Scary? The NBA playoffs aren’t scary. Scary is getting a call, when your name is Cade Cunnigham and you’re 16 years old, that you are going to be a father. Scary is having just moved away from your family, halfway across the country, to play elite high school basketball, and suddenly learning that life is no longer just about you, and that everything you planned could be derailed.
“I was terrified,” Cunningham admits. “Scared to death. I thought my world was coming down on me.”
He spent the following months balancing his sport, his high school classes and his impending fatherhood. Most players he knew who were teenaged dads, “it meant basketball was done for them.
“I wanted to keep my career alive,” Cade says, “I wanted to be able to provide for my family. I felt like (all that) was in jeopardy.
“But once I was able to actually see my daughter and hold her, it calmed me down. It was like one of the most peaceful moments. One of the best moments of my life.”
Three years later, at the NBA draft, Cade was about to be picked No.1 pick by the Pistons. And there he was, holding his little girl, Riley, in his lap, urging her to say, “Hey, NBA” into a lapel microphone.
And when his name was called, and he rose to applause, the first thing he did was kiss his daughter and murmur, “I love you more than life itself.”
“It’s crazy,” he says now, shaking his head, “how God works.”
The temptation with a 23 year-old superstar is to believe he has a lot of growing up to do. But spend any time with Cade Cunningham and you realize, like his assets on the court, maturity has come fast. There is a wisdom behind those deep, plaintive eyes that belies the absence of any bags beneath them.
There’s also a hunger to climb his professional dream chart, which begins this weekend, with his first NBA playoff game, and the Pistons’ first in six years.
Like his team, Cunningham has overcome a great deal to reach this point — injuries, losses, doubters, more losses.
“The NBA humbled me,” he admits.
Then he adds, “I’ve had enough humbling.”
Cunningham gets Pistons initiation
Babe Ruth was credited with the quote, “You can’t beat someone who never gives up.”
Cunningham embodies that.
Here is a kid bred to be a quarterback by his football-loving father, but who insisted on playing basketball, and, at 6 foot 7, being a point guard. Here is a kid who left a Texas high school in his junior year to attend Monteverde Academy in Florida, as part of a team so packed with national talent, he had to fight for minutes, despite being one of America’s best prep players.
“Our practices were way harder than our games,” Cade recalls.
He’s not exaggerating. That team, in his senior season, went 25-0 with an average margin of victory of 39 points! Cade only got 22 minutes a game on a crowded roster that also featured future NBA players Day’Ron Sharpe and Scottie Barnes. Cade rarely played in the fourth quarter.
Still, a bevy of top college teams wanted him. He had his pick of blue-blood hoops factories. But once again, he took the difficult route, choosing Oklahoma State, because, “I knew there weren’t going to be any other All-Americas going there. I also knew that if I was gonna be a top pick in the NBA, I wouldn’t be going to a championship team. So I thought Oklahoma State was a great way to prepare me for the NBA.”
He was right about OSU. Despite averaging 20.2 points a game and being named the best freshman player in the country, the Cowboys finished fifth in the Big 12 and were knocked out in the second round of the NCAA Tournament.
He was right about the Pistons, too. After arriving as the top pick in the draft, the franchise, in his first three years, lost 59, 65, and 68 games. (Cade missed most of his second season with a stress fracture injury that required surgery.)
“We lost at a level that I had never lost at in my life,” he says. “Going through that, going two months without a win, I mean, it weighs on you, on everybody. … Those were tough times, for sure, but it definitely helps you look inside and find yourself.”
What Cunningham found was that all the challenges in his life to that point had instilled a wellspring of patience. And self-belief. Despite all that losing, he insists, the game never stopped being fun for him.
“This job,” he says, smiling, “has always been the most beautiful, fun thing I could ever imagine doing for a living.”
Even losing?
“Even losing.”
Even two months’ worth of losing?
“Yeah. Crazy enough. You always think the next one is gonna be the one that you’re gonna win.”
Just call him Cade
This is a big moment for Detroit basketball. The Pistons have only made the playoffs three times in the last 16 years, always as the lowest seed, always getting swept. The last time they actually won a playoff game, in 2009, “Chauncey,” “Rip” and “Tayshaun” were the recognizable names on the roster.
Now comes Cade, who rightfully earned his first All-Star selection this year. He is poised to be the first Piston in a long time who is worthy of the first-name thing. For whatever reason, basketball is like that with its stars. Magic. Kobe. Lebron. Luka. There’s a familiarity fans love with guys who don’t wear helmets, whose exposed facial expressions tell us what they are feeling, how much fun they’re having, or how desperately they want to win.
Look for Cade’s face to reflect that last one. Through four years of waiting, he has embraced the gritty nature of Detroit, and says he is most proud not of his 26.1 scoring average, but of his 9.1 assists per game.
“I like to make the game easier for my teammates, more than anything.”
The Pistons will be counting on him to pass, score, rebound, make plays and hopefully dominate against the Knicks. He’s averaging 30.8 points against New York this season. That bodes well for Detroit’s chances.
But no matter what happens, Detroit fans should know they have found a legitimate heir to Isiah, Joe, Grant and Chauncey, a guard with soaring talent who somehow keeps his feet on the ground.
When I ask which of the old Bad Boys he might represent with the 2025 team, he grins, almost embarrassed.
“Man, I don’t know. … I don’t want to call myself Isiah Thomas, you know what I’m saying? I mean he’s Isiah Thomas. I’d love to get to that level one day.”
When I remind him that he recently told an interviewer he wanted to be “the best player in the world every day,” he nods.
“Definitely. Definitely. But the Bad Boys did it already.”
In other words, greatness comes in accomplishment, not words.
So does maturity. It’s been seven years since he took a phone call that told him it was time to put away childish things, that the most important job in the world, parenthood, was about to be thrust upon him.
Cade Cunningham is still standing, with his daughter as a huge priority in his life. He endured that passage. Endured his challenging prep and college path. Endured his injuries. Endured all that losing.
And he’s stronger for it. Scary? Nuh-uh. He’s done with scary.
“Enough humbling,” he repeats, with a grin. “Time to humble some other people.”
Whoa.
Contact Mitch Albom: [email protected]. Check out the latest updates with his charities, books and events at MitchAlbom.com. Follow him @mitchalbom.
This article originally appeared on Detroit Free Press: Albom: Pistons’ Cade Cunningham has learned to be humble, ready to soar
Scary? The NBA playoffs aren’t scary. Scary is getting a call, when your name is Cade Cunnigham and you’re 16 years old, that you are going to be a father. Scary is having just moved away from your family, halfway across the country, to play elite high school basketball, and suddenly learning that life is no longer just about you, and that everything you planned could be derailed.
“I was terrified,” Cunningham admits. “Scared to death. I thought my world was coming down on me.”
He spent the following months balancing his sport, his high school classes and his impending fatherhood. Most players he knew who were teenaged dads, “it meant basketball was done for them.
“I wanted to keep my career alive,” Cade says, “I wanted to be able to provide for my family. I felt like (all that) was in jeopardy.
“But once I was able to actually see my daughter and hold her, it calmed me down. It was like one of the most peaceful moments. One of the best moments of my life.”
Three years later, at the NBA draft, Cade was about to be picked No.1 pick by the Pistons. And there he was, holding his little girl, Riley, in his lap, urging her to say, “Hey, NBA” into a lapel microphone.
And when his name was called, and he rose to applause, the first thing he did was kiss his daughter and murmur, “I love you more than life itself.”
“It’s crazy,” he says now, shaking his head, “how God works.”
The temptation with a 23 year-old superstar is to believe he has a lot of growing up to do. But spend any time with Cade Cunningham and you realize, like his assets on the court, maturity has come fast. There is a wisdom behind those deep, plaintive eyes that belies the absence of any bags beneath them.
There’s also a hunger to climb his professional dream chart, which begins this weekend, with his first NBA playoff game, and the Pistons’ first in six years.
Like his team, Cunningham has overcome a great deal to reach this point — injuries, losses, doubters, more losses.
“The NBA humbled me,” he admits.
Then he adds, “I’ve had enough humbling.”
Cunningham gets Pistons initiation
Babe Ruth was credited with the quote, “You can’t beat someone who never gives up.”
Cunningham embodies that.
Here is a kid bred to be a quarterback by his football-loving father, but who insisted on playing basketball, and, at 6 foot 7, being a point guard. Here is a kid who left a Texas high school in his junior year to attend Monteverde Academy in Florida, as part of a team so packed with national talent, he had to fight for minutes, despite being one of America’s best prep players.
“Our practices were way harder than our games,” Cade recalls.
He’s not exaggerating. That team, in his senior season, went 25-0 with an average margin of victory of 39 points! Cade only got 22 minutes a game on a crowded roster that also featured future NBA players Day’Ron Sharpe and Scottie Barnes. Cade rarely played in the fourth quarter.
Still, a bevy of top college teams wanted him. He had his pick of blue-blood hoops factories. But once again, he took the difficult route, choosing Oklahoma State, because, “I knew there weren’t going to be any other All-Americas going there. I also knew that if I was gonna be a top pick in the NBA, I wouldn’t be going to a championship team. So I thought Oklahoma State was a great way to prepare me for the NBA.”
He was right about OSU. Despite averaging 20.2 points a game and being named the best freshman player in the country, the Cowboys finished fifth in the Big 12 and were knocked out in the second round of the NCAA Tournament.
He was right about the Pistons, too. After arriving as the top pick in the draft, the franchise, in his first three years, lost 59, 65, and 68 games. (Cade missed most of his second season with a stress fracture injury that required surgery.)
“We lost at a level that I had never lost at in my life,” he says. “Going through that, going two months without a win, I mean, it weighs on you, on everybody. … Those were tough times, for sure, but it definitely helps you look inside and find yourself.”
What Cunningham found was that all the challenges in his life to that point had instilled a wellspring of patience. And self-belief. Despite all that losing, he insists, the game never stopped being fun for him.
“This job,” he says, smiling, “has always been the most beautiful, fun thing I could ever imagine doing for a living.”
Even losing?
“Even losing.”
Even two months’ worth of losing?
“Yeah. Crazy enough. You always think the next one is gonna be the one that you’re gonna win.”
Just call him Cade
This is a big moment for Detroit basketball. The Pistons have only made the playoffs three times in the last 16 years, always as the lowest seed, always getting swept. The last time they actually won a playoff game, in 2009, “Chauncey,” “Rip” and “Tayshaun” were the recognizable names on the roster.
Now comes Cade, who rightfully earned his first All-Star selection this year. He is poised to be the first Piston in a long time who is worthy of the first-name thing. For whatever reason, basketball is like that with its stars. Magic. Kobe. Lebron. Luka. There’s a familiarity fans love with guys who don’t wear helmets, whose exposed facial expressions tell us what they are feeling, how much fun they’re having, or how desperately they want to win.
Look for Cade’s face to reflect that last one. Through four years of waiting, he has embraced the gritty nature of Detroit, and says he is most proud not of his 26.1 scoring average, but of his 9.1 assists per game.
“I like to make the game easier for my teammates, more than anything.”
The Pistons will be counting on him to pass, score, rebound, make plays and hopefully dominate against the Knicks. He’s averaging 30.8 points against New York this season. That bodes well for Detroit’s chances.
But no matter what happens, Detroit fans should know they have found a legitimate heir to Isiah, Joe, Grant and Chauncey, a guard with soaring talent who somehow keeps his feet on the ground.
When I ask which of the old Bad Boys he might represent with the 2025 team, he grins, almost embarrassed.
“Man, I don’t know. … I don’t want to call myself Isiah Thomas, you know what I’m saying? I mean he’s Isiah Thomas. I’d love to get to that level one day.”
When I remind him that he recently told an interviewer he wanted to be “the best player in the world every day,” he nods.
“Definitely. Definitely. But the Bad Boys did it already.”
In other words, greatness comes in accomplishment, not words.
So does maturity. It’s been seven years since he took a phone call that told him it was time to put away childish things, that the most important job in the world, parenthood, was about to be thrust upon him.
Cade Cunningham is still standing, with his daughter as a huge priority in his life. He endured that passage. Endured his challenging prep and college path. Endured his injuries. Endured all that losing.
And he’s stronger for it. Scary? Nuh-uh. He’s done with scary.
“Enough humbling,” he repeats, with a grin. “Time to humble some other people.”
Whoa.
Contact Mitch Albom: [email protected]. Check out the latest updates with his charities, books and events at MitchAlbom.com. Follow him @mitchalbom.
This article originally appeared on Detroit Free Press: Albom: Pistons’ Cade Cunningham has learned to be humble, ready to soar
