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.
Dozens of little girls in WNBA jerseys lined up to catch a glimpse of Brittney Griner. They screamed as Griner sprinted toward them with a giant smile, extending her hands to high-five as many as she could. The longtime Phoenix Mercury star even returned for one more round of high fives to make sure she didn’t miss a single, tiny hand.
They waited with terror, not knowing what would happen. Ruminating on what could happen. Suddenly, they realized just how unpredictable life could be. How arbitrary it all seemed. How things could be fine one day, then twist into chaos the next. Back in 2016, Jrue Holiday’s wife, Lauren, a former star midfielder for the U.S. Women’s National Soccer Team, underwent medical testing. She had been experiencing terrible headaches and was six months pregnant with their daughter at the time. Then, one word from the doctors changed everything. Tumor.
The couple let the word sink in. In a moment, their entire world had shifted. A world where Lauren had been a two-time Olympic gold medalist and FIFA World Cup champion and where Jrue was a star point guard for the New Orleans Pelicans. The doctor told them the brain tumor was benign. The road ahead was no less daunting, as both Jrue and Lauren were still in shock, still fearful for the future. “I don’t think people realize how strong she was in a situation where her life and her child’s life were possibly in danger,” Jrue says. Change, Jrue was learning, could come at any moment. For anyone. Change, he soon realized, was the new normal for the Holidays. There would always be a before and an after. The way things were and the way things would be.
When Richardson is in this mode, black dry-erase marker in hand, jotting down notes on the board, he feels most whole, most alive. Coaching, hooping, losing himself in the rhythm of a play. “He’s so passionate about what he does,” says 14-year-old Elijah Novotny, one of Richardson’s players. “I can just feel his energy.” It’s in these moments, Richardson says, that he forgets he’s coaching middle schoolers. It’s almost as if he’s back on the Division I court, back at the University of Arizona, where he served as an assistant coach from 2009 to 2017. He was known in college basketball circles as one of the top recruiters in the country, and he regularly helped his teams land top-10 recruiting classes. While in Tucson as part of Sean Miller’s staff, Richardson helped continue the Wildcats’ winning tradition; he was part of five Sweet 16s, three Elite Eights, four Pac-12 regular-season championships, and a pair of Pac-12 tournament titles. Sometimes, when he’s alone on the Gauchos’ court, long after his players have gone home, Richardson turns off the lights and imagines himself in another time, another place. Before the FBI investigation. Before he lost his job, his career, and his sense of identity. For a moment, his shame dissipates, and he allows himself to dream. “I find myself back on the college bench,” he says. “I find myself back in the college locker room. I find myself trying to get to a Final Four.”
Mirin Fader 