of his formative years living in Alaska, where time playing outdoors was limited. During the winter months he used to pass the time by watching videos. His parents, Steve and Kathi, weren't about to let him watch anything PG-13 and once the Disney flicks had run their course, they figured John Wayne would be a good mentor.
To this day, he lists Wayne's 1969 film True Grit as one of his favorite movies.
By the time he was in his pre-teens, his family was settled in the hamlet of Creswell, a town of about 3,200. Both his father and grandfather, Dean Eusted, were played basketball at Creswell High School. When the old school was razed, his grandfather retrieved one of the rims from the old gym, put it up in his backyard and Luke used it.
By age 11, Jackson had won the Oregon state youth free-throw title after a couple thousands tries at that old rim.
"When we started to get to know Luke's family, they all said Luke gets his toughness and drive from his grandfather," Cavaliers general manager Jim Paxson said. "I think he was very important in who he is today."
When Jackson was a teen-ager, he became a star at Creswell, leading the Bulldogs to a state championship during his senior season. He was just as accomplished as a baseball player, earning all-league honors as a pitcher and center fielder. There were some baseball scouts mingling with the host of college coaches offering him plans for his future.
Although he got national exposure playing in high level AAU summer basketball, Jackson didn't get caught up in it, primarily because it simply isn't his nature.
"Kids today take things too seriously. I was just playing baseball to hang out with the boys," Jackson said. "Before I got to high school, all I wanted to do was play for the Creswell Bulldogs. When I was in high school, I thought about the state championship. When I was in college, I thought about how many games we could win in the (NCAA) tournament. I never got too far ahead of myself."
While at Oregon, Jackson watched teammates Fred Jones and close friend Luke Ridnour leave early for the NBA, but he stayed four years even though some NBA general managers promised he'd be a first-round pick if he left after his junior season.
He put up eye-popping numbers during his final go around, averaging 21.2 points, 7.2 rebounds, and 4.5 assists per game against a demanding schedule. In perhaps his signature performance, he scored 29 consecutive points in the second half in leading a 15-point comeback victory over Colorado in the NIT last March.
"Luke is such a tremendous example for young people because of his character. He never needed all the hype to be driven," Oregon coach Ernie Kent said. "He grew up learning to play the game correctly. His parents did a wonderful job. I think he surprised a lot of people when he starting doing individual workouts because he's such a complete player and he's such a smart player."
The Cavaliers, looking for a shooter with some experience, jumped on Jackson when he slipped past the Chicago Bulls and Indiana Pacers in the first nine picks. If he matures as expected through the preseason, he'll likely be a part of the Cavaliers' rotation right away.
That's important to Jackson, since he's as competitive as they come, but so is taking care of the people that got him to this point. After he signed a sponsorship deal with a car dealer in June, he got his parents new cars.
After he signed his three-year, $6 million contract with the Cavaliers, he organized a fund-raiser back at Creswell. He paid a bunch of his old college teammates and friends to play in a barnstorming game at the high school. They dunked so much in front of the sold-out house, the players broke both rims. Jackson replaced them and the school raised thousands for its athletic program.
"For me, that's as good as it gets," Jackson said. "I respect hard work and what people do for a living. It has been a joy to give something back."
All part of the Jackson attitude.
"When I was in eighth and ninth grade, I used to buck hay for a retired cop and they were the longest days of my life," he said. "I got paid $5.50 an hour to work from dawn until 4 p.m. and then come back in the cool evening hours.
"My dad has worked hard all his life. He's hung drywall for 20 years and he was driving an old truck that broke down all the time.
"I hope you'll see that (work ethic) on the court this season. I'm a competitive hard worker. I'm going to be in there scrapping