[h=1]Anthony Mason Fulfilled a Dream That All Too Many Have[/h] <time class="dateline" datetime="2015-03-01">MARCH 1, 2015</time>
Sports of The Times
By WILLIAM C. RHODEN
Anthony Mason was one in a million: a caring son, a loving father, a loyal friend and brother.
For those of us involved in athletics, and especially with youth sports, “one in a million” also refers to a person who actually achieves the dream of becoming a professional athlete.
The biblical passage “for many are invited, but few are chosen” has wide application. It is especially relevant to the millions who, despite family connections, hours of training and private tutors, will not fulfill a childhood dream of being paid to play games.
They will not become that one in a million. Anthony Mason did.
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</aside> Tributes to Mason, who died early Saturday at age 48, three weeks after being hospitalized with congestive heart failure, referred to his brawn and his toughness. The core of his being went much deeper. Mason, an undersize and overachieving power forward for 13 pro seasons with six teams, including the Knicks, possessed a tenacity that was embedded in his soul for as long as I can remember. That goes back to March 1983.
<figure id="media-100000003544216" class="media photo embedded has-adjacency has-lede-adjacency layout-large-vertical media-100000003544216" data-media-action="modal" itemprop="associatedMedia" itemscope="" itemid="http://static01.nyt.com/images/2015/03/02/sports/02RHODEN/02RHODEN-blog427.jpg" itemtype="http://schema.org/ImageObject" role="group"> Photo
<figcaption class="caption" itemprop="caption description"> In 1993, Anthony Mason, then of the Knicks, offered tips to young fans at a benefit for an AIDS foundation. Mason died Saturday at 48. Credit The New York Times </figcaption> </figure> After working in the Week in Review section of The New York Times, I came to sports just in time for the Public Schools Athletic League playoffs. There were a number of powerhouse teams and great players in the city that year.
By March, Mason’s Springfield Gardens team from Queens was listing. There was resentment and jealousy, mainly over playing time. Finally, Rich Anderson, a senior known as Radar who was the star of the team, called a meeting just before the playoffs. Some players complained about the attention Anderson had been getting. Mason, in his typically straightforward manner, expressed his unhappiness with coming off the bench as the sixth man.
“He thought he should have been starting, and he probably should have been,” Anderson told me in a 1994 interview as Mason and the Knicks were beginning their playoff run toward the N.B.A. finals.
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</aside> Shannon Greer, a senior who had been on the Springfield Gardens team longer than Mason, got the starting nod. Everyone acknowledged that Mason was the superior player, but he was an invaluable reserve, delivering a knockout blow from the bench.
Ultimately, the Springfield Gardens players realized what every championship team and organization realizes: Everyone has a role. Someone has to be the headliner, someone has to be the face of a great story. It’s no reflection on your worth as a human being if that person is not you.
Everyone hoists the trophy. At the end of the day, what matters is how much you believe in yourself and how tenaciously you pursue your dream.
Mason accepted his role as a sixth man, scowling all the way to a city championship, defeating a couple of star-studded teams along the way.
I looked over my articles from that season and found few references to Mason, but clearly he was the intimidating muscle behind his team’s championship run.
Springfield Gardens advanced to the state title game, losing to North Babylon, which was led by a high school all-American named Russell Pierre, who went on to North Carolina State, and a wide-bodied big man named Derek Brower, who went to Syracuse.
<figure class="media slideshow promo embedded has-adjacency layout-large-vertical" id="slideshow-100000003508089" data-media-action="modal" role="group" itemprop="associatedMedia" itemscope="" itemid="http://static01.nyt.com/images/2015/02/13/sports/basketball/MASONOBIT-slide-B6D0/MASONOBIT-slide-B6D0-jumbo.jpg" itemtype="http://schema.org/ImageObject">
[h=5]Slide Show[/h]
<figcaption class="caption" itemprop="description"> [h=4]A Gritty Fan Favorite[/h] CreditMichelle V. Agins/The New York Times
</figcaption> </figure> Also playing in the city at the time were Mark Jackson of Bishop Loughlin in Brooklyn, who went on to St. John’s, where he had a spectacular career; Kenny Smith of Archbishop Molloy in Queens, who went to North Carolina, where he was equally spectacular; and Pearl Washington of Boys and Girls in Brooklyn, who was pretty spectacular at Syracuse.
After his senior year, Mason went off to Tennessee State, and eventually — after stops in Turkey, the Continental Basketball Association and the United States Basketball League — joined Smith and Jackson in the N.B.A.
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</aside>Those who appeared to be ahead of Mason on his high school team saw their stars fade.
Anderson, hindered by poor grades, accepted a scholarship to Lee College in Baytown, Tex. Two years later, he went to Texas Tech, but he gave up on his dream after one semester.
Anderson’s description of what happened is typical of the thousands who try to reach the sports mountaintop.
“I came home for semester break and I didn’t want to go back,” he recalled in 1994. “ I told my mother that I just didn’t want to play this game anymore.
“I think it might have been me coming to reality, always dreaming that you want to be a pro, then thinking, Maybe I might not be good enough.”
Anderson’s perspective on Mason and the relatively few who reach the mountaintop was equally typical in that interview. Anderson thought back on that 1983 team meeting and realized that Mason was speaking not out of selfishness, but an unwavering sense of inner confidence.
“Some people drive to go further,” Anderson said in 1994. “Some people get intimidated and back away. Mason didn’t give up where a lot of us did. He kept going. He believed in himself. And he made it.”
Matthew 22:14 reminds us that many are invited, but few are chosen.
In the midst of their sorrow, the Mason family might derive some comfort from knowing that their son, their father, their friend was invited, and he was chosen.
Sports of The Times
By WILLIAM C. RHODEN
Anthony Mason was one in a million: a caring son, a loving father, a loyal friend and brother.
For those of us involved in athletics, and especially with youth sports, “one in a million” also refers to a person who actually achieves the dream of becoming a professional athlete.
The biblical passage “for many are invited, but few are chosen” has wide application. It is especially relevant to the millions who, despite family connections, hours of training and private tutors, will not fulfill a childhood dream of being paid to play games.
They will not become that one in a million. Anthony Mason did.
<aside class="marginalia related-coverage-marginalia nocontent robots-nocontent" data-marginalia-type="sprinkled" role="complementary">
</aside> Tributes to Mason, who died early Saturday at age 48, three weeks after being hospitalized with congestive heart failure, referred to his brawn and his toughness. The core of his being went much deeper. Mason, an undersize and overachieving power forward for 13 pro seasons with six teams, including the Knicks, possessed a tenacity that was embedded in his soul for as long as I can remember. That goes back to March 1983.
<figure id="media-100000003544216" class="media photo embedded has-adjacency has-lede-adjacency layout-large-vertical media-100000003544216" data-media-action="modal" itemprop="associatedMedia" itemscope="" itemid="http://static01.nyt.com/images/2015/03/02/sports/02RHODEN/02RHODEN-blog427.jpg" itemtype="http://schema.org/ImageObject" role="group"> Photo
<figcaption class="caption" itemprop="caption description"> In 1993, Anthony Mason, then of the Knicks, offered tips to young fans at a benefit for an AIDS foundation. Mason died Saturday at 48. Credit The New York Times </figcaption> </figure> After working in the Week in Review section of The New York Times, I came to sports just in time for the Public Schools Athletic League playoffs. There were a number of powerhouse teams and great players in the city that year.
By March, Mason’s Springfield Gardens team from Queens was listing. There was resentment and jealousy, mainly over playing time. Finally, Rich Anderson, a senior known as Radar who was the star of the team, called a meeting just before the playoffs. Some players complained about the attention Anderson had been getting. Mason, in his typically straightforward manner, expressed his unhappiness with coming off the bench as the sixth man.
“He thought he should have been starting, and he probably should have been,” Anderson told me in a 1994 interview as Mason and the Knicks were beginning their playoff run toward the N.B.A. finals.
<aside class="marginalia collection-marginalia collection collection-type-column collection-tone-feature collection-section-sports collection-theme-latest-headlines nocontent robots-nocontent" role="complementary">
</aside> Shannon Greer, a senior who had been on the Springfield Gardens team longer than Mason, got the starting nod. Everyone acknowledged that Mason was the superior player, but he was an invaluable reserve, delivering a knockout blow from the bench.
Ultimately, the Springfield Gardens players realized what every championship team and organization realizes: Everyone has a role. Someone has to be the headliner, someone has to be the face of a great story. It’s no reflection on your worth as a human being if that person is not you.
Everyone hoists the trophy. At the end of the day, what matters is how much you believe in yourself and how tenaciously you pursue your dream.
Mason accepted his role as a sixth man, scowling all the way to a city championship, defeating a couple of star-studded teams along the way.
I looked over my articles from that season and found few references to Mason, but clearly he was the intimidating muscle behind his team’s championship run.
Springfield Gardens advanced to the state title game, losing to North Babylon, which was led by a high school all-American named Russell Pierre, who went on to North Carolina State, and a wide-bodied big man named Derek Brower, who went to Syracuse.
<figure class="media slideshow promo embedded has-adjacency layout-large-vertical" id="slideshow-100000003508089" data-media-action="modal" role="group" itemprop="associatedMedia" itemscope="" itemid="http://static01.nyt.com/images/2015/02/13/sports/basketball/MASONOBIT-slide-B6D0/MASONOBIT-slide-B6D0-jumbo.jpg" itemtype="http://schema.org/ImageObject">
<figcaption class="caption" itemprop="description"> [h=4]A Gritty Fan Favorite[/h] CreditMichelle V. Agins/The New York Times
</figcaption> </figure> Also playing in the city at the time were Mark Jackson of Bishop Loughlin in Brooklyn, who went on to St. John’s, where he had a spectacular career; Kenny Smith of Archbishop Molloy in Queens, who went to North Carolina, where he was equally spectacular; and Pearl Washington of Boys and Girls in Brooklyn, who was pretty spectacular at Syracuse.
After his senior year, Mason went off to Tennessee State, and eventually — after stops in Turkey, the Continental Basketball Association and the United States Basketball League — joined Smith and Jackson in the N.B.A.
<aside style="display: block;" class="marginalia comments-marginalia selected-comment-marginalia" data-marginalia-type="sprinkled" data-skip-to-para-id="story-continues-6">
</aside>Those who appeared to be ahead of Mason on his high school team saw their stars fade.
Anderson, hindered by poor grades, accepted a scholarship to Lee College in Baytown, Tex. Two years later, he went to Texas Tech, but he gave up on his dream after one semester.
Anderson’s description of what happened is typical of the thousands who try to reach the sports mountaintop.
“I came home for semester break and I didn’t want to go back,” he recalled in 1994. “ I told my mother that I just didn’t want to play this game anymore.
“I think it might have been me coming to reality, always dreaming that you want to be a pro, then thinking, Maybe I might not be good enough.”
Anderson’s perspective on Mason and the relatively few who reach the mountaintop was equally typical in that interview. Anderson thought back on that 1983 team meeting and realized that Mason was speaking not out of selfishness, but an unwavering sense of inner confidence.
“Some people drive to go further,” Anderson said in 1994. “Some people get intimidated and back away. Mason didn’t give up where a lot of us did. He kept going. He believed in himself. And he made it.”
Matthew 22:14 reminds us that many are invited, but few are chosen.
In the midst of their sorrow, the Mason family might derive some comfort from knowing that their son, their father, their friend was invited, and he was chosen.
