Finding Tranquility: From Gulfport to Kyoto

Okinawa fears him. They have to now. Okinawa, the fiercely independent island chain with its own language and culture, has always regarded itself as different from the rest of Japan. Known best for exporting karate and music, this is an entirely different and new experience for Okinawa. The Okinawa Ryukyu Golden Kings are the first and only professional team in the history of the islands. They also happen to be the reigning champs of the basketball Japanese BJ League. And they were supposed to win.

But he had other ideas.

The most intriguing player on the Kyoto Hannaryz just missed nine games due to a calf injury. But he is 40 years old and is turning 41 next week, so you don't harp on that. Injuries happen at that age. At 41, you feel blessed just to be alive. But you know he wants to come back against the champs, to show Okinawa that he still has some gas left in the tank. 41 year olds aren't supposed to be playing basketball unless they are coaching YMCA rec leagues or shooting H-O-R-S-E with their kids. Certainly not playing professional basketball halfway across the globe in a fledgling league, less than five years old. And certainly not him. He was a college superstar. One of the all-time greats.

In his first game back against Okinawa, he played off the bench. In 20 minutes, he put up 12 points and helped spur Kyoto to a 93-76 win. He was a key performer, interjecting energy into the team. He shot 2 for 4 from 3 point range, and added 3 steals. But that wasn't enough. He wanted to add some drama. So 24 hours later, he decided to show the good citizens of Okinawa, what those in Louisiana already knew. The Hannaryz, an expansion team, was playing the Golden Kings again and the game was tied 66-66. Five seconds left on the clock. He shoots. He scores. 15 points and the game winning shot. 68-66. Okinawa now knows.

The win improves Kyoto to 11-15. There is not much talent on the team, and they have undoubtedly missed his presence during the injury. Optimism abounds however, as Kyoto's team has just dropped the champs twice on consecutive nights. But this is not a story about the Kyoto Hannaryz. And it is not a story about Okinawa, and how a quarter of its population (120,000 people) perished during World War II or how several American military bases continue to irritate the locals. It is about him. His journey. And finding peace in Japan.

Chris Wayne Jackson shot the lights outs in high school gymnasiums across Mississippi from the mid to late 1980s. Allegedly standing at 6 feet 1 inches (some of his friends swear he is no more than 5'10"), he had always been a small man in a big man's game. But he could shoot and he could score, dominating in the process. Jackson once made a record 283 foul shots in a row at his alma mater, Gulfport High. A Sports Illustrated article written 21 years ago, noted that his high school coach had a policy of making his players shoot free throws until they missed at the end of practice. Chris Jackson had others ideas. He never missed. So Jackson obliterated and ended that policy--because the kids wanted to go home. He went on to become two-time Mississippi Player of the Year. Perhaps the best basketball player in state history.

But the legend of Jackson was just growing and about to explode from the Mississippi River delta on to the national stage. Chris Jackson signed with the Louisiana State Tigers and changed Baton Rouge forever. He had the most prolific season in the history of college basketball for a freshman player. He set the NCAA rookie scoring record at 30.2 ppg. It still stands to this day. Kevin Durant of Texas tried to eclipse it a few years ago, but he couldn't pull it off. Scoring 30 night in, night out is no joke. Especially as frosh facing bigger, stronger, faster competition than you have ever seen before.

Chris Jackson made LSU relevant again. He brought record-setting crowds into the Louisiana Superdome. Over 54,000 people watched the little man bring down the mighty Georgetown Hoyas and their giant, Alonzo Mourning. University of Illinois’s star player, Kendall Gill said he was the best guard he has ever played against. Not only could he score, but he could pass. Move. Dribble. Dart. Dance. Break ankles. You never forget the day you had to guard Chris Jackson. Because if you had any pride or any arrogance, it was erased after he taught you a basketball lesson.

CJ nailed 172 3 pointers in 2 years. He was a First-Team All-American as well as SEC Consensus Player of the Year in both 1989 and 1990. His absolute dominance at the collegiate level prompted him to go pro after his sophomore year. His abilities vaulted him to the 3rd overall pick in the 1990 NBA Draft, selected by the Denver Nuggets.

Forgotten.

Why is it for a player so accomplished, that if you do a Google search for "lsu basketball chris jackson stats", a different Chris Jackson appears on the LSU website? An obscure college baseball player who ended up signing to play football for a brief stint with the Buffalo Bills in 2007. What happened to the legacy of perhaps one of the all-time best guards to ever play NCAA basketball? Why is he buried so deep in history that even the Internet can't find him?

What is he doing in those cool, wet, green winter mountains of Kyoto anyways?




The story of Chris Jackson is about more than basketball. Much more. According to his college coach at LSU, Dale Brown, "As great a player as Chris is, he's a better person." CJ was a far cry from the typical college player of today or yesteryear. Polite. Humble. Well-mannered. Respectful. A true gentleman. A coach's dream.

The basketball opposition Chris burned for deep trifectas beyond the arc and passed circles around was the easy part. That was just a game. No, that wasn't anything at all. Because you see, Jackson suffers from Tourette's Syndrome, a rare genetic neuropsychiatric disease. It is a tic disorder--and not one that is easy to deal with. It can manifest in many different ways--unwanted movements such as blinking or facial twitching. Or flailing an arm. At other times, there may be uncontrollable crying or blurting of obscene language, or socially inappropriate remarks. Living with Tourette’s can be quite difficult. There is no cure. Treatment may come in the form of various medications--antipsychotics, antidepressants, stimulants; or cognitive therapy and relaxation techniques. To live and overcome this disease is an accomplishment. A real victory, beyond the bright lights, screaming fans and the hardcourt.

To be a world-class athlete in spite of it. This is the stuff of legends.

To be successful in team sports, you not only need the talent and hard-work but you need the right circumstances. One of my best friends in high school was a basketball player that you had to see in person. Kind of like Chris Jackson, but not quite as gifted. He could also shoot the lights out of a gym--he could hit a shot from anywhere. Baseline. Free throw line. Three point line. Half court. Even 3/4 the way down the court, he had an uncanny ability to one-hand them in to the basket during practice. After setting records that included becoming one of the all-time leading scorers in New York State high school history, my friend instead opted for a Division III football scholarship. To play quarterback. Big time college basketball scouts were not keen on his athleticism. To this day, I feel he could shoot the ball with the best of them and have a decent NCAA basketball career. But the circumstances were not right. The opportunities, simply not there.

For Jackson, the circumstances were perfect at LSU. Suspensions of other prominent post players set up an offense that was geared through him and allowed CJ to absolutely flourish. The NBA was a slightly different story. Jackson averaged 14.1 ppg and 3.1 apg his rookie year, 1990-1991. Those were hardly paltry totals, but not what was expected of him and not enough to earn him Rookie of the Year--that honor went to Derrick Coleman of the New Jersey Nets. Jackson didn't quite live up to the billing and hype that he had created at LSU.

But 1991 wasn't really about basketball anyways. It was about the spiritual transformation of CJ, who was known to be deeply religious. It was the year Chris Jackson of Gulfport, Mississippi was becoming a Muslim. The process started in college, when Dale Brown gave him a copy of the Autobiography of Malcolm X. Jackson absorbed the details of Malcolm's life, taking all his words to heart and giving him a thirst for knowledge. To search and learn about freedom and justice. He began seeking out Muslim figures from various inner city ghettoes. He changed as person as he discovered the truth around him. During this process, with his mind not on basketball, CJ endured a dismal second professional year averaging only 10.3 ppg and 2.4 apg. In addition to poor on-court performance, he gained a lot of weight.

By 1993, Chris Wayne Jackson officially became Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf. He embraced the religion of Islam and changed his name, but his journey was far from complete. Although many other famous athletes had converted to Islam such as heavyweight champ Muhammad Ali and NBA superstar Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Abdul-Rauf's new identity sent shockwaves through the sports world. But the biggest shockwave was yet to come, years later. He became rededicated to ball--he shed the fat, 32lbs of it, and had his most productive season, increasing his scoring average to 19.2 ppg and passing for 4.2 apg. He even doubled his rebounding average. Islam focused him both on and off the court. The Nuggets investment started paying big dividends. He earned NBA Most Improved Player honors and consequently a nice, fat contract extension.

Before he injured his calf in East Asia, he had games in which he scored 22, 24, 25, 22, 26, and 22 points. Points are points--no matter the less than stellar Japanese competition. More recently in February post-injury, he has had games of 19 points each in a loss to the Toyama Grouses and a win versus the Fukuoka Rizing. But why is he playing in Japan? So he can make some more money? Or is it because that he is using his God-given talent, for his profession? Or is it so that he can be free again?

Abdul-Rauf began a string of impressive seasons after converting to Islam, with the following stats as a Denver Nugget:

1992-1993: 19.2 ppg
1993-1994: 18.0 ppg
1994-1995: 16.0 ppg
1995-1996: 19.2 ppg (with 6.8 apg)

He led the NBA in free throw percentage in both 1994 and 1996. In fact, in the 93-94 season, he made 219 of 229 free throws for 95.6%. He was one free throw short of breaking the all-time record held by Calvin Murphy of 95.8% that was established in 1981. He performed these impressive feats while fasting from sunrise to sunset during the Islamic months of Ramadan, further adding to the legend that few seemed to recognize. He still had Tourette's--but because he was such a great player, not everybody remembered. Overcoming a sophomore slump, you must understand was not anything.

Then on March 12, 1996--3 days after his 27th birthday, all hell broke loose. Abdul-Rauf refused to stand for the United States national anthem, which as you may know, is sung before every sporting event in the land. He had been silently protesting it earlier, by hanging out near the bench and this went unnoticed. But on that fateful day, it became quite public and started a national firestorm. He had disrespected America. Mahmoud viewed the American flag as a symbol of tyranny and oppression, given the nation's past history. Genocide of the native Americans, slavery, imperialism. Wars, occupation, and the support of Zionist apartheid. It all added up and Abdul-Rauf made what resulted in a life-altering decision, by sitting down on the flag. He was immediately suspended by the league--and eventually a compromise was made between the NBA and Abdul-Rauf. He would stand for the anthem, but simultaneously would be allowed to cup his hands and recite Islamic prayers. Although a deal had been hatched with basketball officials, he was vilified in the media. Treasonous. Traitor. Terrorist. It was clear--Abdul Rauf was not an American. He was an enemy.

The enemy.

Despite Abdul-Rauf having a career best season and leading the Denver Nuggets in scoring for four straight years, he was traded to the Sacramento Kings. He was banished. Punished for his sin. Sent into obscurity. With public opinion firmly against him and Abdul-Rauf unrelenting in his beliefs and principles, his NBA career suffered. His scoring averaged dropped to 13.7 ppg and the following year sank to 7.3 ppg. He only appeared in 31 games with the Kings that year. He was out of the league. Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf was the first political casualty of the NBA. His talent and skills were unquestioned, and he was on the top of his game--only to find himself out of work a short time after. The rest of his career was not so spectacular. Few know of it. He went to play in Istanbul, Turkey. He took a year off. He attempted an NBA comeback with the Vancouver Grizzlies in 2000 that fizzled within a year. Stints followed in Russia, Italy, and Greece. He even played in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia for the team Al-Ittihad for a year. That's the life of a professional basketball player who can no longer make it in the NBA, or in Mahmoud's case—one who is not welcome.

Michael Jordan just played basketball. The best in the world. He never made upsetting comments that challenged America's ethics, its psyche, or its actions. He was a media darling, fans loved him, and corporate sponsors flocked to him. He played it safe. Played it smart. In current times, Lebron James knows how it works. Does he believe in anything? Something more?  Does he want to, or care to take a stand? Change the world? What are his beliefs? What would happen if he decided to protest torture at Guantanamo? Or comment on the illegal occupations of Iraq and Afghanistan?

In reality, Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf is a true American hero. Heroes are not always the ones that bring home gold medals and the accolades, and surely they are not the ones that march into foreign lands on top of tanks, flag in hand. Patriotism, as it is currently defined, clouds intellect, and halts the thought process. It is much easier to anoint those heroes--the ones that can give everybody a nice, warm, fuzzy feeling. It is almost never recognized that dissent is a much truer form of devotion to country--to find and accept the flaws. Setting a foundation in order to improve and change the path. So that justice and freedom rings for all people--both inside and outside of the borders. Anybody can be a cheerleader. Anybody can ride the bandwagon. It takes true courage to challenge the accepted norms--to force introspection and insight.

Kyoto is a city of shrines and temples, relatively untouched by the Allied bombing campaign of World War II. It is famous for its botanical gardens, bamboo forests, Geishas, and modern railway station. But some where in this distant, foreign land is a man from the Bayou free from the burdens and hate thrust upon him. A man who has been playing hoops since the Reagan Administration. Hustling after loose balls, practicing twice a day, and trying to transfer knowledge of the game to his young, raw teammates. Teammates that will never be under the marquis at Madison Square Garden or the Staples Center. Young men who instead are playing in front of crowds at Becon Plaza and the Naha City Gym.

In the NBA Draft class of 1990 there are many big names--Derrick Coleman whose career was marred by off-court problems and injury. Gary Payton, the volatile guard who eventually found redemption with the Miami Heat, winning a championship. Jayson Williams, who may be best remembered for accidentally shooting a limo driver and then covering it up. Slam dunk champions Dee Brown and Cedric Ceballos. Toni Kukoc, trying to fill the void left behind by Michael Jordan. Bo Kimble and his inspired run in the NCAA Tournament after the death of a teammate. Dennis Scott, Rumeal Robinson, Elden Campbell...the list goes on. But in time, all these other athletes will be footnotes in the annals of history. Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf will be the one, who is remembered--for thinking; for questioning; for daring. A man of convictions.

There are too many details to cover in the Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf story--like his troubled childhood, divorce from his first wife as a result of lifestyle changes in order to practice Islam, or his political theories of conspiracy. Or his time as a religious leader, the Imam of a mosque in Gulfport--and its planned expansion which was blocked, as a result of weary views both of Islam and Mahmoud's well-documented flag incident. What is worth noting is the hate mail--calling him nigger and Bin Laden; telling him to fuck off; to go back to Africa. And also the Ku Klux Klan symbols that were unceremoniously spray painted on his Mississippi home. The same home that was later mysteriously torched to the ground, likely an act of hate and arson.

Maybe it's a constellation of all these life experiences that has chased him to find solace on the far side of the Pacific Rim. Or maybe, just maybe--it's the sound of swishes--balls going through baskets; nothing but net. A soundtrack that he has perfected. Music that is so beautiful to his ears, that he is willing to play ball in an upstart league with kids half his age and half his talent, half way across the planet. Ego be damned. For Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf is quite likely at peace, doing what he loves. Adding another chapter to the legend that is his life. The world may not know where Chris Jackson aka Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf is. But you can surely bet that Okinawa does.