A Father First: How My Life Became Bigger Than Basketball (37 page)

Certainly, for me, being awarded Finals MVP, after averaging 34.7 points per game and being given the trust of my coach, my team, and my fans, was humbling and more rewarding than even words can say, and definitely career altering, too—if not life altering. Winning MVP, after only three years in the NBA (the magic of number
3
again), shot me into the stratosphere like a rocket. I was suddenly on all kinds of magazine covers, on talk shows day and night, and had millions of dollars of new offers flooding in.

There’s nothing like the view and the exhilaration of being at the top. Nothing. Even if eventually you have to come down to the ground and start planning the next expedition.

The 2006 NBA championship finally seemed to put to rest the question “Dwyane who?” But just to be sure, I made up some wristbands to remind everyone. Some said, “I ain’t going out like that.” The others read, “Any more doubters?” For a while, at least, there weren’t many.

As rough as some of the patches had been on the way to the top, the lasting lesson was one that I would hold close. I knew now, as an adult, that even in the darkest hour there is still a reason to believe anything is possible.

Little did I know in those happy days after winning the championship how much I would need that lesson again—as much off the court as on it.

M
ID
-N
OVEMBER
2011

A
T
THE
C
ONDO

M
IAMI
B
EACH

THE LESSONS OF TEAM AND 15 STRONG HAVE BEEN WITH ME throughout my life, not just during the year of the 2006 championship. So it’s no surprise that as the boys and I get ready for Thanksgiving and Christmas, I’m thinking of creative ways—like Pat Riley—to motivate each of them individually and together.

Zaire, Zion, and Dada have been troopers from the start, willing to adjust, as long as they’re given a heads-up. Children really are much more adaptive than we give them credit for.

The idea of having a family plan, much like a team, has been a helpful concept in our household. When one of us has an accomplishment we consider it a family win. When one of us is going through a tough time, we can all be there to boost each other’s spirits.

And we all have our challenging days. The fact is that for children like mine who have had to deal with their parents’ divorce and/or with parents who live in different places, there are going to be tough times and difficult conversations.

How to talk to kids about divorce? Honestly, of course, and also by being careful not to alienate them from the parent they will continue to love and need—no matter how mad or resentful you might feel toward that spouse.

I say this with all sincerity, for reasons I’m about to reveal.

Chapter
Ten

Olympics
 

E
ARLY
MORNING

N
OVEMBER
19, 2011

P
ORTLAND
, O
REGON

T
HE SOUND OF A POUNDING THUNDERSTORM WAKES ME UP IN my hotel in Portland.

My first thought is—where am I? The next is—can I please stay in bed and sleep a little longer?

Not a chance.

I’m expected early at Nike headquarters along with a handful of the other players who, like me, are represented by CAA. With the lockout dragging on, our agents decided to sponsor a training camp to make up for the inactivity that could lead to injuries down the road while getting us in shape for our December tour of charity exhibition games. CAA approached the Nike and Jordan brand executives who agreed for us to have our training there at the grown-up wonderland that Phil Knight and his team have created in nearby Beaverton—a world unto itself.

Ever since Michael Jordan honored me with an invitation to be the public face of his line at Nike, the Jordan brand, I’ve appreciated the opportunities to provide input about products and promotion. So while we’re here, we’re also going to be talking to designers, testing new products, and jumping back into some training that we’re sorely missing as a result of the lockout.
Sore
being the operative word.

Yeah, the NBA lockout. As one of the lows that Lamar Odom had warned me about, this was one of those times for continuing to find the middle ground and not letting fears of missing an entire season overwhelm any of us. But, since that’s now looking like a reality, my frustration is that, in my opinion, the players have been the only ones who have come to the table with real concessions. In these rainy early-morning hours, I’m not optimistic that the owners will come back with anything that would allow us to salvage the season.

Checking texts, e-mail, and twitter, I see that Associated Press writer Tim Reynolds, a sports journalist I greatly admire, has a piece about the tour and the lockout that quotes me.

“I’m sore,” Wade said. “But that’s why we set it up this way. We want to get into work mode. When we get into the tour, we want to play. We want to be equipped to do that. We don’t want to just run up and down the court and jack up shots. We want to get into the things we need to do when it comes to strength, defense, all those things you usually do in training camp. So we’re getting into that mindset.”

There’s been no shortage of exhibitions featuring NBA players during the lockout, which is now in its 21st week and has already led to the cancellation of more than 300 games—roughly one-quarter of a full season. Talks broke off last week after players declined an offer that the NBA said would have raised salaries considerably, which apparently wasn’t enough to convince player reps that it was the right deal.

Other media are running stories on the number of players actually leaving to go play overseas. The word on me is that I’m thinking about it seriously. Why? Because as I was quoted in a few sources: “I’ve missed a year of basketball in my life before. I’m not trying to miss another.”

That’s pretty much what’s on the schedule after this training effort and our tour. Wow, I didn’t think we would get down the road so far. But then again I should know better.

On the other hand, in the midst of this thunder right now in the early morning as I rouse myself from bed, I have to remember that there is always hope that what’s right and just will eventually come to pass.

Beyond basketball, I know that’s a big statement and I say it as a proud African American, who has grown up seeing so much injustice and senseless violence. The fight for justice and equality continues. But I have to believe in justice, as a faithful servant of God. That’s what I’ve tried to be and will continue to be. That’s a belief to fight for as a father and as a citizen.

Hope for justice? On a personal level, have I always felt that? Honestly, my preparation in life, feeling the unfairness, being scared all the time, worrying about people I loved, gotta say—the world I saw wasn’t always just. And on another personal level as a veteran of a protracted divorce that continues as of this writing, at times I may have come close to giving up on what was just.

As my story has shown, over the years I’ve had to keep my faith in a positive outcome when there was little evidence to support my belief in such a possibility. After so many tests, I never expected that a divorce/custody battle could bring into question my convictions that justice for my kids would eventually prevail. But there was a time when I came close to giving up.

That was in the darkest days of the custody case, when new tests of faith were in front of me. If the toll had been only on me, I could have dealt with it, but not when people I hold dear were being put through pain. Was it shocking that a mother who loves her children would distance them from the same father she had once praised to the skies? It was. Was it my fault for believing that she would never alienate her children from their father, even if a divorce came to pass? It was.

My error was not understanding that people who feel wronged, justifiably or not, can talk themselves, or be talked, into making choices of retaliation or vengeance, which is not in their or their kids’ best interests.

But, and I say this with no lack of forgiveness in my heart, I believe in the cardinal rule of breakups when there are children involved. That rule is simple: you have to make sure, no matter what, that the children know it’s not their fault. To use them in any way to get back at the other parent or to make them responsible for fixing the problems of the marriage—well, that’s not okay. It’s not their job.

Looking back, I take full responsibility for being naïve. And I take responsibility for being, at age twenty-five, at a point in life of deciding once and for all to be selfish and for just wanting to be happy.

BY THE LAWS OF NATURE, WHAT GOES UP MUST COME DOWN.

That was the backstory to the Heat’s 2006–2007 season. And there were other problems. We came back as the same team, of course, since we’d just won a championship. We were the same guys, yeah, but after spending the summer partying and riding the wave of accolades and adoration, we were out of shape. Now the guys who were already older were playing that way. Other teams came after us in the regular season and we weren’t at all ready.

While that was happening with the Heat, the rest of my life had good news and bad. As for the good, these were heady, heady days. To have gone from being the NBA draft underdog to being called the greatest player in the game by former skeptics—that was crazy! Awesome and crazy!

Of course, I knew there were going to be highs and lows. So I braced myself. Still, I had every reason to be ecstatic. Coming out of the 2005 playoffs, I had already been fortunate to have the top-selling basketball jersey, and those sales soared even more after I won Finals MVP in 2006; despite the Heat’s sluggish next season, my jersey continued to be the top seller long into the following year. Another pinnacle in 2006 was being awarded the
Sports Illustrated
Sportsman of the Year Award; for me to receive that after only three seasons in the NBA was humbling and thrilling at the same time. Then there were developing business relationships with companies like T-Mobile and Pepperidge Farm, in addition to Converse and Gatorade, who made deals with me earlier. And others started swarming.

The endorsement opportunities that we sought were, as Hank had planned it, strategic. To give me room to grow, I didn’t have to be on TV selling everything. Only products that I was passionate about and companies that were interested in building long-term relationships with me. This part of my career and the business lessons I was learning were rewarding for many reasons. Mainly I was being given opportunities to appreciate that my life was bigger than basketball. I liked the sense of fun and accessibility that marketers could tap in me. If I could inspire a new generation of D-Wades, using my story as the underdog who made it, that was keeping the promise that I’d made long ago not to forget kids like me.

Because my brand partners were investing so much in me, I believed in making an investment in their goals. In cultivating loyal relationships, I took what I learned from the court about 15 Strong and the importance of team in general and came up with the idea of a team for Brand Wade. Since I was the common link between the different partners, I hosted retreats and strategic planning meetings where they could all get to know each other, have fun, and bring together the best of all of our combined creative thinking for mutual success.