My own personal Terry Porter story
Terry was known for his clutch free-throw shooting. He was as close to automatic in a close game as you’re going to ever get. Pressure made him better.
One season, though, he started out a little slow from the free throw line. So, as was his way, Porter was putting in extra time after practice trying to work his way through the shooting problems. My son, Will, often got to attend practices with me on days he wasn’t in school and was under the basket rebounding for Terry. This was pretty common and the players liked the fact that even though he wasn’t very big, he hustled after the ball, rifled it back to them and didn’t mess around. Besides, this was in the days of two assistant coaches — not seven or eight. There wasn’t anyone else around to rebound for them.
Casually, being a curious kid who was playing basketball in high school, my son asked Porter why he’d changed his routine at the line from the previous season. He probably knew Porter’s routine because he used to copy it like a lot of other kids in town. Good shooters have EXACTLY the same rhythm and bounce at the line on every single shot.
Terry pondered the question about his routine. I really don’t think he’d noticed that he’d changed a couple of little things. But in the next game he went back to the pre-shot routine he’d used the previous season and was right back to his old accurate self at the foul line. Problem solved.
That night during the game, Bill Schonely mentioned on the radio broadcast that Porter thought he’d figured out his problem at the line and had gotten a tip from Will Jaynes at practice about his routine that he hadn’t thought about. Man, what a thrill for a young kid. And thing is, Porter didn’t have to say that. He went out of his way to do it. To this day, my son delights in the story — not for anything that has to do with himself but for how thoughtful Terry Porter was toward him.
(Quick sidebar — All the guys on that team were incredible with kids. Jerome, Duck, Clyde, Buck . . . going back to Kiki Vandeweghe, Mychal Thompson . . . I’m leaving so many of them out, too. Sidebar to this sidebar — Whenever my son rebounded for a player, that player would end his workout by rebounding for my son. To this day, he finds it incredible that he’d rebound for an NBA player, then that player would turn around and shag a few of his shots. Vandeweghe once even took the time to teach him his patented step-back move. These were quality people — and not just with the beat writer’s kid. That didn’t matter. It’s just the way they were.)
But Terry Porter was unique — so genuine and kind, yet such a tough player at the same time. A very special guy.
Me, NBA, Trail Blazers | Dwight Jaynes | December 16, 2008
Dwight Jaynes, Portland Trail Blazers, Terry Porter, Will Jaynes
When I was a young Blazer fan, I idolized all the guys on those great teams from the late 80′s and early 90′s. On the playground but for some reason I always pretended I was Clyde, probably because he could literally fly.
As I’ve gotten older and more mature, I have a new found appreciation for Terry Porter and I have come to realize that he was, in fact, and always was the true heart and soul of those brilliant teams, a true Trail Blazer. True leaders are so far and few between. Terry was the guts.
I will be there tonight to honor him and I thank the Blazers organization for this opportunity, it’s the least they can do because I will never forgive management for ripping that team apart and experiencing the horror of seeing Terry in another uniform.
Double Booya!
Good story Sent off to my son. he will enjoy. He like me is a Terry fan.
When I think of Duck I picture him at the cafeteria at the school across the street from his old house in Beaverton. Those kids loved him, and he loved them. They never really harassed him like you would have thought a celeb would have been.
Dwight, that was a really nice story about Terry and your son. I think what makes players like Terry special is that they make the effort to do something simple and special for someone else. A class act, always.