Jordan Peele’s ‘Us’ has a message for those who can hear above the screams Lupita Nyong’o is the two-faced queen come to warn us of what happens when we keep our own brethren out of sight and out of mind

This essay includes spoilers.

After seeing Jordan Peele’s new horror film, Us, I wondered if the director had created it as a warning to himself to resist the siren comforts of wealth, fame and his own id after the smashing reception he received for last year’s Get Out. Forget the voiceless and pay the price, Us seems to be croaking at its audience.

Allow me to explain: Us is about a middle-class black family, the Wilsons, who go on vacation to California only to find themselves at the center of a revenge plot 30 years in the making. The father, Gabe (Winston Duke), is a big, corny teddy bear of a man who is overcome by an almost pathological need to keep up with the family frenemies, the Tylers. The Tylers, who are white, have a nicer car, a bigger boat and a more modern, better-equipped vacation house. Gabe, much to the chagrin of his wife, Adelaide (Lupita Nyong’o), wants to go to the beach to hang out with Josh Tyler (Tim Heidecker) and compare boat notes. Adelaide wants to stay home and read instead of making small talk while Kitty Tyler (Elisabeth Moss) sips her mommy juice. It turns out Adelaide’s nervousness is about way more than hanging out with a bickering white couple and their bratty twin daughters.

The Wilsons are soon visited by a family that is a twisted mirror of their own: a husband, a wife and two children, all clad in red jumpsuits and tan leather driving gloves on their right hands. Each of them is equipped with sharp brass shears that are useful for stabbing people and cutting the heads off of rabbits.

It turns out everyone, including the Tylers, have these red-clad doppelgängers, who refer to themselves as “shadows.” The shadows live underground, tethered to the whims of their sun-basking counterparts. They are a permaclass of the unseen, unheard and unacknowledged, and none of them has the ability to speak — except Red, who communicates with a creaking, disturbed hollowness, as if an animal had chewed halfway through her vocal cords. When Adelaide enjoys a Christmas of gifts, merriment and a hearty dinner, her shadow is forced to dine on raw rabbit. When Adelaide gets married, has sex and gives birth to two children, so too does Red. The shadows are crude copies of humans who experience pain, torture, madness and imprisonment from all the things that give their doubles pleasure.

Sick of their fate, the shadows emerge to conduct a massive, blood-soaked untethering. There are harbingers of disaster everywhere in the film that all point to the same Bible verse, Jeremiah 11:11: “Therefore thus saith the Lord, Behold, I will bring evil upon them, which they shall not be able to escape; and though they shall cry unto me, I will not hearken unto them.”

Lupita Nyong’o as Adelaide Wilson in Us, written, produced and directed by Jordan Peele.

Claudette Barius/Universal Pictures

Us is a jagged allegory for the pitfalls of capitalism and the resentment that mounts when we pretend those whose labor we exploit for our happiness do not exist. As social commentary, it’s not as razor-sharp as Get Out. But it still feels like an exceptional accomplishment, mainly because Peele created a role that is a worthy showcase of Nyong’o’s talent. In Us, Nyong’o is the unforgettable two-faced queen come to warn us of what will happen when we keep our own brethren out of sight and out of mind. She makes Red’s movements just as studied, precise and creepy as her voice. It is a virtuosic performance and wickedly fun. You get the sense that Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?-era Bette Davis would hate Nyong’o if she were her awards season competition, before perhaps warming to her with grudging respect.

Peele has been explicit that Us is not a film about race, and yet it pulls off something that feels transcendent, both because of the unstudied blackness of its cast and because of Peele’s commitment to smartening up a genre typically defined by gore, monsters, cheap scares, or all of the above. In the history of the Oscars, only six horror films (The Exorcist, Jaws, Black Swan, The Silence of the Lambs, The Sixth Sense and Get Out) have been nominated for best picture.

In both Get Out and Us, Peele builds on a tradition of black horror as social commentary and pushback against white stereotypes of blackness that extends as far back as Duane Jones’ turn as Ben in Night of the Living Dead (1968). Ben, who is actually the hero of the film, ends up getting shot and tossed on a funeral pyre when white rescuers assume he’s an enemy. This, after he’s spent the movie saving a bunch of white people from marauding ghouls looking to eat live flesh.

Peele delights in playing with tropes and subverting them. In Get Out, the black protagonist actually gets to live. In Us, the white family is deemed inessential to the plot and gets offed by the second act. In Us, the clue to Adelaide’s status as a misfit lay in her inability to snap on beat to a rapper’s ode to the communal consumption of a dimebag. Later in the movie, that same song gets reinvented with heavy, spooky, sonorous strings, courtesy of composer Michael Abels, who also scored Get Out. He simultaneously celebrates the genre and critiques it. Peele offers something for everyone: winks and Easter eggs for fanboys who consume movies as though they’re video games to be figured out, highbrow allegory for those who need more than an imaginary monster to keep them up at night, and now a fantastically twisted antihero played by an Academy Award-winning queen.

Furthermore, he broadens appreciation for the genre. Peele managed to get Oprah Winfrey (who is on record as someone who avoids scary movies) and plenty of others who are horror-averse to not only sit through Get Out but marvel at it and then see it again. He’ll likely accomplish something similar with Us. Both are too zeitgeisty to miss.

In the context of horror history, in which films such as King Kong, The Spider and The Creature from the Black Lagoon used monsters as stand-ins for black people, Peele’s success feels like a multilayered triumph. It wasn’t that long ago that a thoughtful horror film by a black director was pooh-poohed by studio executives for being too ambitious. When Bill Gunn released Ganja & Hess in 1973, in which the need for blood functioned as a metaphor for drug addiction, it was a hit at the Cannes Film Festival. But American film executives were so turned off that it was recut and released as the hackneyed Blood Couple. If you wanted to see Ganja & Hess, it was nearly impossible. The Museum of Modern Art possesses the print.

Almost 50 years later, Peele is getting the recognition that bypassed directors such as Gunn, and he is slashing his own path through Hollywood with remakes of The Twilight Zone and Candyman. He’s said repeatedly that Us is about how we are our own worst enemies. Maybe Peele is also thinking about how to avoid becoming his.

Madison Curry as young Adelaide in Us, written, produced and directed by Jordan Peele.

Claudette Barius/Universal Pictures

Kings guard De’Aaron Fox honors mother with Breast Cancer Awareness event Women and their families will head to clinic at Golden 1 Center on Mother’s Day weekend to learn about breast cancer, treatment and basketball

Lorraine Harris-Fox felt a lump in her breast one day. After monitoring the lump for a week, she had it checked out. A biopsy showed it was cancerous.

Harris-Fox was diagnosed with breast cancer in March 2000. Three years earlier, her sister had died from breast cancer, leaving a 5-year-old son. Harris-Fox and her husband, Aaron, adopted her nephew, and when she found out she had cancer, their son, De’Aaron Fox, was 2 years old.

“My first initial thoughts when I was diagnosed was that, ‘I have to do everything I can to fight this because my nephew has already lost one mom from this battle,’ ” Harris-Fox said. “The initial feeling was fear, when you get the call from your doctor confirming that you have breast cancer. For me, it was fear and scared and crying and then a couple of minutes after that was when I started the process of what do I do next. Cause I gotta fight so I can be here for these two boys.”

Harris-Fox underwent surgery, four rounds of chemotherapy every three weeks and 40 rounds of radiation. Regular maintenance, blood work and scans followed the initial six-month treatment. She has been cancer-free for the last 18 years.

De’Aaron Fox, the Sacramento Kings point guard, surprised his mother on draft night last June when he wore a suit jacket lined with the Breast Cancer Awareness pink ribbon. It was a show of support for his mother’s fight.

“I didn’t know much about it at a younger age, but as I was growing up – fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh grade – we would always do walks and stuff like that,” Fox said. “That’s kind of how I got in to it, just knowing that she had it … and that my mom fought through that, and seeing all the lives that are lost from breast cancer, made me feel stronger about that.”

Fox and his mother are hosting a Jr. Kings clinic on Saturday at Golden 1 Center in Sacramento, California, to raise breast cancer awareness. Women, many who have overcome breast cancer, and their families will receive basketball lessons during the Mother’s Day weekend event. Activities will end with a kids-versus-moms showdown.

De’Aaron Fox and his mother, Lorraine Harris-Fox.

Courtesy of Sacramento Kings

Harris-Fox is coming from Katy, Texas, and even though she has a fracture in her knee that will sideline her from the game, that wasn’t going to stop her from attending.

Fox, who scored 40 points on Mother’s Day playing AAU basketball in high school, ranks this at the top of what he’s done for his mother. Fox teased that since injured Boston Celtics forward Gordon Hayward was able to shoot basketballs from a chair, he expected Harris-Fox to do something along those lines.

Fox wants everyone to have fun going through drills and for the kids to walk away with a better understanding of what their mothers or loved ones are going through.

“My role is basically another voice saying that, ‘I’m still in the fight. I’m an 18-year survivor,’ ” Harris-Fox said, “and just kind of telling my story so maybe newly diagnosed women see that there is light at the end of the tunnel. Breast cancer does not have to be a death sentence. Early detection is important, and so if you do the early detection and you get your treatment early, you have a 95 percent success rate. Women need to know that.”

Harris-Fox had help from friends and church members, who took her to treatments, assisted around the house or did whatever they could to contribute. Her husband would help with the kids, take her to the hospital and whatever other tasks needed to be handled.

Right around the time Harris-Fox told her son what she had been through, she started hosting pink parties every October besides participating in Susan G. Komen walks. And while she was more than happy to have her son accompany her on the walks, she told him and everyone else in her house to get to steppin’ when she threw the parties for herself and her friends.

“My thing was, ‘This is for me and my friends, so I’m-a need for y’all to find somewhere else to be,’” Harris-Fox said as she laughed. “A couple times when I guess they didn’t have anywhere else to go, they would stay. They would come down and mingle with the party and then go back upstairs and play his video games. This was my time. I need for Dad to find somewhere else to be. I need you children to find somewhere else to be.”

Deon Taylor, professional basketball player turned filmmaker, talks new flick ‘Traffik,’ sports and family ‘I have become who I am today simply because I was told no everywhere I went. I’m the product of no.’

When filmmaker and director Deon Taylor stopped playing professional basketball to pursue film, a lot of doors were slammed in his face.

“I have become who I am today simply because I was told no everywhere I went. I’m the product of no.”

Now he boasts a 15-year independent film career and is releasing his newest film, Traffik, an intense thriller about sex trafficking starring Paula Patton and Omar Epps due to hit theaters on April 20.

Taylor grew up in Indiana and moved to Sacramento, California, where he played high school basketball. He caught the attention of San Diego State in the ’90s, receiving a full scholarship and being named the conference’s Newcomer of the Year. The former Division I basketball player balled professionally in Germany from 1998 to 2003.

“Basketball is life,” Taylor said. “A lot of people say that, but for me, basketball has been a vehicle my entire life. It has taken me all over the world on a professional level.”

He left the game to pursue his film career. Taylor moved to Los Angeles in 2003, pitching a screenplay he’d written on a tablet. The rejection hit hard.

“I was expecting people to love the screenplay …,” Taylor said. “Six years later, after being kicked out of 300 rooms, I eventually said, ‘I guess the only way you can make movies is if you make them yourself.’ And that started my journey for the last 15 years [as an independent filmmaker].”

Inspired to get his films out, the 42-year-old launched Hidden Empire Film Group in Sacramento. His longtime business partner and lead investor in all of his films is Robert F. Smith, the founder of Vista Equity Partners, whom Forbes recently described as “richer than Oprah and the nation’s wealthiest African-American conquering tech and Wall Street.”

“Still, to this day, I’ve never been hired by a studio to make a film, but I’ve had some major success independently and we’re in a place where the films that I’m making are being released in theaters,” Taylor said.

Taylor wrote, directed and produced the thriller Motivated Seller, starring Dennis Quaid, Michael Ealy and Meagan Good. Along with actor and singer Jamie Foxx, he produced the comedy feature All-Star Weekend, starring Foxx, Robert Downey Jr. and Eva Longoria. Taylor is also behind the 2014 drama Supremacy, starring Danny Glover, based on the true story of a white supremacist who kills a black police officer and takes an African-American family hostage, as well as the horror spoof Meet the Blacks, with Mike Epps and George Lopez. The sequel The House Next Door, starring Epps and Katt Williams, comes out later this year.

The Undefeated spoke with Taylor about Traffik, how basketball led him away from the streets and helped him face adversity in filmmaking, why Jesse Owens and Michael Jordan are greatest of all time and why he believes the NCAA should pay college athletes.

How is Traffik different from other thrillers?

I wanted to make a commercial thriller that would have people on the edge of their seats, but also have them learn about something horrific going on in our country: human trafficking. Many people think it’s just an international problem, but it’s happening right here in America too. As a matter of fact, 85 percent of people who are trafficked are inner-city kids, so that’s the Hispanic girl in Oakland or the African-American boy in Chicago; I can keep going. These kids are being taken, and then someone is pimping them out and later another person is taking them, and this tragic cycle continues endlessly. It’s so sad. I think what this movie does extremely well is give you the goose bumps and chills without it being a documentary.

What personal experiences motivated you to create a thriller around human trafficking?

I started getting a bunch of letters about trafficking in our area [Sacramento] and I didn’t really think too much [about] it. But then my daughter, Milan, who is 12, was up late one night playing on her video games. I asked her who she was talking to at 1 a.m. on this game. I pulled up the screen and printed out the conversation [spanning for a couple of days] and saw how this person who she thought was 11 years old had been asking her questions like ‘Where do you live?’ and ‘Do you ever go out late at night?’ To the naked eye, it seemed innocent [like to my daughter], but you could tell this was definitely a predator. It’s crazy because predators are coming from the computer and TV screens now.

How was it working with Paula Patton and Omar Epps on the film?

It was insane for a lot of great reasons. I approached it like basketball. Everyone has a part in order for us to win and be successful. Paula and Omar are our star players, and they gave 100 percent, which further drove the cast and crew. Paula also performed every single one of her stunts. When you see her being yanked from the car, it’s pretty violent. She did that herself. She wasn’t screaming, ‘Cut!’ or yelling, ‘I can’t do this.’ That kind of commitment from an actor is such a blessing.

How did you learn about filmmaking and further want to pursue it?

I never set out to be the next Tyler Perry or Ron Howard in owning my own stuff. I simply was that guy who played basketball. Growing up poor, I loved watching movies because that was my getaway. While I was playing basketball professionally in Germany, I didn’t speak the language, so I would ask my friends back in the U.S. to send me as many movies as possible. This was before Netflix and Hulu. On a lot of those DVDs, there were ‘the making of xyz’ or ‘behind the scenes’ of those films where directors, writers and filmmakers like James Cameron and Steven Spielberg would show and explain what and how they did their jobs. Watching those scenes taught me filmmaking, and I soon realized that I wanted to become a filmmaker.

Deon Taylor, number 15, during his days on the Oilers basketball team.

Courtesy of Deon Taylor

How did your basketball background help you face that adversity in the film industry?

I’ve built my filmmaking career by learning, losing and bumping my head a couple of times. There were a lot of sleepless and hurtful nights, but I feel like basketball really helped me get through those times. I tell people all of the time to have their kids play sports. The adversity you go through in sports is the closest thing to real life. It’s the only place where you can be the best player on the team and the coach won’t play you. It’s all these different things that you go through in sports that prepares you for what you’ll experience and see in life. I’ve had those moments, and I apply it to life journeys and filmmaking. It’s easy to ask yourself, ‘Why does this director get hired for a big-budget movie and not me when my stats are far greater?’ But that’s where you have to be grounded in who you are and not stay looking over the fence. You have to trust God.

Did basketball keep you from falling into stereotypes?

Playing in college, it took me out of the projects and into tournaments in different cities and seeing my name in the paper and on the news as a basketball player … not for shooting or robbing someone. That could have been my fate if I fell into streets, but I didn’t because I had that love for the [basketball] game where I would spend countless hours after school practicing on the playground, shooting, dunking and even trying the latest Michael Jordan move. And even now, the game is still teaching me.

As a former Division I, full-scholarship basketball player, do you feel the NCAA should pay college athletes?

When I was playing basketball at San Diego State, I didn’t really have an opinion because I was just thankful to have my school fully paid for and be able to eat while doing something I love. But as I got older and I now look at the business of college basketball and see how much money is generating from March Madness, these players should be getting paid. I’m not saying an 18-year-old kid should be getting $100K a year. Hell, no. But they are doing a service for the university. And think about the parents who are traveling for all of the games and taking off from work to be able to support their kids at the games. It would be nice for the athletes to get paid so they can also help their families with those expenses too.

Who is the greatest athlete of all time?

Jesse Owens and Michael Jordan. Jesse was running in a time when there were no diet supplements, dietitians, sneakers or advanced sports science to enhance your athleticism. He was just a guy who was naturally an athlete. There was nothing to enhance what he was doing at that time, but he was still running that fast and at that level based on just his natural body and the makeup of his DNA. With Michael, it was his will to win. It wasn’t just his ability; it was his stamina in the fourth quarter of games. He wasn’t a freak of nature as far as body physique like LeBron [James] or Shaq [O’Neal], but his brilliance and psychology on the court was something I admired and looked up to growing up. Kobe [Bryant] possessed a lot of that, but he’s no MJ.

What conversations do you have with your daughter to best prepare her in navigating the real world as an African-American woman?

It’s an everyday conversation that’s not just about teaching but creating a lifestyle. I try to educate my daughter, Milan, on each and every thing I see without holding my tongue. I’m teaching her three core things: trust your intuition, everyone will not be happy for you and danger is around you at all times. I didn’t understand a lot of what my mother told me when I was younger, but now as a parent, danger has tripled and it’s not just about getting home before the streetlights come on now. There are predators coming from everywhere, even in the police at times. Take, for instance, the unarmed young black man, Stephon Clark, who was shot 20 times by the cops right here in Sacramento. It’s a lot to take in and continues to evolve the conversations I have with my daughter.

The Miami Heat’s Derric Franklin is the first black leader in the very new history of the NBA 2K League With players Hotshot, MaJes7ic and 24K DropOff, has the guy in the violet Afro created the best big three since D-Wade, LeBron and Bosh?

Four years ago, when Derric Franklin returned from Afghanistan, where he’d been deployed by the U.S. Army, he picked up NBA 2K15 and began playing the game with a virtually created avatar. The only thing is, he didn’t know to change the avatar’s name, “Russ Snow,” or its physical appearance, a 7-foot-3 center with a massive purple Afro. But he let it rock, even as he became more well-versed in the game, and people took notice.

By 2016, he began operating under the persona “Famous Enough” as a way to embrace talented players whom the game cultivates worldwide. “ I wanted to let them know,” he said, “that they were famous enough to get the credit they deserve.” Via YouTube videos and a strong Twitter presence, Franklin became a fixture in the 2K community as “Famous” — a source of news and an evaluator of skill. But even as his profile expanded, Franklin continued to channel his inner Russ Snow. He dons a purple ’fro at every 2K event — and this one? It’s his biggest yet.


NEW YORK — It’s an uncharacteristically dreary spring morning in Manhattan, and Derric Franklin pulls up at Madison Square Garden earlier than most. In the sea of suits that begin to fill the arena, he stands out: button-down shirt, gray cardigan, dark blue jeans and freshly unboxed Game Royal Air Jordan 1s. The crown jewel of his ’fit is a custom Afro wig, dyed a faint violet and picked out in all its glory.

“This is me,” he says after climbing an MSG escalator that leads him to the lobby of the Hulu Theater. The ’fro is a trademark of Franklin’s swag in the NBA 2K community. And among tastemakers surrounding the most revered basketball video game in gaming history (and its most popular mode, the 5-on-5 Pro-Am gameplay), the 6-foot-4 Famous is something of a Don Corleone. Famous knows everyone — including players, streamers and league creators — and everyone knows Famous. This realm is his element, and in his element he commands the utmost respect.

“Today is the day,” he continued. “I had to tell myself, ‘Oh, s—, this is real.’ ” It’s April 4, 2018, and the draft of the inaugural season of the NBA 2K League has finally arrived. Professional gaming squads from 17 of the NBA’s 30 teams are gearing up to select from a crop of the best players on the planet. Beginning in May, the season will consist of weekly matchups and monthly showcases, all leading to the postseason in late August.

Miami Heat Check Gaming coach Derric “Famous” Franklin climbs the stairs to the war room during the first ever NBA2K League Draft on April 4, 2018 at the Hulu Theater at Madison Square Garden in New York City, NY.

Brent Lewis/The Undefeated

For those a part of this world, this moment has been a long time coming. Back in February 2017, the NBA announced a partnership with Take-Two Interactive, 2K’s publisher, to bring the league to life. Since then, the latest installment of the series, NBA 2K18, became 2017’s top-selling sports video game, despite being released in mid-September, and is ranked behind only Call of Duty: World War II in national sales. The game is a multicultural phenomenon, and it just got bigger.

“He got a lot of us to make Twitters. … He was just good for the community. We always played 2K, but there was no meaning to it. Derric came in and brought that.”

“From the NBA’s standpoint, this is our fourth league,” NBA commissioner Adam Silver says in a packed news conference. “Of course we have the NBA, the WNBA and the G League, and now this is the fourth league in our family — and that’s exactly as we’re treating it: one more professional league.”

Famous is running on the fumes of a mere three hours of sleep, though he doubts that anyone else in the building has studied the field of talent — which went from 72,000 gamers to 250 to a final pool of 102 — more than he has. As team operations coordinator (basically, general manager and coach) of the Miami Heat’s squad, he’s had full control of Heat Check Gaming’s draft strategy since he joined the organization in February.

The hire came after initial talks with Sacramento’s Kings Guard Gaming, Portland’s Blaze5 Gaming and Washington’s Wizards District Gaming. For some reason, he went 0-for-3 in each of those interviews. “It’s definitely something that isn’t going to be forgotten,” he says of the teams that passed on him. Of the 17 teams in the first season of the league, Franklin is the only black leader.

HotShot, MaJes7ic and 24K Dropoff are Miami’s best big three since D-Wade, LeBron and Bosh.

“We didn’t set out and say, ‘Hey, we wanna hire an African-American coordinator,’ ” said Michael McCullough, the Miami Heat’s chief marketing officer, who is also black. “But when we met Famous, and learned about his background and what he can bring to us, it was a no-brainer. … He understood that the bulk of the gamers in NBA 2K are African-American and Hispanic … so we felt like he was able to bring that diversity to life and be different than some of the other teams.”

After the draft, the six players whom Famous selects will put in two weeks’ notice at former day jobs and uproot their lives. They’ll sign contracts, which include medical insurance and retirement plans, with the Miami Heat organization, worth more money ($35,000 for the first-round pick and $32,000 for players taken afterward) than what the NBA’s G League players make. Heat Check gamers will then move into new apartments in Coral Gables, Florida, where the team’s gaming room is on its own level. And for the next five months, they’ll compete for a $1 million prize pool, spread out over three in-season tournaments and the playoffs, with one goal in mind: a championship.

Derric “Famous” Franklin meets with – and – before the start of the draft. during the first ever NBA2K League Draft on April 4, 2018 at the Hulu Theater at Madison Square Garden in New York City, NY. (Brent Lewis/The Undefeated)

Brent Lewis/The Undefeated

T-minus one hour till the first team goes on the clock, and Famous spots and daps up Ivan Curtiss and Toijuin Fairley, co-founders of the popular MPBA2K league who were hired by Milwaukee’s Bucks Gaming as draft analysts. Together, the three influencers are the only black representatives from the 2K community calling the shots at the draft (Christopher Toussaint serves as a players manager for Orlando’s Magic Gaming, and Hall of Famer/Sacramento Kings co-owner Shaquille O’Neal was named general manager of Kings Guard Gaming but didn’t make the trip to New York). But even Curtiss and Fairley look up to Famous’ position. “He’s built solid relationships with thousands of players, from unknown to known, and knows what he’s talking about,” said Curtiss, whom Famous reached out to share the news of landing the Miami gig. “He’s our only competition.”

Famous embraces the pressure of being the head of a franchise and architect of a roster that needs six MyPlayers: a point guard, shooting guard, small forward, power forward, center and sixth man. And his confidence is oozing. “I’m gonna control the draft,” he said. “Things are gonna go the way I want. No other way.” Imagine this is the game itself for Famous. He grabs the rebound off the glass and leads the break up the floor. Now, it’s just time to score.


Heat Check Gaming’s war room is a cramped dressing room, deep in the bowels of Madison Square Garden. Inside, Famous sits at his bulky Dell Alienware laptop, scrolling up and down a color-coated Excel spreadsheet that he spent countless hours perfecting. Ever since the 2K League finalized the very multicultural-appearing group of draft-eligible prospects, many who are attending the event in New York wearing new suits purchased on the league’s dime, Famous went through scenario after scenario, simulating selections.

Derric “Famous” Franklin goes through his draft order before the round begins.

Brent Lewis/The Undefeated

Although 2K is a point guard’s game, the league’s altered game mode (or “build,” as it’s called by gamers) allows for big men to thrive. So for weeks, the head of Heat Check focused his energy on taking a center with the team’s first pick at No. 7 overall. “I’m 99.9 percent sure,” Famous said over the phone from Miami, about a week before the draft, “that nobody else has this mindset.”

At 1:33 p.m., Silver calls the name of Artreyo Boyd, an e-point guard from Cleveland known as “Dimez,” as the No. 1 overall pick of Dallas’ Mavs Gaming. That’s right, the commissioner who announced Andrew Wiggins, Karl-Anthony Towns, Ben Simmons and Markelle Fultz as top picks in the NBA sticks around to welcome the first player to be taken in the 2K League. That’s how real this thing is. “It’s a blessing, man. I’ve worked so hard,” Boyd says onstage. “I’ve been playing for a very long time.” Before Dimez became arguably the best 2K player in the world, with a massive multiplatform following, Famous encouraged him to expand his skill set and brand outside of GroupMe conversations with fellow players by marketing himself in relevant ways.

“He got a lot of us to make Twitters,” says Dimez, who has nearly 30,000 followers/subscribers between Twitter, Twitch and YouTube. “He was just good for the community. We always played 2K, but there was no meaning to it. He came in and brought that. I respect Famous.”

With Dimez off the board, the league’s first draft has officially begun. Famous doesn’t watch but simply listens to the 50-inch TV mounted above him as Boston’s Celtics Crossover Gaming and Utah’s Jazz Gaming make their decisions. And just as he prophesied, the top three teams take a point guard. By the seventh slot, no one has sniffed out Famous’ strategy, so he gets his guy: Juan Gonzalez, aka “Hotshot,” a Miami native who’s “definitely in the conversation for the best center of the game,” said draft commentator/league analyst Jamie “Dirk” Diaz Ruiz. Meanwhile, Heat Check’s top choice collects his draft cap and walks onstage to pose in front of flashing cameras with league managing director Brendan Donohue.

“Derric understood that the bulk of the gamers in NBA 2K are African-American and Hispanic. … We felt like he was able to bring that diversity to life, and be different than some of the other teams.”

“It’s such an honor,” says Gonzalez, his hands still shaking after a circuit of interviews, “that it doesn’t feel real. I wanted to go to the Heat. I wanted to play for my hometown team.” The vibe is nearly identical to what any real NBA player experiences after being drafted. Flashing cameras and nonstop interviews. Congratulatory handshakes and salutes from every direction. Brewing trash talk between fellow picks — who would fire up the game right then and there to go at it on the sticks.

Heat Check Gaming’s first draft pick Juan Gonzalez aka ÒHotshotÓ calls his mother after being drafted while coach Derric “Framous” Franklin waits to welcome him during the first ever NBA2K League Draft on April 4, 2018 at the Hulu Theater at Madison Square Garden in New York City, NY.

Brent Lewis/The Undefeated

Famous claps after picking up MaJes7ic during the second round of the NBA2K League Draft.

Brent Lewis/The Undefeated

Famous appears and interrupts Gonzalez with a huge hug. “After the pick, I cried,” he says to Hotshot, who’s still beaming. The brief moment ends with Famous jogging back to his post, where he’s cracked open a fruit tray to fuel him through the next five picks. Next to his computer is the phone he uses to call in his selections to a league representative when it’s Heat Check’s turn to draft. Early on, he establishes a streamlined system for himself: pick up the phone, hit redial and say a name. No time wasted — that’s how certain he is of his choices. There’s quite a bit of time, though, until he must make another decision. A snake-style drafting format means Heat Check must wait 11 picks before its second selection. And as Donohue announces name after name, there’s one that, shockingly, remains uncalled.

Stanley Lebron (yes, that’s his real last name), known on 2K as MaJes7ic (pronounced Majestic), would’ve been the top-ranked shooting guard in the draft class but qualified as a point guard at the combine. Hotshot notices Lebron continuing to fall, pulls out his iPhone and dials Famous. “TAKE MAJES7IC!” he blurts out before his coach hangs up on him. Famous already knew what to do. With the No. 28 overall pick at the end of the second round, Heat Check lands the talented combo guard.

“This guy should’ve went in the first round,” says Famous, standing next to Lebron. “When he got there, I was, like, there’s no way I could pass on him.” Of the eight pre-draft interviews he conducted with gamers, Famous hadn’t even bothered wasting MaJes7ic’s time because it just didn’t seem feasible for him to still be there so deep in the draft. He continues raving about the second-round pick to members of the Heat staff: communications manager Lorenzo Butler, marketing manager Clara Stroude-Vazquez, videographer Edwin Jean and senior director of interactive media Lauren Cochran. They’re a dedicated crew who all made the trip up from Miami.

“I’m Dominican,” Lebron says with a smile. He’ll fit right in. The shooter hails from Queens, New York — but the Heat is his favorite NBA squad.


Basil Rose, the man from Montreal known in these NBA 2K streets as “24K DropOff,” looks deep into a SportsCenter camera and doesn’t hesitate. “Just like Lonzo Ball knew he was going to the Lakers, I knew I was going to the Heat.”

Famous had planned on taking a power forward in the third round, and the versatile DeMar Butler, who can essentially play every position on the floor under the gamer tag “OGDeedz,” sat atop his list. But Utah’s Jazz Gaming snagged OGDeedz four picks before Heat Check was in position. “Once Deedz was gone,” Rose said, “I could’ve just walked up before the three minutes on the draft clock started. I already knew.”

Derric “Famous” Franklin greets Basil “24k Dropoff” Rose after drafting him during the first ever NBA2K League Draft.

Brent Lewis/The Undefeated

Don’t get it twisted, though. 24K DropOff is no compromise for Heat Check. Famous interviewed him before the draft and placed Rose’s name high on his board. Of 72,000 players who participated in the combine, Rose emerged as the only one to average a triple-double (17 points, 14 rebounds and 10 assists). Hotshot, MaJes7ic and 24K DropOff are Miami’s best big three since D-Wade, LeBron and Bosh. And DropOff is certainly the alpha of the bunch — outspoken and super wavy, as they say north of the U.S. border. As for how he feels about playing for the league’s only black coordinator?

“You go on a TV or reality show — for example, I like Big Brother — and you’re only going to see one black guy, one black girl. Everybody else is gonna be white,” said Rose, who’s half-Jamaican and half-Nova Scotian. He left Canada for the first time in his life to attend the draft in New York. “It’s how the world works, but Famous is going to succeed. We just had a black president. … Well, you guys did, not me.”


Stop it, Famous … just stop it.

These are the whispers in the room, but as the draft rages on, he keeps splashing jumpers with his selections.

In the fourth round, he takes “sharpshooterlos,” a skilled small forward from Reading, Pennsylvania. “I thought Miami was the last place on Earth I was gonna land,” said Carlos Zayas-Diaz. “But, man, this is a dream come true. I got the best team in the league.” The fifth round yields a shooting guard in “Jalen03303” Jones, who didn’t make the trip to the Big Apple from his hometown of Bossier City, Louisiana.

Famous makes one last call in the sixth round. This time, it’s for Rahmel Wilkins, another shooting guard, who calls himself “HyPeR iS Pro” on 2K. “I was just watching the picks unfold in front of me,” he says, “and I was the final piece.”

Derric “Famous” Franklin walks back to the war room after the third round of the first ever NBA2K League Draft on April 4, 2018 at the Hulu Theater at Madison Square Garden in New York City, NY.

Brent Lewis/The Undefeated

The new faces of Heat Check Gaming gather in the first two rows of the theater’s auditorium for their first team meeting. “We’re gonna run, we’re gonna score a lot of points and we’re gonna play tough defense,” says Famous, while his players listen intently as their fearless leader delivers an Any Given Sunday moment.

“We’re gonna go win a championship,” he continues, “because I feel like we got the best team.” Famous adds a little more weight to the statement.

“Easily.”