Everybody knows Jackie by one name.

How do you not know Earl Lloyd's legacy?

Earl always deflected to Jackie because Jackie broke the color barrier in baseball.

I always told Earl, you know, you went through the same hardships and troubles.

Just to say, you know, 1950, that when they were traveling to these cities... Some of the cities you went to, you couldn't stay at the same hotel.

Some of the cities he did go to, he could stay at the hotel, but he couldn't eat with his teammates.

My father grew up dirt poor, and that was in Virginia.

How a small black kid from Alexandria, Virginia, made it to the Basketball Hall of Fame.

And you don't make it by yourself.

You have a lot of handprints on you along the way That- they showed you how to do it.

You grew up- Jim Crow, to the CIAA From the CIAA to the NBA.

And you have rules, things you can do, things you cannot do.

And my father knew the rules, and he followed the rules quite well.

After his sophomore year, which is when they went undefeated, they were there.

That was 1948.

They were the only team in college basketball at any level.

That was undefeated.

They were 30, you know, thought they were going to get an invite to the NIT because back then the NIT was bigger.

Or just as big as the NCAA tournament.

And so they thought they were going to get a bid to the NIT.

They did not, because it was a black school.

And the undefeated season was 1948.

They gave my father's team, the Black National Championship Award.

And so he and his team and Mark Cardwell did what they called a barnstorming tour, and they took train all the way out to California and played Saint Mary's - White School - in the the Cow Palace.

Right?

They then went on to play, I think, in a penitentiary against the team there as well.

And so, you know, Earl and those guys, you know, kind of exuded what, you know, they needed to show other teams to be.

And so Earl used to say when they would be coming back from road trips, when they saw that water tower, they knew they were safe because this was their safe haven, was this campus.

And so when they saw the water tower, all is good.

We're home.

I'd be remiss not to mention Chuck Cooper and Sweetwater Clifton, because in 1950, you know, they kicked the door open together.

And when my father's playing in the 50s, and I'm sure for Chuck Cooper and Sweetwater Clifton also, it was rough.

In 1950 they only had eight teams and ten people on the team, which means my father was proud of any players that that made the league.

He was one of them.

You know, you only got three players, three blacks in the NBA.

You go to some rough towns Fort Wayne, Indiana, Saint Louis, Boston.

Well, you hear all kinds of things.

He had no problem with his teammates open arms, open arms.

It was just the crowd.

Spectators.

My father told me his first game in Rochester, New York.

The Washington Capitals were playing the Rochester Royals in one.

One fan said to the other fan, with my grandparents right next to me.

"Do you think this 'N-word' can play?"

And my grandmother touched the other guy like "Believe me, he can play."

But it was rough.

When they started playing, when my father heard the N-word or somebody spit on my father.

you know, he had to keep his composure.

Because if he went into the stands, and hit somebody or grabbed somebody... he may have said NBA back by ten years, 15 years, you never know.

He said his mentality was, "I got to do what I got to do to make this team."

That's what I've got to, you know, figure out what do I have to do to make this team to make an impact in these practices, to where they got to say, I got to keep Earl Lloyd on this team.

And so he did that with his, you know, hard play and rebounding and defending and those things.

The way the schedule fell, Earl, October 31st, 1950, was the first black player to step foot on an NBA basketball court during a game.

He got drafted into the Army.

When he gets out, he gets picked up by the Syracuse Nationals.

Really because of George King.

George King played at Maurice Harvey at the time.

Earl and George King never met each other while they were both on these two campuses.

Eight miles apart.

Never met each other.

But George was playing for the Syracuse Nationals at the time, and George told the administration, "Hey, Earl, Lloyd's available.

That's who you need to pick up."

We need to pick up Earl Lloyd.

And so it's kind of ironic that those two played so close together.

Never met each other, never spoke, never played against each other, but then in the professional ranks became teammates and became friends.

And so that's where Earl and a guy by the name of Jim Tucker in 1955, become the first two black players to win an NBA championship was with the Syracuse Nationals.

Nationals.

He finished his career with the Detroit Pistons.

The head coach at the time wanted him to be an assistant coach.

He was the first bench coach, full time head coach because the year before that, Bill Russell was a player slash coach.

But Earl was the first full time head coach in the NBA.

We brought Earl back in 2004 to retire his jersey.

And, you know, he played here from 1946 to 1950.

I really felt like Earl taught me a lot about, you know, controlling the controllables, and enjoying life outside of that.

Because as a coach, a lot of times, you know, when you lose, the world's falling in.

You know, that's the way you feel for at least a day or two.

But Earl kind of showed that, you know, there's more things in life than just a basketball game.

And whether you win or lose.

And so, you know, that's probably, you know, what I would take from him and, you know, one of his main things, and he always had huge hands, I mean, huge hands.

He had a big ol finger.

And he would always wag that finger when he was talking, you know, especially when he got serious.

And he would always tell me, coach, remember to keep the main thing, the main thing sounds pretty simple, but it's profound.

And, you know, a lot of times you don't because you worry about the extracurricular stuff.

And so keep the main thing, the main thing.

Duquesne actually put together a classic, to honor Chuck.

Invited Earl up there and wanted West Virginia State to play a prelim game at Duquesne.

Earl was there, spent the whole weekend with us and pregame meal with the team.

Obviously, the game is different now than when Earl played, um, you know, back then it was not as much scoring.

It was more, you know, inside-out.

Today's game is now more outside-in- shooting threes and those kinds of things.

So.

So the game is different.

The game at Duquesne, he was in there for our pregame talk.

And you know I think the the language is a little bit different in, you know, the schemes and how you're going to guard ball screens or what have you blitzing or trapping.

And so I think that kind of verbiage was a little bit different.

So, you know, I went through my pregame talk and all that and I said, "Mr.

Lloyd, you got anything to say?"

He goes, "I'm not sure what coach just told you guys."

He goes "I don't understand all that language.

All I'm saying is go out there and play as hard as you can.

Go out there and play as hard as you can."

And that's what Earl Lloyd was about.

And that's what made his name.

He could score, but he played extremely hard, defended and rebounded.

And and that's what made his NBA career.

My wife wanted to go to New Orleans.

So we decided, okay, we'll go back to the Final Four this year.

And I go into that expo and across the way is this huge statue of Shaq hanging on the rim, dunking it.

And I walked in and I'm looking at this statue, and this smaller white gentleman walks up beside me and he says, "Can I help you?"

And I said, "yeah, how much would one of those cost?"

Because at that time, the state had already appropriated money for us to have a new arena, and I wanted a statue of Earl Lloyd in this.

All right.

And so, the guy says, "I don't know.

Who you want one of?"

And I said, "Earl Lloyd" And he said, "You mean <i>the </i>Earl Lloyd?"

And I said, "Yes- the first black player to ever play in the NBA.

He played at our school, West Virginia State.

We're getting a new arena.

I need a statue of him."

"Done deal.

I'm doing it."

I'm like, "How much?"

"Don't worry about that.

We'll talk about that later."

I know they're not free.

Come to find out, this guy is a guy by the name of Brian Hanlon.

Brian Hanlon became the official sculptor for the Basketball Hall of Fame the same year that Earl Lloyd got inducted.

Brian ends up charging us nothing for his artistic work.

They don't hand out statues.

They say thank you.

Job well done.

I was here yesterday and I was looking at my father's, retirement number, his jersey in the new gymnasium.

Almost had a moment of what kind of person my father was.

Because once again, if they don't think my father was worthy or a good person, he wouldn't have no statue.

He wouldn't have no street name.

His jersy wouldn't been in the rafters.

If I can fill half of my father's shoes... I won.

I know I can't fill them for sure but if I can fill half his shoes... I won