The Rat That Got Away: A Bronx Memoir

25. College: Round II

25 College: Round II Over the years, I have become convinced that there is no God of Second Chances. The God I’ve been dealing with has given me three, four, five, and more. So I should not have been surprised when just before I left Montreat Anderson Junior College, I was approached by Coach Charles Moir of Roanoke College in Salem, Virginia. He had just been voted Coach of the Year in the NCAA small college division after his team won the national championship, and he wanted me to come to the school and help them defend their title. The one catch was that I would have to go to summer school before gaining admission, but he promised that, once I got to Salem, I would have a job so I would have cash in my pocket. Even though I had dreams of playing big-time college basketball, I had the sense to accept his offer because I did not have the grades to transfer to a major basketball power. On that promising note, the summer of 1972 began. When I got back to the block, I focused, once again, on improving my game. When an older brother named Larry asked me to play on his Rucker College Division team in the Bronx, I said ‘‘Yes’’ quickly, though I soon found out that Mousey and Tiny also had teams, and it was likely theirs were even better. The team I was on was mostly composed of people from around the Patterson Houses that I was friendly with, like Cliff (‘‘Mole’’) Western and Ronald (‘‘Gumby’’) Wayette. Nobody expected us to do very much, but we ended up winning the Bronx championship and found ourselves playing in the Rucker College Division championship at Brandeis High School to decide the best team 146 College: Round II 147 in the city. We were playing against Tiny’s team, but he couldn’t be there because he was playing in the Rucker Pro Division with Dr. J (Julius Erving), so he let his agent coach. Until this point, I had been telling everyone I was going to Roanoke College in Salem, Virginia. However, Tiny’s agent, after he saw me play in some of the Rucker games, was so impressed he managed to get the University of the Pacific in Stockton, California, interested in recruiting me. He told me that I would be playing against UCLA and other powerhouse schools, and naturally I was as happy as I could be. When they announced the names of the players before the championship game at Brandeis, they introduced me as ‘‘Allen Jones from the University of the Pacific.’’ Our team won the game, and I was selected tournament MVP. I felt like the Prince of the City among the city’s college ballplayers. I could almost smell a pro basketball career. After the game, I spoke to the coach of the University of the Pacific team, who had just gotten hired and was looking forward to his first year at the school. He told me that he envisioned me as part of his starting five and that he would fly me and my mother out for a visit as soon as he received a transcript of my grades. The minute he mentioned grades, I felt as though somebody had punched me in the stomach. Everybody in New York who had helped me assumed that I had been studying when I was away at school and that I would meet the academic requirements. I knew better, so I waited for the inevitable. It did not take long for the phone call to come: The coach told me that my grades weren’t high enough for me to be admitted to the school and that he didn’t want to have any problems his first year of coaching. Tiny’s agent was furious with me. ‘‘Allen,’’ he said, ‘‘what the hell were you doing in school?’’ I was so ashamed. It was only then that I realized how important it was to study and go to class. I also realized that all the street ball players who were telling me that, if you were a good player, someone would take care of your grades were losers looking for the easy way out and that I was a loser for listening. I cannot describe how disappointed I was, but I knew it was my own fault. At Cornwell Academy, where I had mandatory study hall, great...