The life and legacy of pioneering international basketball superstar Hakeem Olajuwon, a two‑time NBA champion whose Hall of Fame career forever changed the game, both in the United States and around the globe—from the New York Times bestselling author of Giannis, Mirin Fader.
Ausar Thompson is finding his rhythm. It’s just shy of 8:30 a.m., and he’s launching midrange jumpers, slowly inching back to the 3-point line. His workout hasn’t officially begun, but he’s already laser focused, tracking each make and miss. He wakes with that kind of concentration, telling himself before sunrise: “You’re not going to stop once in this workout.” On this morning in January, he makes good on his promise. Pat Quinn, his shooting coach, fires him crisp chest pass after crisp chest pass, and Ausar bends low, releasing shot after shot, finishing each with a silky follow-through.
Every day on the bus ride to elementary school, 8-year-old Jae’Sean Tate would clasp his hands, tuck his head down, and pray to God: Please don’t let me get in trouble today. Please let me be good today.
After arriving, he’d calmly walk into his classroom, find a seat, and think to himself: I’m not going to get in trouble today. I’m going to be good today. And then, the anger would swell inside him, threatening to boil over. Teachers would wonder why he’d randomly start disrupting class, distracting fellow students, and throwing tantrums. He’d get in trouble so often he’d have to eat lunch with a school counselor. The principal’s office had a designated chair for him.
He didn’t want to get in trouble. He wanted to be good. He wanted to be seen for what he was: a loving, hard-working, studious boy. What he wanted most, however, was to not hurt anymore. To not break down. His classmates didn’t know about the sadness that lay underneath his hardened shell. Jae’Sean didn’t want to talk to anyone about where his pain came from.
Mirin Fader 