Kings' Salmons is his own man

John Salmons was his own man even as a boy.

As a scrawny ninth-grader at Plymouth-Whitemarsh High School, the quiet-as-a-mouse kid from Philadelphia had been handed the first challenge of his basketball career. When he wanted to make the early leap to the junior varsity, he spoke up for once, making the polite request to then-varsity assistant Jim D'Onofrio. He was told his left-handed layup was nothing short of awful, and that only players who had two hands were suited for that level. Thus, the directive.

So the pounding began on the street outside the Moore family's suburban home in Plymouth Meeting, Pa., where Salmons was far removed from Philly's grittiest neighborhoods and the family that had taken him in was inside while he worked.

"We had a basketball court outside in the driveway, and John would start from the opposite side of the street, dribble all the way with his left hand until he made a left-handed layup and do that for at least two hours every night," said Chuck Moore, his closest friend and former high school teammate. "I was inside watching TV and doing whatever I was doing, and he was out there pounding the ball. … With that drive and determination, I was like, 'This kid's going to make it, and he's going to be special.' "

Salmons always has moved to the beat of his own dribble.

When the Kings small forward was just 8 and still living with his mother, Sandra, in a small brick home in North Philadelphia, he would skip track practice to escape to Finley Recreation Center and be alone with the blacktop. The court was a quick right turn out his front door and just a few bounce passes down East Sharpnack Street. Salmons would slither through a hole in the chain-link fence just to work on the game that drew him in.

When his mother's decision to send her only child out of the city and into the suburbs for high school paid off with a state championship and scholarship offers, he shunned powerhouse colleges, including Kansas, for a Miami program that simply didn't compare. Four years of historic success later (the Hurricanes were 86-39 with him), Salmons entered the NBA with his hometown 76ers after they traded for the 26th pick on draft night in 2002.

When Salmons, then a restricted free agent, could choose his path out of frustration after four seasons (and five coaches) in Philadelphia in 2006, he kept two organizations dangling (Toronto and Phoenix) before backing out of a sign-and-trade deal with the Raptors to join the Kings. The move left even the most loyal members of his inner circle – not to mention basketball fans nationwide – shaking their heads in disbelief.

"It's not like he had just had a four-year run like Kobe (Bryant)," an exasperated D'Onofrio said recently from his classroom at Plymouth-Whitemarsh. "People locally and in his inner circle are thinking, 'Is he crazy?' But he is going to do what's right for John Salmons, come hell or high water. And that's what he did. He is going to do what makes sense for him."

Faith has guided him

The first man in Salmons' life had shared nothing more than a name with his son. John Salmons Sr. owned taverns in the Philadelphia area, meaning he wasn't home much even before he disappeared.

But Salmons, a devout Christian and teetotaler, found ways to fill the void when his father left for good just before he entered junior high school. He was, and remains, extremely close with his mother, Sandra. A nurse's aid while Salmons was growing up, she was the one who called the Moores one day to ask if her son could live with them as a way of attending Plymouth-Whitemarsh instead of the local Martin Luther King High School. While they lived in a somewhat serene lower-middle class neighborhood, changing schools put him at distance from some of the city's worst neighborhoods that were just blocks away. Salmons also grew close to his stepfather, Douglas Lillie, and Chuck Moore Sr., and eventually would call them father figures.

Yet Salmons said it wasn't until he watched his son grow day by day that he began to realize the impact of his father being gone. With his son, Josiah, approaching his first birthday and Salmons a happy family man with his wife, Taneisha, his perspective has changed.

(sacbee.com)