On Feb. 8, 2003, a teenaged basketball player that everyone believed was destined for greatness came to Trenton, scoring a career-high 52 points and putting on the kind of show that left no doubt about his future stardom.
Before he did any of that, he led his traveling circus on a tour of this state, with stops at the inner-city projects, an elite private prep school and an Ivy League cafeteria. He dodged photographers, met with a college admissions director and interrupted a chess tournament.The four photographers are angry and getting angrier with each tick of the clock. James is just 50 yards away, in the Tucker Street career center for Isles, the charity sponsoring the tournament.
James answers several questions from the group. He talks about the game to come that night, about the athletes from other teams at his school who resent the basketball team’s success, and about the Ohio High School Athletic Association’s decision to suspend him for accepting two free jerseys. A court ruling restored his eligibility in time for the Prime Time Shootout.
The team escapes through a back entrance, like a rock band, sending Basil scrambling. He runs out the door to find them. He runs back to get his coat. He sees where the bus is heading, and he runs across campus to beat it there. He sits in the crowd at the arena, but to keep the autograph seekers away, one of his guards stands directly behind him, eyeing the crowd. No one gets close.
The show is not. He has a two-handed fast-break dunk. Another baseline fade-away 3. A pair of one- handed breakaway dunks. He shows his bulging biceps to the crowd after one basket, and gestures for the ovation he richly deserves when he leaves the game. Westchester needs a 3-pointer at the buzzer just to tie James.