Tyreke Evans of Chester is living an NBA dream

SACRAMENTO, Calif. - If you're a 76ers fan, consider putting down this newspaper. Because this is a story about Tyreke Evans, who's given hope and energy to the previously floundering Sacramento Kings.

Because this is a story about a Philly kid, a graduate of American Christian Academy in Delaware County, whose ball-on-a-string skills and beyond-explosive first step have turned the Kings from who-really-cares into gotta-check-them-out.

If you're a Sixers fan, consider putting down this newspaper because it might be painful knowing Sacramento now has the thing - that thing - which your team can't seem to find: an identity.

And he was born and raised in Chester, Pa., but mostly on blacktops and hardwoods.

You can't go many places in Sacramento - not the gas station by Arco Arena, not the Subway's sandwich shop in downtown's Old Sacramento - where folks don't know about Tyreke Evans, the Kings rookie point guard, the young man living the future always prophesied.

The Kings do their part to hype Tyreke, whose last name will soon be as extraneous as his always-trailing defender: announcing him last in the starting introductions, saying his name with flair - as if his free throws count double - when he steps to the line.

On Tuesday night against the Orlando Magic, Gavin Maloof, whose family owns the Kings, sat courtside wearing Tyreke's No. 13 home jersey, legs crossed at the ankle, looking as confident and comfortable as if his team were the defending NBA champion.

The Maloofs' arena is set by itself, rising from flatlands, five miles north of downtown Sacramento. To leave this compound, one must wait at a traffic light above which the Kings have plastered this quote:

"When the crowd is up and making noise, they get our confidence up. When they're cheering for us, it helps a lot." - Tyreke Evans.

Although those words aren't as inspired as, say, the 20-year-old's crossover dribble, after each game about 13,500 Kings fans, the number steadily increasing, are reminded of him while making their way to adjoining Interstate 5.

Despite this growing adulation, one doesn't get the impression many locals could tell you much about Tyreke's game (one member of the scorer's table said the crowd is filled with cheerleaders, not basketball aficionados), but they are excited about this year's Kings, who this season already have 15 wins, after finishing with a league-low 17 last season.

But common logic tells them the rookie isn't just a part of the resurrection; he's its driving force.

Nice dude, that Tyreke, met him after a game once.

City's been needing someone like him.

It's good to see people getting back into the team.

Tonight inside the Wachovia Center, Tyreke will start against the Sixers, who have been searching for a new identity since Allen Iverson took his elsewhere, the first time around.

And tomorrow morning, Tyreke, who is averaging 20.6 points, 5.1 rebounds, and 4.9 assists a game (stay tuned for the impact of those numbers), will be one game closer to becoming this season's rookie of the year.

For "Team Tyreke," it's all part of "The Blueprint."

Tyreke lives in a townhouse within miles of Arco. He shares the space with Lamont Peterson, once his strength and conditioning coach now serving in a manager-type role, and Dwayne Davis, Tyreke's best friend.

Both are members of "Team Tyreke" - not incorporated.

Tyreke's network isn't filled with anchors, looking to drag Tyreke back home, but with family: his brothers Reggie, Doc, and Pooh, and a cousin, Temetrius.

"To say the least, there are some situations that make coaches worry, stay up at night," said first-year Sacramento coach Paul Westphal, who has coached both the Phoenix Suns and Seattle SuperSonics. "We don't stay up at night worrying about Tyreke."

"I don't think this is the first year they've been doing it," said Kings teammate Jason Thompson, who is from Mount Laurel, N.J. "But I'm thinking 3,000 miles away it is. They've been doing it back in Philly: being healthy and all that stuff."

Last year, Tyreke played one season for the University of Memphis. With Tyreke at point guard, the Tigers won 27 games in a row.

"Obviously Tyreke's goal was to play in the NBA," said Josh Pastner, now Memphis' head coach, who was an assistant under head coach John Calipari last year. "There was a lot of stereotype coming in saying 'Tyreke was this, Tyreke was that,' that maybe he was going to be a ball hog and difficult to coach. But two things happened: He passed too much and he was as nice a young man as you'll find."

All members of Team Tyreke are aiding "The Blueprint," - now Blueprint Inc. - which 37-year-old Reggie, second-oldest among the Evans brothers, incorporated after the Kings made Tyreke the No. 4 overall pick in the 2009 NBA draft.

The city of Sacramento, Tyreke said, provides minimal distractions; it is not difficult to be all about ball.

Just two years ago, being back home wasn't just a distraction, it wasn't always safe. Tyreke and his extended family don't want to talk about it now, but Tyreke was the driver of a vehicle from which his cousin, Jamar Evans, shot and killed a man in Chester in November 2007. After a police investigation, Tyreke Evans was not charged. In January 2009, Jamar Evans, 17, pleaded guilty to third-degree murder and firearm charges. He was sentenced to at least nine years in prison in June 2009.

Now, far, far away from Chester, Tyreke's future looks bright and lucrative.

"I'm looking forward to the next contract," he said. "That's what I'm here working for, that next contract, whether I'm going to be a King player or wherever I'll be."

This season, Tyreke will make $3.6 million.

"Team Tyreke is a family binding with outsiders we let in like Lamont," explained Reggie, who handles the business side of Tyreke's growing enterprise, which includes a deal with Nike and fashion company Hugo Boss, and is in talks with Vitamin Water. "That's us brothers making sure he don't want for nothing, putting everything around him."

"Blueprint Inc., that's the company, that happened right after the draft, and it's about finances, making sure his life after basketball is set."

Although the blueprint - lowercase - is now set down on paper, it's also a concept, as straightforward a design as the pick-and-roll: Get to the NBA, play at least 10 years, be set for life.

"This is all he's ever wanted to do," Peterson said. "And now he's finally here. All those years and he's finally here. The first part of the blueprint has been accomplished; the next phase is play 10 years."

Said Reggie: "It's a plan that's being executed to the fullest, but it's surprising at the same time, as a relative, watching a young man fulfill his dream."

It was Reggie who named Tyreke.

Bonita Evans, as she did the rest of Tyreke's life, trusted her son Reggie in picking a name. Their father, John Holmes, died of a heart attack four years ago.

"I'm the guy who named a lot of kids in the family," Reggie said. "I was the name giver. I don't know how I came up with that name or why. It's kind of making sense because he was born the night of Hurricane Hugo. They nicknamed him 'Hugo' in the hospital and now he's 'Reke-ing' havoc."

When Tyreke was 4, Reggie volunteered to coach biddy league basketball, where the youngest player was 6.

"They were in desperate need of coaches to volunteer," Reggie said. "Guy who ran the league couldn't believe it. He said, 'I never ever had a problem with a kid being too young to play.' I said 'Yeah, he's 4, man. If you don't let 'Reke play, I'm not coaching.' He told me to keep him under wraps."

It's hard to keep Tyreke's straight-to-the-hoop game under wraps. By age 12, Reggie had moved Tyreke away from Chester's rough-and-tumble streets to American Christian's varsity basketball team in Aston.

"We've been a part of the game across the globe and people always say, 'I wish we had what you had in Philly, y'all breed tough kids, breed that tough ball," explained Reggie. "It is different. It's always up to the individual, but that did help him."

At 14, Tyreke met Peterson, brought on board to transform Tyreke's 6-foot-3, 165-pound physique (he's now 6-6, 220). The pair started on a four-year-long journey of strength, speed, and flexibility training.

"That was going to be his only issue - he had the skill, he had the savvy, he had the intellect, he had everything else," Peterson said. "Only thing lacking was going to be his size, his whole body development."

For the next few years, Tyreke traveled the country, the world, as one of the nation's best prep players.

The Blueprint, this all-encompassing plan, started so young, you can't help but wonder how much more shine remains in Tyreke's star.

The way Reggie tells it, Tyreke was like Charlie Brown's Linus, except instead of a dirty blanket, his brother carried a dirty ball. In his bed, cuddling with it, in the bathroom, to the grocery store; so ever-present was this basketball that their mom was angry, wishing to "Get this dirty ball out of my house."

"If he was a kid that was rebellious against it, if I was the kind of guy pushing it on him, if it was my dream, pushing it on him, I would be afraid of that," Reggie said of burnout. "He fell in love with it; it was like him asking to play ball."

Can anything derail Tyreke?

"Something miraculous and crazy, something like him waking up one day and saying 'I'm done, I don't want this no more,' " said Reggie. "I'm not walking in his shoes. I know him enough, but I'm not him. I don't know if he'll wake up crazy one day after saying he wanted it so bad - that's why it would be crazy, because he's working so hard to make all this happen."

On Tuesday night at Arco, the Kings played the Orlando Magic. Peterson wore a navy-blue T-shirt. Printed on the front was "#RekeROY", on the back, "The Movement."

Tyreke is the front-runner for ROY - rookie of the year. But those aforementioned numbers - 20.6, 5.1, 4.9 - could make him an A-Lister. If he finished this season with an average of 20 points, 5 rebounds, and 5 assists, he will be the fourth NBA rookie to do so, joining LeBron James, Michael Jordan, and Oscar Robertson.

Peterson said the back of the next shirt will say, "20-5-5; Biblical Proportions."

Before Tuesday night's game, as Tyreke practiced his below-average mid-range jumper (shot data has him shooting only 12.5 percent from 10-15 feet), Peterson said his charge "changes the channel" when highlights of Kings games come on ESPN.

Can this be true?

"Definitely," said teammate Beno Udrih. "He doesn't like to hear about himself because he doesn't want it to get inside his head. We all know here in this locker room what he does."

Said Tyreke: "I mean, most of the time when I have the remote, I change it. But if someone else has it, we watch it. I'm not a big fan of watching myself on TV."

That night against Orlando, he started 1 for 10 from the floor - nearly all of those misses at the rim (according to hoopdata.com, Evans leads the NBA with 8.5 at-the-rim attempts each game). He gets there with a dynamic first step - those around the Kings say it's the strongest in the NBA - and a series of moves that throw his defender off balance: a crossover, an in-and-out, an impossible-to-guard hesitation.

On Tuesday night, after missing successive drives, Tyreke walked to the bench looking very much like the 20-year-old he is - exasperated, as if not understanding why and what made those layups miss. His teammates, especially injured star Kevin Martin, tell him it's fine, it happens.

It wasn't his best night, 5 for 16 from the floor, 4 rebounds, 2 assists, 0 turnovers, 2 steals, and 18 points. The Kings were ahead, 78-76, after three quarters, but lost, 109-88.

Is there a hole in Tyreke's basketball story? Maybe he doesn't encourage his teammates? Maybe he's all about Tyreke? Maybe . . .

But there was nothing.

He pumped his fist, barely noticeable, when teammate Donte Green hit the game's opening shot, a three-pointer. He was the guy helping Thompson from the ground, early in the third. His eyes were on Westphal, sometimes glancing at the scoreboard, during each time-out.

Finally, with 2 minutes, 47 seconds left in the second quarter, Tyreke offered a glimpse.

After firing a one-handed, crosscourt pass to a streaking Green, giving his team a 54-45 lead, Tyreke turned back up court, running his tongue slowly across his upper lip as if having eaten something delicious.

Then again with 7:06 left in the third, he cleverly split two Orlando defenders, threw down a right-handed slam, and jogged back to the bench - the Magic called time-out - smiling, saying something about something.

"He didn't start the talking," Udrih explained afterward. "Everybody else starts talking and then he's like, 'Yeah, yeah, yeah, it was a good move.' "

"Every once in a while when I do something spectacular, I'll look back on it and think it was a good play," said Tyreke.

Of these two glimpses into Tyreke, Peterson laughed.

"That's more than most people get."

Tyreke is on the NBA's ground floor, its rookie proving ground. But you can feel it: He's rising to the top and the doors are shutting quickly.

Two years from now, he'll likely be on lockdown, inaccessible, like the rest of the NBA's one-name royalty.

"That's exactly what's going to happen," Peterson said. "It'll be harder, especially if he does what we're anticipating of him."

When he first moved to Sacramento, Tyreke could go where he wanted, mostly unnoticed.

Not anymore.

Things got worse when Tyreke led them back from a 35- point deficit to beat the Bulls in Chicago on Dec. 21.

Then things got nearly impossible after he hit the game-winner with 0.7 seconds against Denver at home on Saturday.

"It doesn't stop him from doing what he does," explained Peterson. "But it wears on you, because you can't do normal stuff. Like to go to the mall, you try to pick times when you figure the mall isn't packed. He can't go anywhere and not get stopped . . . and this is Sacramento . . . and he's only been here a few months."

Please don't leave.

We come to the games now because of you.

These are the things Sacramento folks have said.

Tonight, Sacramento's future returns home to Philly.

But just for one night.