Memphis’s air was loaded with moisture while Jaime Morant carefully parked his sedan in the area reserved for Fedex Forum families. The familiar expectation and nervous energy surrounded her while looking in the rearview mirror. His fingers were lightly trembled while the pendant of the Mephis Grizzlies he had hung by his neck, a gift from his son, Ja, for Mother’s Day. A new layer of lipstick was applied, a nerve habit that Jaime had developed after years seeing his son play under the bright lights and the relentless look of professional basketball.
Tonight was not any party. The Memphis Grizzlies faced the elimination in the semifinals of the West Conference, and the pressure on JA had reached unprecedented levels. After a devastating fourth game in which Ja had difficulties – with only 5 of 21 field shots and six ball losses – the sports press had been implacable, questioning if he was really ready to lead a franchise. But Jaime knew his son better than anyone. Behind his Matses electrizers and his safe arrogance was a young man who carried the weight of an entire city on his shoulders, a young man who kept calling her after each game, regardless of the result.
While Jaime was heading to his seat (Section 112, Row C, Seat 5, the same place he had occupied in each home game since JA was selected in the draft), he nodded the known faces: relatives of other players and staff members who had become a second family, especially during the difficult months after her husband’s heart attack last year.
“Mrs. Morant, I’m glad to see her,” Marcus greeted her, the lifelong accommodator who always made sure she had a cup of fresh sweet tea waiting for her in her seat. “Good evening, Marcus. How do you go to your grandson in Tennessee State? Has it been on the Dean’s list again? Basketball scholarships are paying off?” Jaime asked with a smile.
Marcus smiled proudly. «Yes, ma’am. He is working hard ».
Jaime settled in his seat just when the players went to warm up. He recognized Ja immediately: his slender body moved with that fluid and distinctive grace that had fascinated the scouts since his days in Murray State. He performed his routine prior to the party methodically, launching from his favorite points of the court. When she looked towards the stands, she made a sign, a small gesture that they shared since her time as a high school student. He nodded almost imperceptibly before heating again.
The game began with the intensity expected of a playoff tie. Each possession was fiercely disputed, and the advantage changed hands several times during the first quarter. Ja began with caution, aware of the ball losses that had afflicted him in the previous match. At the break, the Grizzlies lost for seven points, with ja scoring only six points, although their five assists kept the attack in progress.
While the teams were heading to the changing rooms, Jaime perceived the tension on his son’s shoulders and the frustration evident in his walk. The third quarter was a disaster. The opposite team chained a streak of 14-2, expanding its advantage to 19 points. The public was impatient, and some boos resonated at the stadium when Ja failed an open tray, his third consecutive failed shot.
Then, three minutes from the end of the third quarter, Ja went to the basket and crashed hard with the rival pivot. He fell to the ground clutching his ankle. The stadium was silent while the medical staff ran to the court. Jaime’s heart beat strongly. Images of the previous injuries of Ja crossed his mind: the knee sprain that had left him out of the courts last weeks last season, the brain shock protocol that had kept him out of crucial matches.
When Ja headed for the bench instead of the locker room, he exhaled slightly. But seeing him a grimace of pain while the coach examined his ankle made him cry. She tried to maintain her composure, but the accumulated stress – her husband’s health problems, the financial pressure of medical invoices and now see her son suffer while supporting the expectations of a whole franchise – overwhelmed her.
A nearby camera captured his moment of vulnerability: his hands covering his face while tears ran down his cheeks. The giant screen showed his image briefly before disappearing, but not before he looked up and saw his mother’s anguish. Something changed in its expression. The ankle pain seemed to forget when he got up, fireding the coach with his hand. He approached the coach, gesturing with emphasis. After a brief conversation, he returned to the party, with his eyes lit by a renewed determination.
At the moment he returned to the game, the energy in the Fedex Forum was transformed. In his first possession, he scored a triple with a step back that reduced the difference to 14. In the next defensive sequence, he sneaked into the pass line to steal a ball and culminated with a spectacular overturned to a hand that put the public standing.
Jaime watched with tears in his eyes how his son played with an intensity he had not seen since his university days in Murray State. It was not only his annotation, but how he raised his teammates, finding them for open shots and communicating constantly in defense. At the end of the third quarter, the 19 -point disadvantage had been reduced to seven.
While the teams grouped before the final period, Ja looked directly at his mother and placed his hand on his heart, his private signal since he was a child who played in youth leagues.
The last quarter became a legend for Memphis. Ja scored 16 points, distributed four assists and captured three crucial rebounds. With 30 seconds and the Grizzlies winning by two, he made the defensive play of the game: a plug to the star base of the opposite team that maintained the advantage.
When the final horn sounded, the Grizzlies had completed a remarkable comeback. The crowd exploded in jubilation, but Ja did not join the team’s celebration immediately. Instead, he walked directly to the band, climbed to the stands and hugged his mother.
“I have you, mom,” he whispered in his ear while the cameras captured his hug. “Always”.
The moment became viral almost instantly.
But what the public did not see was what happened later.
After the press conference after the match, where Ja avoided the questions about his personal heroism to praise his teammates, he asked the director of community relations of the team to stay.
“I need to organize something,” he said quietly. Something important.
The next morning, while sports programs repeated the outstanding moments of their performance in the last quarter, Ja was sitting in the office of the Financial Director of the Grizzlies, working on the details of a new foundation, dedicated to supporting families of patients with heart disease in the Memphis area.
“I want to call it the Memphis Heart Foundation,” Ja explained, focusing on covering the medical expenses of families that cannot pay the treatment.
“It’s an important commitment, Ja,” warned the financial advisor. “Only initial financing will be substantial.”
“I know what it means for my mom to see my dad spend trouble and worry about invoices,” Ja replied firmly. “I’m going to invest 2 million dollars from my next contract extension to start.”
That same afternoon, Ja led to the modest house of his parents on the outskirts of Memphis. They had refused to move to something more luxurious despite their success in the NBA, preferring to stay in the community where they had forged relations for years.
He found his mother in the kitchen preparing the healthy dinner for his father.
“You didn’t have to come today,” he said, cleaning his hands in the apron. “You should be resting that ankle before the sixth game.”
“The ankle is fine, mom,” he replied, leaning on the counter. But I need to talk to you and with dad about something.
When his father joined them at the kitchen table, Ja slipped a folder.
“What is this?” His father asked while looking for his glasses to read.
“The procedures for the Memphis Heart Foundation,” Ja explained, “will help families with heart disease to cover medical expenses and provide support services.”
His mother’s eyes widened while leafing through the documents.
“This is incredible, but it must cost …”
“Don’t worry about the price,” Jan interrupted gently. The important thing is that no other family has to go through what we were going through: wondering how to pay the treatment while trying to concentrate on their recovery.
His father, a man of few words who had taught Ja the value of the actions on the words, simply leaned on the table and grabbed his son’s hand strongly.
“His first meeting of the Board of Directors is next week,” Ja continued. Both are founding members, together with Dr. Reynolds, of the Methodist cardiology unit.
While his mother processed the information, with tears forming again in his eyes, Ja added: “And I have made arrangements so that the next three years of Dad’s treatments are completely covered through a special agreement with the hospital.”
