Willie Cauley-Stein on his tattoos, guarding Boogie Cousins and keeping it 100 The Sacramento Kings big man talks about painting, why his middle name is ‘Trill’ and that time he met LeBron in a Vegas elevator

If Willie Cauley-Stein had a creed, it’d be simple: Keep it (insert 100 emoji). That’s exactly how the third-year center of the Sacramento Kings strives to operate — on the court, and especially off.

When he’s not banging in the post or catching lobs, the 7-footer is flicking a paintbrush across a canvas or brainstorming ideas for his athleisure and lifestyle clothing lines — plans are in the works for both. Cauley-Stein is all about sharing his sauce, and he can dress with the best of them. He even has a dope nickname to go along with his unique style. Back in his college days at the University of Kentucky, before the Kings selected him with the No. 6 overall pick in the 2015 draft, his friends began calling him “Trill,” which fit him so well that he made it his legal middle name.

Now in the middle of what’s statistically the best season of his pro career — 12.4 points, 6.8 rebounds and 2.2 assists a game — the 24-year-old hooper from Spearville, Kansas, chops it up about his nickname and jersey number, as well as the most important things he learned from former Kings teammate DeMarcus Cousins. Oh, yeah, and he shoots his shot with his celebrity crush. That’s how trill Willie Cauley-Stein is.


When did you start painting?

I probably started painting when I was in preschool. I remember my first time mixing red and blue and making purple. It was just over from there. But painting, seriously? High school. [And] I took art classes into college. Now it’s on a different level.

How often do you get a chance to paint?

I gotta lot of downtime after workouts and basketball. Whenever I really want to, I can paint. It kinda just goes by my emotions and feelings at the time.

Do you have a favorite painting you’ve done?

I did a Bob Marley piece for one of my barbers. I did it in like 30 minutes, but it looks like I put a lot of time into it. It looks so, so smooth to me. I don’t know why. That’s probably my favorite one.

How would you describe your artistic style?

It’s street art, but not as free as I feel like most street art is. It’s more structured … I don’t know. I’ve never had to explain it before.

Instagram Photo

How would you describe your personal style?

Very free. Definitely an expression of my emotion. How I dress is the way I feel. If I’m wearing bright colors, I’m probably in a great mood. Dark colors … I’m just there.

What’s your favorite piece in your closet right now?

I couldn’t tell you. I have a lot of sauce, dude. I have a huge Bape collection. I gotta pretty big Off-White collection too. A lot of Gucci. I like it all.

What made you want to start your clothing line, Will Change Sports?

I honestly just got tired of spending hella money on other people’s stuff when I can do it myself. So I just decided, why not invest in my own creativity?

Five years from now, where do you see your clothing company?

The sky’s the limit. It’ll go wherever I want it to go, based on how much energy and effort I put into it. This is only the first one; I want a lifestyle brand too. The one that’s dropping next month is a sporting brand, but I have a whole lifestyle brand that I got like four seasons done on already drawn up.

Name one pair of shoes you could wear for the rest of your life.

For the rest of my life? … Probably a classic black and white Chuck Taylor, low-op. That’s because I feel like they’d last forever, and black and white goes with anything.

Why do you wear the No. 00?

Because I’m just 100. I’m real. I’m completely authentic. So me standing up is the one, and the 00 makes the 100.

How’d you get the nickname ‘Trill’?

In college, I had a few friends that were from Houston. They started calling me ‘Trill Will.’ I liked the way they were using the word so much that I started going by just ‘Trill.’ One day I had to go to the courthouse to get my name legally changed to Cauley-Stein. So I was like, ‘Mom, I’m trying to change my middle name too.’ She said, ‘OK.’ Trill it was.

What was your previous middle name?

Durmond.

Who’s the most famous person following you on IG [Instagram]?

Shoot, I don’t even know. Maybe Drake? … LeBron? I’ve never really looked, so now I’m curious.

If you could take one celebrity on a date, who would it be and why?

Wowwwww. Interesting. Probably India Love, honestly. I follow her Instagram, and she just got a lot of sauce, man. I’m interested in how she be thinking, though.

Where would you take her?

Shoot, I don’t know … anywhere! It don’t matter. I’m a big steak connoisseur, so I’d probably have to take her to Miami and check out Salt Bae’s restaurant, see what my man is doing.

Have you ever been starstruck?

About a year ago, I met Allen Iverson for the first time, and that was so surreal to me. Being a big dude but having him as one of your idols growing up was cool to me. When I met him, it was crazy. I was like, ‘This is A.I. … looking like he could still come out here and hoop. But also, maybe right after my rookie year, Cleveland had just won it, and I ran into LeBron in the elevator in Vegas. That was crazy. It was just me, him, Tristan Thompson and one of my homies. I was just like, ‘Wow … I’m with LeBron right now.’ It was completely random … I just dapped him up, said, ‘What’s good?’ and kept it pushing. Went on my way.

What’s your most meaningful tattoo?

I’m emotionally attached to all of them, but I’d probably go with the ones dedicated to my fallen soldiers. My little man, Blake [Hundley] … he had cancer when I was in college. I was with him through the last parts of his life. He changed my life, on some real stuff. So I got ‘Team Blake’ on my neck … everywhere I go, he goes with me. Every time anybody sees me, they’re gonna see his name. That’s pretty important to me. Also, one of my friends died from a Xanax overdose, so I put him on my face. His initials. Those are probably my favorite ones.

If you could dunk on one NBA player, past or present, who would it be and why?

Wilt Chamberlain, for sure. That would be a crazy poster in my room.

His friends began calling @THEwillieCS15 “Trill,” which fit him so well he made it his legal middle name.

Who’s the toughest player you’ve ever had to guard?

Steven Adams … and DeMarcus Cousins is pretty tough, because he’s a big-ass guard. That’s really it. Everybody else is pretty fun to guard.

What’s the most important thing you learned from playing with Cousins?

Just game intensity. Bringing it every night. He’s one of the most consistent dudes I’ve ever watched play the game, especially how he plays it. It’s incredible to me. I learned a lot of stuff not really talking to him but watching him, and watching how he operates off the court. I thought it was really cool how much time he actually spends in the community. I think the media gives him a bad rep … but he does a lot of good s—.

What will you always be a champion of?

Being 100. Being real. Being authentic. Spreading good vibes and love all the time.

‘The Quad’ recap, season 2, episode 2: Has Eva Fletcher finally cracked under pressure? Half of GAMU is sick; the school is in debt and Eva Fletcher can’t escape her past demons

Season 2, episode 2: The Quad — The Interruption of Everything

We find Noni Williams outside of Cecil Diamond’s home, begging for him to let her back in the band the best way she knows how — through music. Williams is playing her heart out to attract her former mentor’s attention, but Diamond brushes right past her, gets in his car and blasts a tune of his own: Back Stabbers by The O’Jays. Touché, Cecil Diamond. Touché.

Back on campus, there’s a serious board meeting discussing the future of Georgia A&M University. Financial woes seem to increase for Eva Fletcher each week. Besides not being able to support the school, there’s the ghost of Terrence Berry quite literally haunting her. Fletcher finds herself with recurring nightmares of Berry following her around and demanding his family be paid settlement money owed from his death. Money is tight, and board members suggest asking Berry’s family for an extension while they sort through financial issues. It sets Fletcher off, and it’s the first time the audience (and board members) catch a glimpse of how deeply the Berry incident is affecting Fletcher.

Academically, the school seems to be on track with professors who actually care about their students — so much so that tough love is not being spared. Football player Junior (Miles Stroter) has learned the hard way after being kicked off of the team by head coach Eugene Hardwick due to poor grades. Feeling as if football is all he has, Junior looks to dean Carlton Pettiway (E. Roger Mitchell) for guidance, which eventually leads him back to the classroom of Ella Grace Caldwell (Jasmine Guy). After being asked if he could retake his final, Caldwell, in her caring yet no-nonsense fashion, delivers some sage advice to Junior that we should all be reminded of from time to time: “Start expecting a chance … Get ready, and stay ready.”

As Fletcher battles her personal demons, her daughter Sydney seems to be pushing past her own problems. During class, Sydney tells best friend Madison Kelly that she’s looking forward to hanging with Myles, her latest love interest. Kelly is happy that Sydney has moved on, but questions whether it’s too soon. Before their conversation could continue, class begins. Upon hearing there’s a quiz, Kelly tries to make a quick escape to the restroom after falling ill. Caldwell doesn’t buy that excuse, but quickly wishes she had as Kelly hurls into a wastebasket and onto Caldwell’s pumps.

Sydney helps her friend, but also questions what appears to be morning sickness. Possible pregnancy? Couldn’t be. Or could it?

Before viewers could finish pondering whether Kelly’s ex-boyfriend left her with a little more than heartbreak, the next scene takes us to the campus clinic filled with sick students. They can’t all be pregnant. We discover that it’s a norovirus, a severe (and contagious) stomach flu that causes vomiting, diarrhea and stomach pain. The virus seemingly swept the campus overnight, transforming healthy students into walking zombies. Flushed, dehydrated faces line the campus clinic and dorm halls. Fletcher, who sees Sydney at the clinic, requests that she go home until the bug is taken care of. The campus would need to be quarantined.

In the dorms, a familiar face is back! Ebonie Weaver (Erica Michelle) and best friend Cedric Hobbs are reunited and doing what they do best — rapping. Meanwhile, on the other side of campus, Fletcher is in over her head. The virus was possibly caused by malfunctioning freezers, which caused temperatures to drop and thaw the food. The old freezers would need to be replaced, but Fletcher knows the school can’t afford the $100,000 for new ones. The situation became so dire, a student was hospitalized after fainting. Not wanting to risk more bad publicity, Fletcher plans to ask Berry’s family for an extension.

And of course, that went about as great as, well, not great at all.

Berry’s mother still believes her son’s suicide is Sydney’s fault. Fletcher explodes and rips the bandages off of healing wounds by saying Berry raped Sydney. He should be the one apologizing from a jail cell. Fletcher’s emotions are raw, the nightmares continue, and it looks like she has finally reached her breaking point.

Off campus, Sydney is finally getting her groove back, and is excited about meeting up with love interest, Myles. As they Netflix and chilled, things began to heat up pretty quickly. But Sydney soon learns that she’s not as over her sexual assault as she previously thought. The closer Myles got, the more her suppressed memories of the assault began to resurface. She ended the night by asking Myles to take her home.

As the episode neared its close, Williams is back at Diamond’s house with the same approach, but a different tune. This time, Diamond opens his door to address the former band member. Williams explains why she turned the original music over to rival band director Clive Taylor, and — once again — apologizes for her actions. Stern, yet a bit more forgiving, Diamond informs Williams that he’ll think about letting her back in. After all, Diamond just found out that his cancer is in remission. If he can get a second chance at life, then maybe he can give Williams a second chance in the band.

A good guess is that Diamond may use Williams to turn the tables on Taylor. Something tells me this won’t be the last we see of this dangerous yet dynamic duo.

John Wall: A letter to my dad The Wizards All-Star opens up about living his dreams and honoring his father’s memory

Dear Dad,

We all go through life hoping and wishing for many things. Many of my wishes have mostly come true, with a successful career that has allowed me to take care of my family.

But there’s one wish of mine that will never be granted. That wish would be bringing you back to life so that you could see me play in the NBA.

You never got the chance to see me play basketball at any level. In fact, we never had a chance to play catch like fathers and sons do, and you were barely around when I took my first steps.

That’s what happens when a parent goes to prison. You went there when I was 2, charged with an armed robbery that I didn’t even know about until years later.

You were an inmate for most of my life. But that didn’t matter because you were my father, and to me as a young boy, prison was just a place where you happened to live.

We’d make the two-hour drive every weekend to see you, sometimes rolling two cars deep. Some of the things I got used to in my early years were getting patted down and thoroughly checked by prison guards and walking down long prison corridors with the sounds of those prison gates opening and closing.

Then I’d see you, and the trip was worth it. In the early visits, we’d be separated by a piece of thick glass, and I still remember the excitement I felt when the prison guards escorted you to the seat in front of us.

Later we were allowed to sit at an actual table with you. And I couldn’t wait for those guards to take those shackles off of you so I could jump into your arms and feel your tight embrace.

Those hugs you gave me were amazing.

When I become a father, I’m going to share your story. Not going to sugarcoat anything. I’ll let my kids know that every generation can be better and that I’m living proof.

Our discussions were never about where you came from, but the places you wanted me to go. Looking back, there you were, an inmate locked away with not much of a future. But that didn’t keep you from encouraging me, a young boy, to get an education and to go to college.

Most importantly, you instilled in me the importance of being a real man. You told me to put myself in a position to one day take care of my mother, something you were unable to do while being locked away.

Then one day you were released, and I could sense you were just as excited as I was when we packed up the car for a family getaway to White Lake, a popular North Carolina resort.

We got a cabin there for a few days, and got a chance to spend time with you for the first time with no restrictions. We went to the fair and we ate, had an artist draw a picture of us, and we played in the water.

That true family gathering was the best day of my young life.

And led to the worst day of my life.

The next day, Dad, you got sick, and I was beginning to learn that you were released because you were terminally ill with liver cancer. We had no clue that the time we spent playing in the water would lead to water getting into your wound, causing you to hemorrhage. That horrific smell from all that bleeding still sticks with me.

As you were rushed to the hospital, me and my siblings were rushed home.

It was at home days later when I overheard a phone conversation that my mother was having with her sister. I heard her say that you had died, and I went into shock. I ran right past her, out the door and down the street with no shirt and no socks. I cried so hard, because hearing you had died is more pain than any 9-year-old should experience.

At your funeral, my older brother was emotional, and promised everyone that he’d take care of the family.

But the next year he got locked up.

All those events sent my life into a downward spiral. I would talk back to my teachers, respond to taunts from kids by fighting, and I disappointed my mother each time I got kicked out of school.

Yes, the man in my life might have existed in prison. But now he was gone, and I was acting out.

Even as I got so good in basketball that people thought it could eventually be my ticket to a better life, I rebelled. When coaches tried to discipline me, I’d pout. I’d get furious my teammates wouldn’t pass to me, or the times when I was taken out of games.

How bad did it get? There were times at Garner High School, where I went in the ninth and 10th grades, when the coach wouldn’t play me. And I’d sit on the end of the bench with my legs crossed, eating a lollipop.

A lollipop. Sometimes I’d eat Skittles. Other times Starburst. I’d eat whatever candy my friends in the stands would give me. When my team called timeout, I wouldn’t even get up to go to the huddle. My attitude was if they weren’t going to play me, why bother.

I lived up to my nickname: Crazy J. And, honestly, I couldn’t have coached me.

When I got cut from my next high school — and it wasn’t because of my skills — I was hurt. My mother was devastated.

Yet at some point after that low moment for me in basketball, everything started to click.

I credit some of the men in my life. The coaches who stuck with me, even though I was a handful to deal with. The teachers and school administrators who believed in me. And my stepdad, a man I didn’t embrace at first but is someone who I would do anything for today because of what he did for my family.

With everyone rallying behind me, I became the best high school player in the nation and had a successful college career that led me to be the top pick of the NBA draft.

And, Dad, you were a part of that success and I want to thank you.

We never had the opportunity to really interact the way a father and son should. But we made the best of the time we spent in prison, forming a bond that is truly unforgettable.

I know you’re proud of the man I’ve become. I’m the first in our family to attend college, and although I have not yet completed my degree, it is a goal that I hope to accomplish. My sister followed behind to become the first in our family to graduate from college and went on to get her master’s.

I’ve taken care of my mom, and taken care of the family just like you told me.

It’s the Wall way.

When I become a father, I’m going to share your story. Not going to sugarcoat anything. I’ll let my kids know that every generation can be better and that I’m living proof. Just like you pushed me, I’ll push them to believe that they can become anything in life, like doctors, teachers, nurses or executives.

My wish of having you see me play will never come true. But just know, Dad, that there’s a reason why I have this tattoo over the left part of my chest of you holding me.

You will always be in my heart. Thank you for inspiring me.

This story appears in ESPN The Magazine’s Feb. 5 State of the Black Athlete Issue. Subscribe today!

New documentary shows us that Lorraine Hansberry of ‘A Raisin in the Sun’ was one tough-minded woman ‘Sighted Eyes/Feeling Heart’ portrays a ‘left-wing radical’ who spoke truth to power

Here’s a phrase I bet you thought you’d never read: Be prepared to fangirl over Lorraine Hansberry.

Told ya.

Friday at 9 p.m., PBS is airing Sighted Eyes/Feeling Heart, a documentary on Hansberry, whose life story has been collapsed into a criminally incomplete Black History Month tidbit. She wrote A Raisin in the Sun, and then Sidney Poitier and Ruby Dee starred in the movie adaptation. At some point you watched it in middle school one February and didn’t pay much attention because it was in black and white. Or someone in your class cracked a joke about Poitier always being ashy.

But Hansberry was so much more. As Dee says in an interview in Sighted Eyes, “She seemed to know something about everything. She was a profound thinker.”

Thank goodness for director Tracy Heather Strain, who committed years to research and gathering the funds and archival footage necessary to make Sighted Eyes. The film transforms the memory of Hansberry from that polite woman who wrote one really important play to, as Hansberry’s friend Douglas Turner Ward deemed her, a “left-wing radical.”

I first saw Sighted Eyes at the Toronto International Film Festival last year, and about 20 minutes into it I scribbled in my notebook, “I think I love this woman.”

Hansberry had a wit that would have fit perfectly in today’s times, examining the traps of respectability politics and sending them up. Toward the end of her life, she bought a bucolic compound in a predominantly white area of upstate New York and winkingly named it Chitterling Heights. It was a nod, I think, to the efforts of her father to integrate Chicago’s then-white neighborhood of Woodlawn when she was 7. One of the formative experiences in Hansberry’s life was when a crowd gathered outside the Hansberry house in Woodlawn and someone threw a piece of mortar through their front window that just missed her head. What better way to throw a middle finger to white supremacy than to move into a neighborhood and give your house the blackest name you could think of?

Lorraine Hansberry surrounded by clapping African-American teens at Camp Minisink in upstate New York.

Courtesy of Gin Briggs/Lorraine Hansberry Properties Trust

Let’s not disregard the significance of A Raisin in the Sun. Hansberry crafted a play in 1959 about a family living on the South Side of Chicago that dared to show black people as, well, people and not buffoons, and she wrote it by drawing from her own experiences. But Hansberry was also a fearless agitator for civil rights, a feminist inspired by Simone de Beauvoir’s The Second Sex, which she said “might very well be the most important work of this century,” a nervy woman who had mapped out a plan for her life by the age of 23 and miraculously stuck to it. She was privately queer and unapologetically black, and undoubtedly someone who would have transformed American culture even more had she lived past the age of 34 (she died of pancreatic cancer). Hansberry married Robert Nemiroff, a producer and champion of her work, in 1953. He left his white wife to be with her, and he was so devoted to her and in awe of her that even though they divorced in 1962, Nemiroff publicly served as Hansberry’s beard for many years.

Hansberry began her writing career as a journalist for the black newspaper Freedom, which was founded by Paul Robeson. She began writing about racism, sexism, poverty and imperialism, which caught the negative attention of one J. Edgar Hoover. Even as civil rights agitators were being identified and surveilled by the FBI, they persisted in their work, and Hansberry was one of them.

She bought a bucolic compound in a predominantly white area of upstate New York and winkingly named it Chitterling Heights.

Lorraine Hansberry holds hands and sings with singer Nina Simone and other activists at a pre-benefit gathering for the Student NonViolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) in June 1963 in the home of activist/singer/actor Theodore Bikel.

Courtesy of Lorraine Hansberry Properties Trust

A group of black activists and artists assembled by James Baldwin to meet with Attorney General Bobby Kennedy included Hansberry, Harry Belafonte and Lena Horne. The May 1963 meeting was meant to pressure the Kennedy administration on civil rights or, at the very least, gain its sympathy.

Baldwin wrote about how frustrating the meeting was because rather than listen to what black Americans were enduring, particularly in the South, Kennedy became defensive, insisting that the Justice Department supported the civil rights movement. There was an undercurrent to his words intimating that those gathered who did not agree with him were ungrateful for the administration’s (frankly, rather meager) efforts.

Jerome Smith, a CORE activist who had been attacked and thrown in jail for protesting in Mississippi, bitterly recounted his experiences and refused to dress them up for the attorney general. He decried the Justice Department’s lack of action as activists were being beaten, arrested or worse.

“Mr. Kennedy, I want you to understand I don’t care anything about you and your brother,” Smith said. “I don’t know what I’m doing here, listening to all this cocktail party patter.”

Hansberry also refused to cower before the face of the American government. She didn’t worry about alienating what the group hoped could be its most powerful ally. Instead, Sighted Eyes recounts, she, too, gave Kennedy a piece of her mind.

“You’ve got a great many very, very accomplished people in this room, Mr. Attorney General,” Hansberry told Kennedy. “But the only man who should be listened to is that man over there,” she said, referring to Smith.

“I don’t know what I’m doing here, listening to all this cocktail party patter.”

Sighted Eyes is part of a trifecta of recent documentaries that have given us colorful new insights into the lives of those we often see in black and white. With What Happened, Miss Simone? and I Am Not Your Negro, about Baldwin, directors Raoul Peck and Liz Garbus produced chapters of an anthology about black intellectuals and artists who were contemporaries and friends. These directors give us insight into how the lives of Hansberry, Baldwin and Simone bled into each other, how their friendships provided solace and comfort to each other, how they lived as members of a community and not just as singular figures. They come alive.

Hansberry’s experiences, often told in her own words, come to life in Sighted Eyes thanks to voiceover from actress Anika Noni Rose reading from Hansberry’s journals and other archival material.

Strain, an experienced documentary filmmaker (I’ll Make Me a World, Race: The Power of an Illusion) and professor at Northeastern University became interested in Hansberry after seeing a community theater production of Hansberry’s play To Be Young, Gifted and Black in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. The play, assembled from Hansberry’s own words after her death, shares its name with the Nina Simone song, which Hansberry inspired Simone to write.

With Sighted Eyes/Feeling Heart, Strain has created a portrait of Hansberry that’s as complete and well-rounded as the portrait of black family life that Hansberry captured in A Raisin in the Sun. In doing so, she’s transformed Hansberry from more than just a pretty young playwright who died tragically young. She’s rightfully preserved her place in American history.

Reggie ‘Combat Jack’ Ossé dies at 48 The hip-hop podcaster and attorney succumbs to colon cancer

When Reggie Ossé, immortalized in hip-hop culture as “Combat Jack,” announced via Twitter a week before Halloween that he had colon cancer, I knew. I think we all did.

Jack’s soliloquy ultimately was one of his final intimate moments with a culture now so different without his physical presence. It was his way of fighting while simultaneously coming to grips with what we’ll all encounter one day — our own mortality.

My uncle had colon cancer. He died Jan. 2, 1999. His death, in so many ways, is why my winter holidays can never again be truly festive. His last conversation with me, when I was 12, was in a Richmond, Virginia, hospital. “Treat people with respect and watch the universe pay you back in ways you could never imagine. I’m not scared. I’ve passed that point. I’ve lived my purpose.” I can only imagine Ossé having similar feelings.

Jack, I’d imagine, wasn’t scared in his final hours — the product of being a Brooklyn, New York, native. His thoughts were more than likely with his family, his children in particular. Above anything he meant to the culture, nothing mattered more to him than being a father. Jack being gone at 48 has yet to totally sink in. The wound is fresh and still bleeding. These days, to hear people claim they’re “doing it for the culture” is banal. But with Jack, it was authentic. An attorney who in the mid-’90s represented Jay-Z, Dame Dash, Capone-N-Noreaga and others, he also served as the managing editor of The Source. To many, though, especially within the past decade, he’s been the man who helped revolutionize podcasts and hip-hop’s role within them.

The linchpin of the Ossé’s Loud Speakers Network, and co-hosted by the likes of Dallas Penn, Premium Pete and Just Blaze, The Combat Jack Show podcast was more life lessons than mere interviews. They were glimpses into the minds of culture-shifters, narrated by the culture-shifters themselves. With his beautifully produced Mogul: The Life & Death of Chris Lighty, Ossé brought narrative storytelling to podcast culture. It’s fair to say, too, part of The Combat Jack Show’s DNA resides in many of today’s most successful podcasts and radio shows such as Rap Radar, N.O.R.E.’s Drink Champs and The Breakfast Club. The same can be said of many young journalists/content producers as well — myself included.

The culture that Ossé helped shift, curate and elevate grieves for him. Liquor meets pavement. Smoke fades to air. Tears are shed. Laughs are had. And stories are swapped on social media, on air and in person. All in homage to a man none of us can ever truly repay. You don’t necessarily quantify “influence” by dollars stacked but rather respect given, and shown. Combat Jack was a rich, rich man.

N.C. A&T, Grambling players put rivalry aside to cheer up sick children They spread the message of hope at Hughes Spalding Children’s Hospital in Atlanta

Walking onto the second floor of the Hughes Spalding Children’s Hospital in Atlanta, you could see that the patients were anticipating something wonderful.

The children had a different sparkle in their eyes, almost as if they knew something special was going to happen, and they were right. Four players each from North Carolina A&T and Grambling State came to surprise patients at the hospital Friday morning. The players had a special interest in visiting these sick children because they are in the cancer and blood disorder center because of their diagnosis of sickle cell anemia, a blood disorder that causes red blood cells to become misshapen and break down.

Julius Reynolds, Garrett Nestor, Joshua Patrick and Dominic Frescura from North Carolina A&T joined De’Arius Christmas, Dre’ Fusilier, Ja’Terious Pouncy and Trenton Scott from Grambling State as they all came together to help brighten the day of kids in the downtown Atlanta children’s hospital.

“I think this was great for the kids. It brought the kids a lot of joy,” said Rodteshia Pickett, mother of newborn Shenella Pickett. “We got some signed memorabilia and they provided some great smiles for the children, and everyone seemed to enjoy the football players coming through and showing love.”

Pickett’s daughter was receiving a checkup from the hospital after she was born last Tuesday.

The Picketts were not the only ones receiving love from the athletes from two historically black universities. Many older children were ecstatic when they saw the towering football players walk onto the second floor bearing smiles and gifts.

“Not many football people come out and give out hats and come to the hospital and all that,” said Rodrika Fish, the mother of Marcel Fish and Sheron Fish, who were waiting at the hospital. “This was a great Christmas gift for these kids, and that should really make them smile and make them happy.”

While the eight players spent only about an hour with the patients, Pickett believes the impact the players had on these kids could go a long way in setting a positive precedent for these kids’ futures.

“This sets a great example for the kids and gives them a lot of inspiration; a lot of these kids are going to want to grow up and want to prosper to be something,” Pickett said. “Even if these kids don’t have a lot of money, they are going to want to be doing something to bring some type of light to other kids and give them hope like they were given hope today.”

North Carolina A&T and Grambling players left behind their rivalry over who will become the next historically black college champion. But in eyes of those kids at Hughes Spalding, all of those players are champions.

The top 5 in-your-face moments of Matt Barnes’ 14-year career The explosive forward’s retirement brings the role of NBA ‘bad boy’ close to extinction

The days of the NBA “bad boy” are coming to an end. If you think otherwise, your take on the concept is all wrong. We’re talking about the trash-talking, brawl-beginning, fine-and-suspension-inducing, me-against-the-world mold of player that has flourished in the league for decades. With Matt Barnes’ Instagram-announced retirement (as a player) Monday, only a few are left in the league.

There’s DeMarcus “Boogie” Cousins, Draymond Green and perhaps even LeBron James. But even within this diminishing cohort, physical altercations have been replaced with petty wars of attrition. Instead of meeting toe-to-toe on the hardwood, players throw shade at each other via pregame outfits and custom T-shirts and hats. Players defending themselves via photos or in 280 characters or less — sometimes even under the alias of a dummy account (sorry, Kevin Durant). But don’t get it twisted: This new version of warfare is still entertaining. It’s just different.

On Nov. 28, James did earn his first career ejection since joining the league in 2003, but the outburst only cost him a $4,000 fine — chump change compared with what the league has levied on a player like Matt Barnes. In 14 seasons with nine different teams, Barnes accrued a whopping $414,276 in fines and six games of suspension, according to spotrac.com, which compares with James’ career total of $51,000 in fines and zero games of suspensions over 15 seasons and counting.

With Barnes saying farewell to the game, the NBA has lost a bad boy from a long lineage of audacious NBA players, often traced back to the “Bad Boys” era of the late 1980s/early 1990s, Detroit Pistons teams, featuring Isiah Thomas, Bill Laimbeer, Dennis Rodman, John Salley and Rick Mahorn. The fraternity of infamous hoopers also includes Larry Bird, Charles Barkley, Charles Oakley, Reggie Miller, Vernon Maxwell, Latrell Sprewell, Isaiah Rider, Kevin Garnett, Rasheed Wallace, Kobe Bryant and Metta World Peace, aka the man formerly known as Ron Artest.

Like many of these players, maybe Barnes crossed the line one too many times throughout his career. Or, maybe, he’s just fearless. Here are the top five moments from the now-retired forward’s playing days that embody his bad boy nature while blurring that fine line between craziness and passion for the game.


March 7, 2010 — MATT BARNES vs. KOBE BRYANT

Fine: None

It takes a certain type of man to go at Bryant — and that man has to have a backbone like Barnes. In a March 2010 game between the Orlando Magic and Los Angeles Lakers, less than a year removed from the teams’ matchup in the 2009 NBA Finals, Bryant and Barnes went back and forth all afternoon until their chippy confrontations climaxed in the third quarter, when they came chest-to-chest and the resulting jawing led both players to be whistled for technical fouls. “He’s the man, but s—,” Barnes said of Bryant after the game. “You gotta clean it up or something is gonna happen.” On an inbounds play after the verbal altercation, Barnes faked as if he would throw the ball in Bryant’s face, but the reigning Finals MVP didn’t budge. “I knew he wasn’t going to do s—,” Bryant told reporters after the Lakers’ 96-94 loss. “What would I flinch for?” Barnes came at the Black Mamba, and, technically, he missed. But he came correct, which you gotta respect. (In July 2010, Barnes became a teammate with Bryant after signing as a free agent with the Lakers.)

Dec. 12, 2014 — Matt Barnes vs. the water bottle

Fine: $25,000

In three seasons playing with the Los Angeles Clippers from 2012 to 2015, Barnes received a total of 32 fines, including one for $25,000 after a road matchup with the Washington Wizards in December 2014. After Clippers head coach Doc Rivers pulled his starters with about two minutes remaining in the fourth quarter, essentially conceding the game, Barnes returned the sideline, where he kicked a water bottle into the stands before cursing at the home team’s fans. This is one of four $25,000 fines that the NBA issued to Barnes during his tenure as a Clipper, but spoiler alert: It’s far from the highest fine of his career.

May 6, 2015 — Matt Barnes vs. Monja Willis, aka James Harden’s mom

Fine: $52,000 ($50,000 for remark to Monja Willis, $2,000 for technical foul)

OK, sometimes Matt Barnes’ went wayyyyy too far with the trash talk. In the first quarter of Game 2 of the 2015 Western Conference semifinals between the Houston Rockets and Los Angeles Clippers, James Harden received a hard foul from Barnes, his primary defender. As Harden walked to the free throw line, Barnes intentionally bumped into him, which led a referee to whistle him for a technical foul. The play resulted in a rain of negative chants from Houston fans directed toward Barnes, who responded by reportedly yelling, “Suck my d—, b—-!” to the crowd. On the receiving end of the profane remark was Monja Willis, Harden’s mother, who would later tell TMZ that the Clippers player immediately apologized for the comment. “My older son walked over to him and told him to apologize … and he did,” Willis said. “What he told me was that he would never want to disrespect anyone’s mother because his mother passed from cancer … and that he was sorry. I accept his apology.” Barnes denied making the reported remark, calling it “untrue” and “crazy.” Regardless of what exactly was said, c’mon, Matt. You gotta leave mothers out of it.

March 17, 2016 — Matt barnes vs. John Henson … and the Bucks Locker room

Fine: $32,205 (one-game suspension without pay)

What happens when a referee ejects a player before Barnes has a chance to speak his mind to him? Well, Barnes runs off the court, through the arena’s tunnel and to the opposing team’s locker room, of course. That’s exactly what happened during a March 2016 game between the Memphis Grizzlies and Milwaukee Bucks, when John Henson received his second technical foul of the night and an immediate ejection after the big man’s vicious block on Barnes, who also received a technical foul for his part in the ensuing verbal altercation. Technically, Barnes wasn’t ejected from the game. However, he checked himself out of the contest, left the court to find Henson and reportedly made it all the way to Milwaukee’s locker room before two security guards had to escort him from the arena. The dedication is oddly commendable, but … For his antics, the league slapped Barnes with a huge fine and made him sit out for a game.

Jan. 17, 2016 — Matt Barnes vs. Derek Fisher

Fine: $35,000 (two-game suspension without pay)

“Knicks coach Derek Fisher was attacked in Los Angeles by NBA bad boy Matt Barnes, who drove 95 miles to ‘beat the s–t out of him’ when he found out Fisher was romancing his estranged wife,” reads the opening line of an October 2015 story from the New York Post. The NBA didn’t take action on the matter involving Barnes, Fisher and Gloria Govan until December, when the league suspended the then-Memphis Grizzlies forward for two games without pay. Yet, leading up to a January matchup between Memphis and New York — the first encounter between the player and coach, who were former teammates with the Lakers — Barnes spoke negatively about Fisher, including calling him a “snitch” and saying he doesn’t “talk to snakes.” The negative comments resulted in a $35,000 fine from the league for “condoning violence.” A month later, Barnes’ reputation made it all the way to hip-hop: I just be like, it was my idea to have an open relationship / Now a n—a mad / Now I’m ’bout to drive 90 miles like Matt Barnes to kill … / 30 hours, Kanye West raps on his track “30 hours” from The Life of Pablo. A shout-out like that certainly meant his legacy as an NBA bad boy had been cemented.

Robin Roberts reports on importance of early detection for black women with breast cancer The ‘Good Morning America’ anchor and cancer survivor teamed up with WebMD to tell stories of survival

In 2007, Good Morning America anchor Robin Roberts conducted a self-exam of her breast after reporting on a friend who had died of cancer.

“It all started a few weeks ago,” she wrote in an email that was shared with the world. “We had gotten the news that our dear colleague and friend Joel Siegel had passed away and we began preparing for our special tribute show for him. I did a piece about Joel’s courageous battle with cancer, reporting on the way my friend had lived his life and been such a successful advocate for the importance of early cancer screenings.”

She found a lump.

Roberts had a biopsy, then surgery, and by January 2008 she’d gone through eight chemotherapy treatments and six weeks of radiation. She later learned she had myelodysplastic syndrome, which is “a disease of the blood and bone marrow and was once known as preleukemia,” Roberts said in a new message posted on the ABC News website.

In 2012, she received a bone marrow transplant from her sister.

Now she has teamed up with the online human health and wellness publication WebMD to help tell stories of early detection, support and bravery. Advanced Breast Cancer: Courage, Comfort and Care with Robin Roberts, a five-part video series, was released in August. The series tells the stories of women with advanced breast cancer, “plus the families and friends who provide encouragement and support, and includes insights from medical experts leading the charge to combat the disease,” WebMD announced.

In one episode, Roberts looks at the effects of breast cancer in the African-American community and promotes the benefits of early detection.

She introduces Felicia Johnson, a Philadelphia woman and two-time cancer survivor who said the disease also attacked her maternal grandmother, her sister and her first cousin. Including Johnson, 11 women over three generations in her family have been diagnosed with cancer.

“It seems like our list just goes on and on,” Johnson says in the episode.

“Felicia’s connection to breast cancer is not unusual,” Roberts reports. “Death rates from breast cancer are higher in the African-American community, and research shows that African-American women are now being diagnosed with breast cancer more frequently.”

Roberts also introduces Lisa Newman, a surgical oncologist and director of the Breast Oncology Program for the Henry Ford Health System in Detroit. Newman says many black women are not getting preventive treatment, so she spends a lot of her time advocating for early detection.

“Every opportunity to get the message out to African-American women regarding breast cancer screening and early detection is critical,” Newman says.

“We completed several series for WebMD on a variety of health subjects, but this series represented a chance for us to take a deep look at the many facets of breast cancer treatment and survivorship,” Roberts told Essence in August.

“From personal experience with the disease, I know there’s a lot of fear associated with breast cancer, especially when a patient is first diagnosed and when the disease has already reached an advanced stage — I also felt the series could help people learn how to better cope with the fear and anxiety, and offer them hope for their future.”

Many minorities still don’t participate in clinical trials, but changing the narrative can save lives Researchers and patients can join forces to change the perception and the numbers

ESPN’s 2017 V Week runs through Dec. 8. During the fundraiser for cancer research, The Undefeated is telling stories about early detection, clinical trial studies and research in minority communities. ESPN hopes to raise funds and awareness about the important cause championed by our friend, coach Jim Valvano. One hundred percent of all cash donations go directly to cancer research. Donate here today.


Fact: According to the U.S. Food and Drug Administration, African-Americans make up about 5 percent of clinical trial participants and Latino Americans constitute 1 percent. As a result, treatments become biased toward whites’ reaction to drugs.

African-Americans are diagnosed with more advanced cancer, and death rates are higher. One way to help combat the issue is to have more people of color participate in clinical trials. But overcoming historical stigma is a big deal for minority populations and is likely one of the most common factors driving the low participation numbers.

For the black community, the clinical trials are reminders of the often negative intersection of ethics, race and medicine that has led to distrust. It is rooted in a history of exploitation of, and experimentation on, African-Americans that ranges from the Tuskegee Syphilis Study to a 19th-century doctor experimenting with gynecological treatments on enslaved women without anesthetics.

No one wants to feel like a big experiment, especially when they’re already sick and trying to fight a disease such as cancer, even if the medical research can lead to better outcomes.

Now more than ever, with the high death rates among black men and women, it’s time to change the narrative. Here are some ways to get the ball rolling:

First, clinicians can go into minority communities and contact community leaders, especially those who may have knowledge of clinical trials. They do exist. Many are even cancer survivors. They can also partner with churches and other agencies in the community, whose opinions are valued.

Next, clinicians can work on a plan to help minority communities gain trust in the health care system. Meanwhile, patients can search for a physician who can be trusted, one who is willing to explain the health care system to them. Another way is to garner the expertise of a health coach, an occupation that’s on the rise in many communities. Health coaches are trained to act as hands-on liaisons between patients and their plan of care. They are found to be more engaged with patients and can often build the trust and compassion between patients and doctors.

Finally, clinicians can lean on public relations professionals to increase communications between them and the community. Clinical trial enrollment barriers include the lack of proper access to health information services, socioeconomic patterns, social perceptions, time spent on travel to office visits and clinics, health literacy and drug side effects (there are many clinical trials that do not involve drug treatments at all). Clinicians and researchers could use help from trained professionals with disseminating studies into cancer communities, especially in communities of color. Cancer research terminology is often not translated for the lay public’s consumption, which is an immediate turnoff for even the most educated. Communication efforts to the public seem distant. Many patients have even expressed that researchers and clinicians should consider eliminating the term “clinical trials” altogether and use wording that is more patient-friendly and not pegged to a history of traumatic events.

In a 2014 article, Janet Stemwedel, associate professor of philosophy at San Jose State University, who studies ethics and scientific processes, was asked what steps have been taken by clinicians to dispel concerns of minority populations and she replied, “I can’t think of any positive trust-earning step that was taken, off the top of my head.”

Despite the low efforts, or those that haven’t properly traveled from the peer base to the community base, dollars from places such as the Stuart Scott Memorial Cancer Research Fund, formed by The V Foundation and family members representing Stuart Scott, have pitched in to help. This fund is dedicated to help minority researchers fight cancer in minority communities. It continues to advance Scott’s fight against cancer and assist some of the most vulnerable and disproportionately affected communities battling the disease.

Scott himself participated in a clinical trial study. He believed attitudes, beliefs and perceptions can change the thought pattern.

“Our father got seven years after he was diagnosed with cancer, and that is seven years we may not have had,” his oldest daughter, Taelor Scott, told The Undefeated.

Dr. Edward Kim, a lung cancer expert clinician, chairman of Solid Tumor Oncology and Investigational Therapeutics at Levine Cancer Institute in Charlotte, North Carolina, and a recipient of the Stuart Scott Memorial Cancer Research Fund, conducts a clinical trial on blood markers dealing with lung cancer.

“I think it’s still something that health care professionals, different support groups and education need to occur so that folks can understand what the opportunities are, and what’s the benefit for them,” he said. “I’m not saying that everybody should be on clinical trials, and every clinical trial can be a little different, but it is a way where we make progress. We can’t get a new drug unless we have a clinical trial. That’s what leads us to the next study, and the next study. I’m a strong advocate for people to be on clinical trials. I feel like we need more clinical trials out there. You find the right biomarker and identify the patient that’s going to benefit, that drug works really well.”

There are organizations that host clinical trial outreach campaigns and programs such as the federal Department of Health and Human Services’ Office of Minority Health, which can be a great resource for patients.

It’s Cancer Screen Week, and getting tested could help save your life Five reasons early detection is important

ESPN’s 2017 V Week runs through Dec. 8. During the fundraiser for cancer research, The Undefeated is telling stories about early detection, clinical trial studies and research in minority communities. ESPN hopes to raise funds and awareness about the important cause championed by our friend, coach Jim Valvano. One hundred percent of all cash donations go directly to cancer research. Donate here today.


Besides V Week, it’s also Cancer Screen Week. According to the World Health Organization, 8.8 million people die from cancer worldwide and African-Americans have a higher death rate than other groups.

Over the past three years there have been more and more studies questioning whether early detection and cancer screenings actually save lives. But don’t tell that to the millions of survivors who got their cancer diagnosis early and are sharing their stories.

For instance, NFL wife and Greenville, South Carolina, native Niya Brown Matthews is a two-time cancer survivor who received her first diagnosis of stage 2 cancer in her left breast when she was just 27.

Matthews said she had no symptoms. She completed a breast self-examination in the shower and felt a knot under her arm. She underwent a lumpectomy and endured several rounds of radiation.

“When it came back in the second breast, I opted to get that one cut off and just rebuild,” Matthews said.

Now cancer-free, she is a cheerleader for early detection.

According to the National Cancer Institute, in 2016 an estimated 1,685,210 new cases of cancer were expected to be diagnosed in the United States and 595,690 people would die from the disease.

Despite the debate over cancer screenings, here are five reasons that they are important, especially in communities of color.

Early detection can help get an early start on fighting cancer.

Screening tests can help determine whether and when a treatment works best. It also determines specific precursors of genes or family history and in its early stages can reduce death rates.

Early detection may extend your life expectancy.

Early detection may mean remission for many, but it can also mean more years with your loved ones. Screenings can place you on a path to a proper treatment plan, which can extend longevity.

You can beat cancer.

Screening tests can find precancerous cells that can be removed before they turn into cancer. Cancers of the colon, rectum and cervix can be prevented through screening and can oftentimes detect cancer before symptoms appear.

Screening can prompt patients to lead a healthy lifestyle.

Some early detection includes conversations regarding family history, which can lead to testing for genes that may determine whether you are at risk for specific cancers. Knowing your risk factors can spark a healthy lifestyle that may help combat certain precursors.

Screening can cut down on health care costs.

Early detection can also cut the cost of treatment. In 2010, the total annual economic cost of cancer through health care expenditure and loss of productivity was $1.16 trillion. According to WHO, studies have shown that treatment for early diagnoses are less expensive than treating patients at advanced stages.