Andre Jones dunks at the Muncie Fieldhouse Thursday, Nov. 19, 2015.
Muncie Central’s boys basketball team practices in the school’s gym on Monday as they prepare for the upcoming season.
Andre Jones dunks at the Muncie Fieldhouse Thursday, Nov. 19, 2015.
Andre Jones began the day that changed his life as if he would any other morning off from school. He showered and sat in his room, trying to pass the two hours until basketball practice. Jones normally walks the two blocks to Scecina High School in Indianapolis, where all of his best friends are. But on this December day in 2014, he wouldn’t be making that walk.
The phone rang that morning, and his father, Anthony Jones – already at his job as a quality engineer for Mursix Corporation for nearly five hours by this time – was on the other line. Andre had an idea this conversation was coming, but in that moment, he was speechless. About the decision his parents had just made and were about to inform him of, he would later say, “When it happened, it was just as much of a shock as it would have been if I moved to Alaska.”
For the past few weeks, Anthony and Andre’s mother, Amy Irwin, had been talking a lot. They always talked a lot, but now it was different. This was about what was at stake for Andre. They divorced when Andre was just three years old, and though Andre lived with his mom, dad remained a central figure in his son’s life, even 60-some miles away in Muncie.
Andre just listened as Anthony outlined what was going to happen. This was two adults making a decision for their child, and the 16-year-old was powerless. Anthony, by this time, had hopped in his car and on his way to Indianapolis to pick Andre up and head to practice, just as he had planned when he woke up and showered. But once there, he wasn’t going to be throwing down dunks and blocking shots.
ECI BOYS BASKETBALL PRESEASON COVERAGE
He was going to say goodbye.
The only non-senior starter on a Scecina team billed as a serious contender in Class 2A, the 6-foot-5 forward with the 42-inch vertical leap had been thriving – on the court. Liable to go off for a double-double on any given night, Andre was a legit college prospect on a legit team. This was what he had dreamed about since he could walk. To this day, he still has a video of himself dunking on a Little Tykes hoop when he was three years old.
Away from basketball, though, was another story. It wasn’t anything major and it didn’t have anything to do with Scecina, Anthony and Amy insist now, but they detected small signs in Andre’s behavior that set off alarms, like not addressing adults as ‘Yes, ma’am’ or ‘Yes, sir.’ The biggest problem was a lack of focus in the classroom, and that was a problem because Andre is a smart kid. Amy didn’t let him play basketball his freshman year because after nine weeks, he had a C and a D. “That broke his heart to not play – and mine too – but I’ve always felt education is most important thing,” she says. “That’s not just something you say, it’s the truth.”
So two years after Amy made that decision, the single parents made another decision: Andre needed a change. He needed his dad. And that meant bidding a tearful farewell to the teammates he had grown close to through AAU and the high school team.
Upon leaving Scecina, Jones stopped at his former home for two pairs of basketball shoes, his basketball and his PlayStation 3 and started the drive to Muncie, a new life ahead of him.
Andre Jones with his father at the Muncie Fieldhouse Thursday, Nov. 20, 2015.
Muncie-bound
Andre lived in Muncie until second grade before moving to Indianapolis, but because both parents had family in Muncie, he spent a lot of time in town during the summer. His dad would make him sausage and pancakes for breakfast, then they’d spend the day working out and shooting at Heekin Park or McCulloch Park. One of the rims at McCulloch was a little lower, the perfect training ground for Andre to practice his jump shot with proper form – and later to work on his dunking, which he did for the first time in eighth grade.
So when he got back to Muncie, Andre closed himself off from the outside world. He didn’t leave the house, unless it was to go to his aunt’s house or to work on his jump shot at the YMCA. Anthony actually insisted that they go to the YMCA in New Castle rather than in Muncie to avoid running into people who might speculate as to what was going on with their family. Because when people realized he wasn’t with Scecina at its Christmas tournament in Richmond, the rumors started to fly.
“It was a family decision and the reasons behind it wasn’t something that we were going to open up to other people,” Anthony says. “The reasons, we felt justified for the young man more than anything else.”
Rumors swirled on Twitter. Some figured he’d wind up at Central, a historic program in need of a big man. Others guessed that “Blake Griffin was coming to Yorktown,” a common nickname for Andre given their similar skin tone, curly hair and jumping ability. The connection most people made, though, was to Wapahani, where Anthony attended with the Raiders current coach, Matt Luce. Plus, Andre went to school in Selma for a year, so he was a little familiar with some of the people, including former star Grant Evans.
But what no one seemed to realize was that this wasn’t some grand plan centered around where Andre would play basketball. He already had a great situation at Scecina. If he were still there now, in fact, it’d be his team.
“Everyone said I was (moving) to play for a certain coach,” Andre says. “But at that point, I had been at Scecina for two years, I’d had a group of best friends that I still hang out with every time I go to Indy. If it was my choice, that’d be a pretty hard choice for me to leave the people I grew up with.”
Andre Jones dunks against Hamilton Heights in sectional play last season.
Welcome to Central
Jeff Holloway graduated from Central the same year that Anthony Jones graduated from Wapahani. The two didn’t play against each other in high school except on the playground, but Holloway knew Anthony’s reputation. “He was tough, hard-nosed – the ultimate teammate, the ultimate competitor,” he says. But the two didn’t have much of a relationship outside of that.
So when Holloway walked down the hall on the first day of class after winter vacation, he was excited to hear the rumors were true: Andre was enrolling at Central. It would be several games before Andre was cleared by the IHSAA (Commissioner Bobby Cox told the Indianapolis Star that Andre was eligible under Rule 19-6. 1b, which allows eligibility when a student moves between separated or divorced parents), but he endeared himself to his teammates even before he gained full eligibility.
“I remember first practice, the first thing he did,” teammate Trenton Hatfield recalls. “… He had his practice gear on for the first time and then, we’re all like, ‘Dre, dunk, dunk.’ Because we heard, that’s what he’s well-known for. So he goes and throws it off the board, windmill.
“Oh, OK,” Hatfield continues, shaking his head. “We’re all just speechless.
“Then we just went among practice like it was just another practice. He came in business-like, and that’s what we liked about him. He got things done.”
His first dunk came against Connersville when Casey Thompson tipped a ball and Hatfield picked it up and threw it ahead to him. “Some kid was trying to chase me down,” Andre says. “Hearing the crowd, it was a good feeling. It was almost like it was slow motion. That was the moment.”
From then on, he was a Bearcat. Holloway points out that it was clear to him early that Andre would have no trouble fitting in. He refused to speak to the media initially so as not to draw any extra attention to himself. His teammates, in turn, over-passed to try to get him involved. They took the time to pull him aside and point out specific things within Central’s offense that Andre had to learn.
Andre averaged 11.8 points and 7.8 rebounds in 12 games, and even he was surprised how quickly his teammates accepted him.
“It wasn’t as hard as people would think it would be,” the team’s leading scorer, Phillip Corthen, says.
For the Bearcats, no, it wasn’t. But 60 miles away in Indianapolis, it was every bit as hard.
Andre Jones, left, with Jaz, Kingsley and mother Amy Irwin.
Harsh new reality
After she got off the phone with Andre’s father that December day, Amy Irwin didn’t have time to think of what her decision meant. She needed to spring into action. The regional property manager in Indianapolis left work to get everything squared away with Andre.
This wasn’t an easy decision, partly because Irwin loved Scecina and all the opportunities there. The class sizes were small, about 10-12 students. The teachers were very involved. When any academic issue came up, she got a phone call. The faculty looked out for Andre.
But Irwin had been thinking about the possibility since early in the fall, and she prayed about it. When the time came, she didn’t process it right away as she had to handle all of the paperwork at the school since she was the one who registered him. Finally when she was sitting with a guidance counselor, she started crying. “I know it was my decision,” she says, “but it was so, so hard.”
Irwin knew she’d have to let Andre go the next year when he went off to college, but by then it might be too late. She needed to make sure Andre was ready to be a man, and to be a man on his own. For that, she felt like he needed a male influence.
“I’m the first to say I don’t know everything a dad knows. Being a 16-year old boy, he needed his dad,” she says. “It broke my heart like you can’t imagine, but I wanted to make the decision best for Andre.”
Andre Jones and his mother, Amy Irwin.
She pauses and lets that sinks in, before continuing.
“Ugh, it was terrible for me,” she says. “But, you always want what is best for your child in the long run.”
What was best for Andre wasn’t necessarily what was best for her. “That speaks to who she is,” Anthony says. “She made the choice that was in his best interest, not her best interest. That’s the truth. She was very unselfish.”
Her two children from another relationship, 10-year-old Jaz and 3-year-old Kingsley, looked up to Andre. “Andre was an integral part of our home,” she says. “… There’s not too many high school boys who would stay at home with their little brother and littler sister on a Friday night, but he would. Not because he has to, because he wants to.”
Irwin broke the news to Jaz and Kingsley. While Kingsley was only two at the time and didn’t understand what was going on, Jaz fully comprehended that his big brother was moving. Though Anthony treats Jaz as if he were his own son and always welcomes him into his home, Jaz was very upset.
One theory that floated around was that something had happened between Andre and Irwin, but he insists that couldn’t be further from the truth.
“There was nothing that she did wrong,” he says. “She raised me right, in everything that she did. And I know it was really hard for her to let me go, but as far as a responsibility of me helping myself… this is something a man has to take care of.
“At times, I know she felt like it was her fault that I had to leave, and that was one of the hardest conversations I had to have. Just getting her to understand that it wasn’t her. Even now, she still questions it. But I never argue with her, she’s great.”
Life is no different now, 11 months later. It’s still hard. Andre tries to see his mother every weekend, but sometimes it’s just not possible. She has every intention of not missing a game this season. She only missed one last season.
“If anything helped get me through it,” she says, “it was that we had Andre’s best interest at heart.”
Andre Jones dunks at the Muncie Fieldhouse Thursday, Nov. 19, 2015.
It’s home now
As he walked down the track in his blue suede sports coat, matching blue shoes and purple shirt, it was easy to mistake Andre Jones for a senior who had spent his entire life in Muncie. There he was in September, one of four male students chosen to be on Homecoming Court, waving to the crowd at halftime of Central’s football game against Richmond.
Life is much calmer now. In the fall, Andre accepted a scholarship offer from St. Francis in Fort Wayne to play in college. He’s gearing up for a senior season in which the Bearcats are expected to do more than just end a streak of three straight losing seasons. And Andre has crafted a reputation in his short time in Muncie.
“In the stands, teacher after teacher and parent after parent came up to me during games (last season), remarking how polite he is,” Irwin says. “For me, that’s all you can dream of and what you want to hear.”
The first official day of practice was Nov. 9, and 40 or so kids gathered in the high school gym for tryouts. There were so many that Holloway had to split them up into two groups. Andre was all smiles, even though he later admitted he was anxious to get out and run instead of going through the monotonous first-day drills every team goes through. But he looked comfortable, at peace. The only thing that seemed out of place was his green undershirt, which didn’t exactly match the purple practice gear.
Near the end of practice, Andre finally got a chance to stretch his wings. In a 3-on-3 drill meant to emphasize defensive rotations, Jamel Barnes drove right and then lofted a ball at the rim. Out of nowhere, Jones soared through the lane and flushed it home. The freshmen, perhaps seeing this up close for the first time, gasped.
Barnes flashed a quick grin, perhaps pleased with himself for delivering the perfect pass. But it quickly disappeared. Hatfield stood on the left wing and Corthen at the top of the key; neither so much as blinked. They’d seen Jones do this so many times in the 44 weeks they’d been teammates. These assaults on the rim don’t register on the Richter scale anymore, not like they did last January anyway.
“Now I have to do something crazy just to get a reaction out of them,” Andre says. “They’ve come a long way since the first practice.”
So has the man they call “Dre.”
He walked away from the rim he had just rocked, expressionless. The next play awaited. His senior year, free from drama and distraction, awaited.
Contact sports features writer Ryan O’Gara at (765) 213-5829. Follow him on Twitter @RyanOGaraTSP.
Andre Jones dunks at the Muncie Fieldhouse Thursday, Nov. 19, 2015.