I remember the first time I heard about Hook Mitchell. I was in a Wal-Mart in Mentone, AL looking through the most recent SLAM magazine in the summer of 2003. I usually skim through all the articles, look at the pictures, and since I was away from home I had to decide wether or not to purchase my favorite hoops magazine. I had never paid too much attention to the "Old School" section as I came across a picture of a guy dunking over what looked like three people. With my curiosity aroused I turned the page to see a picture of the same man, but instead of flying he was dressed in a prison jumpsuit. To say that I was intrigued would be an understatment. I devoured Scoop Jackson's article. I learned Hook's story and knew that the magazine would not only be purchased, but coveted. It occured to me that this was the modern day Earl Manigault except with a twist. This was the guy that comes from every city in America. The guy that everyone will swear was better than Jordan, but he just couldn't break that drug habit, he just couldnt make it to practice on time, he just couldnt do what was so obvious to everyone else. What made Hook different was that while he had made the mistakes of many legends past, he still had time to redeem himself. Redeem himself in basketball? Mabye. Redeem himself as a person by using his god-like status to get kids to keep from making the same mistakes he had once made? No doubt. When I read that there had been a documentary made on Hook's life in prison, I knew I had to see it. I went to the film's website and emailed to the information address as to how and when I could see the movie. Surprisingly, I got an email back from Micheal Skolnik who directed the film, telling me that they were working hard and that he would let me know when it was released. The first time I saw the trailer to the movie I probably watched it eight to twelve time in a row- stunned. How could he do that? I kept going back to the site just to see if anything new came up. In August, I went to the site and found a short note on the homepage giving Hook's address in prison if anyone wanted to write. I wanted to express to Hook how much I thought of him as a basketball player and as a person, from what I had gathered from the article. I felt like since he had been through everything he had been through the least I could do was to write him a note of personal hope and gratitude. But how weird is it to write to a convict in prison that has no idea who, where, or what you are. How weird is it, by today's unspoken codes, to write a thirty four year old black man from the projects if you are a white kid in the suburbs? I guess my admiration for Hook outweighed my reservations about "unspoken codes." I wrote about a page letter telling Hook how much I respected him for finding faith and cleaning up. I explained that I was a high school basketball player from Tennessee and that I would use him as motivation for my remaining two seasons. The whole time I wrote I realized that he probably wouldn't write back, but I just felt that if he at least read what I had to say then it would be worth my time. A week or two later I got a phone call from my mom while I was driving home from school. She said, "Joe, why do you have a letter from California with the words state prison stamped on the envelope?" At a loss for words, I told her I would explain after I read the letter. What I read was more than I could have ever fathomed. Not only did Hook eloquently thank me for my words, but he claimed he would write back, he wanted to know about my season, and he would give me any advice I asked for. I explained to my family what had happened and then read the letter to them. Thinking back, I think they were too blown away by what Hook said than to consider what I had done. I was shocked that I was actually beginning a correspondence with "one of the best players never to make it to the NBA" according to Gary Payton. I was extremely impressed at the level of compassion Hook expressed in writing me. I quickly wrote back and he back to me. I noticed as we continued to write that our conversations seemed less involved in basketball and more inlcined towards spirtuality and peace. He gave me drills for basketball, but more importantly showed me how to approach the game mentally. I was sent his dietary plan which even I, as a relatively healthy eater, couldnt live up to. He quoted Emerson and Thoreau in his writings. Knowing that he had converted to Islam, I inquired about its teachings and believe that I recieved a lesson. For instance, he explained how that it was man's nature to rebel against God and that we must be forgiven due to that fact. I began to realize that Hook was not only a phenominal basketball player but a man of great wisdom about life. For him to spend signifigant time to write me, an average Joe, showed his true generous spirit. Meanwhile, I tried to convey my utter appreciation for our relationship. His writings seemed to be improving in terms of vocabulary and eventually I had to grab a dictionary before I read his letters. My basketball season started and I felt I had something to prove, not only to myself, my team, my coach, or my family, but Hook. I would have much rather him be playing than myself so I tried my hardest to play in his honor. I sent him newspaper clippings of my good games and sent letters of disappointment when I played poorly. It seemed like whatever the situation Hook would respond with a message that was just what I needed to hear. I remember one game when I tried to get too fancy for my own good that led to a sub-par performance. The next letter from Hook said, "Your game is already sweet, no need to add any sugar." The highlight of my season came when I hit a fadeaway three pointer to send our game into overtime to beat our highly touted rivals. After the game, as I celebrated with my team I knew that it would not have been possible without Hook. Eventually I aclimated to Hook's suprises. He started telling me he loved me which is something that is very rare among friends of mine. I liked the thought of being able to have real love for a friend. I realized that not only did I love Hook, but it became apparent how much I had always loved my family and friends. He said a few times that God would allow him to do something special for me. As I saw it, he had done enough already, and I didnt really pay too much attention to those words. Once, he sent me a package with a letter and four pamplets/ books on Islam. The books did not convert me to Islam, that wasn't his reason for sending them, they made my faith stronger because I saw how deeply he felt about his god. Shirley Jones, Hook's grandmother, started writing me letters of advice, sent books of wisdom and articles on Hook. I recieved a magazine called School Sports from Hook which had a featured article on him. I was happy he sent it to me, but had no idea what lay inside. The first words in the article were, "There is a six foot white kid in Tennessee who has devoted his last two years of high school basketball to Hook Mitchell." This wasnt just a local magazine. School Sports is a nationally syndicated magazine devoted to covering high school sports. All I could do was hand the paper to my parents as I tried to figure out why Hook was being so kind to me. I think that article was Hook's gift to me, but even he didnt realize where our relationship would take me. As Hook's release from prison in April came closer I wondered what would happen once he was out. I asked him all kinds of questions about how he would deal with the old temptations, old friends, etc. His answer always went back to the same source; his faith. He said that he would call me when he got out and there was about a three week period where I didn't hear from him as he was reintroduced to Oakland. I was driving home from the YMCA and I checked my voicemail. Out of nowhere, it was Hook saying that he wanted to talk and left his number. I was extremely nervous when I got home and called him back. What do you say to someone that you have never spoken to yet know so well? At first it was awkard, but he was so kind he quickly put me at ease. He asked to speak with my mom, dad, and sister. They were all impressed with his politeness and the fact that he made the effort to call me. We started speaking about once a week as Hook continued to give me advice like a big brother. Before we hung up he always told me he loved me. I didn't know anyone besides my parents who did that on a regular basis. When it was time for me to find a job during the summer of 2004, I wanted to find a way to visit my cousin, Lewis Fowler, in NYC. I called my cousin to see if I could live with him for an extended amount of time and I emailed Michael to see if he could use some help in his work. They both said yes which started the best trip of my life. If I tried to describe Michael and the people I worked with in his office and my adventures in New York City, I could well be writing the rest of this month. Working for Michael was an experience in and of itself. I learned more and had more fun on the job that it hardly felt like "work." I helped promote Hooked, wrote treatments for some new films, delivered packages, and met some of Michael's friends in the film business such as Marc Levin and Rob Stone. Martha Skolnik, Paola Mendoza, and Lori Silverbush who worked in Michael's office all treated me with tremendous respect though I think my southern accent scared them at first. Michael was extrodinarily generous with his time away from the office. He took me to the NBA Draft, the And1 MixTape Tour game at Madison Square Garden, and to the ABCD Camp in Teaneck, NJ with Rob Stone. Michael encouraged me to go to some parties and at one, I met Half Man Half Amazing from the And1 Team. Michael took me to a Johnny Clegg concert at B.B King's Resturant which was fantastic. He even gave me two pairs of Reebok basketball shoes. Regardless, if Michael had not taken me to all those events, working for and getting to know him during those four weeks would have been totally worth the time. On my own time I visited the Metropolitan Museum of Art, Rucker Park (Jason Terry played the night I was there), and countless other spots. I also developed a much closer repationship with my cousin, Lewis Fowler. To try and describe living in NYC is nearly impossible, the pure adrenaline rush you get by just being there is surreal. I do not think I could have picked a better person to work for than Michael Skolnik and the people I met through him. I also talked to Hook while I was up there. I told him what had been going on and I thanked him because without our relationship, I would have never had the opportunity to meet Micheal and end up in NYC for the summer. That is my most crucial lesson from writing Hook; trust your gut. I almost didnt write him becuase the idea of it seemed so strange. I've since learned that some of the most seemingly "strange" things can be the most interesting and wonderful experiences in life. Thank you Hook. Back to diary entries