Tim hardaway jr. wife1/1/2024 ![]() ![]() At times it got to him, but his parents told him to ignore it - the other kids were just jealous.īy the time he reached Palmetto High School, though, the taunts of his classmates turned into the barbs of his own father. Other kids at school would tease him about his father, saying he was nowhere near as good as his dad. began to concentrate exclusively on his father’s sport.įrom the beginning, Tim Sr.’s career loomed over his son. After a freshman year football experiment, Tim Jr. certainly didn’t mind having him play it. played other sports as a kid, but basketball always loomed. He was First Team All-NBA the next season and was a five-time All-Star, the last appearance coming in 1997-98 when Tim Jr. Hardaway was traded to the Heat in the middle of the 1995-96 season, prompting him to settle down in Miami. With the NBA’s Golden State Warriors, he formed the famous “Run TMC” trio with Mitch Richmond and Chris Mullin. They called it the “UTEP two-step” when he played for the Miners from 1985-89. was mostly known for his killer crossover dribble. The problems of the past and present seemed bound to the future. It seemed like nothing was going to change. All that stuck with him was what the father said to his 16-year-old on that trip - that trip that began so disappointingly similar to all the ones before it. He didn’t know how many points he scored, how many rebounds he grabbed or how he played defensively. Looking back at it three years later, the son couldn’t even remember whether he had won or lost the game that night. It was balmy outside, but inside the car was a Michigan winter. How could anyone be upset driving around such a place, one whose very essence lifts a person’s spirits? Waiting at the end of the drive was a beautiful home, complete with an outdoor pool, a picturesque patio and a basketball court there, too, was an otherwise happy family, a mother and sister who were always ready to support and love. This was Miami - beaches, celebrities, glitz. There should’ve been no reason for the iciness. He won or he lost, and he and his father climbed into the luxury car without saying a word, draped in an oppressive silence.Īnd it wasn’t just after games - going to or from practice, school, a workout, anything over the last couple years. It was like after any other of the son’s high school basketball games. The son, a 16-year-old child trying to forge his own story in the shadow of his very name, leaned against the door of the passenger’s seat, with nothing to say. The father, who had all the glory any man could hope for, was in the driver’s seat, casually turning the wheel in rhythm with the Miami streets. ![]()
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