In his cozy room at the Conrad hotel in Indianapolis, Brandon Jennings is asking for some help getting word to Ciara, the RB singer, that he'd like to take her out on a date. So hear me out, Ciara, and I'll tell you exactly what he has in mind.
First, he'll fly you to his new, adopted hometown of Milwaukee, where you'll sit courtside at one of his games. Then he'll take you out downtown for a nice (but not extravagant) dinner at a steak house called Carnevor, a favorite spot of his. From there, the nightlife options are a bit limited; Jennings, still months away from his twenty-first birthday, can't get into any of the local clubs. So a movie might be in order—say, Ninja Assassin? He's already seen it, but if you haven't, he'd watch it again. Or maybe some video games back at his condo? Right now he's flashing a bashful, winsome smile, imagining the two of you spending an evening together.
"We don't have to be in a rush," he says. "We can take it step-by-step. Let's just hang out, have fun, and see what happens."
A word of caution, though: Taking it step-by-step isn't exactly Jennings's style. In 2008 he became the first top high school prospect to skip college and jump straight to pro ball in Europe, a move many questioned when he clocked low minutes for the Italian team Lottomatica Virtus Roma and was passed over by both the Golden State Warriors and the New York Knicks on draft day last June. But the Milwaukee Bucks scooped him up with the tenth pick, and seven games into his NBA career Jennings was rewriting the youngest ever record book, draping fifty-five points on Golden State in just the last three quarters. In the months since, he's lifted his team from conference doormat to playoff contenders. A couple of weeks after the Golden State win, the president himself was razzing the rookie during a team visit to the Oval Office. "I couldn't believe he even knew who I was," says Jennings. "He asked if the older players were still making me carry their bags."
Still, as the season grinds on, not everything has been so glorious. Some nights Jennings shoots poorly or gets lit up by savvy NBA vets. And the road can be lonely, especially when you're not old enough to hit the bars. That's why Jennings is so addicted to Twitter. He often spends five straight hours trading messages with friends and fans, his life taking on the contours of a strange virtual dream interrupted only by flights, practices, and games. It's the best safety net a young player could ask for: No matter how lonely or homesick he gets, he can just flip open his cell and hold court with thousands of his closest pals. And in a league that works hard to ensure a certain amount of public blandness from its stars, Jennings's Twitter stream is something of a revelation. His tweets are funny, personal, controversial. Like this one, from last December:
Imma change my race of women I mess with. I like white girls, light skin, asian girls, thai girls, now.… I like all type. Of women. God made beautiful women
("Really, I was mad at one particular girl," Jennings explains, "and I took it out on all girls of a certain type.")
He soon posted this disclaimer:
(true story) all my life I only dated black girls. Nothing against any other race. I love that black women are Strong!
And then, a re-tweet:
RT smh. Smh!!! ComptonAssDeezy: womenshouldnever not give head, and then get mad when her man cheat. you better get with the times !
It's weirdly pleasurable to imagine NBA commissioner—and vigilant guardian of the league's image—David Stern reading that over his morning coffee. But what Stern (who fined Jennings $7,500 in December for violating league social-media policy) may not realize is that Jennings, with his House Party high-top fade circa 1990, is actually just what the NBA needs circa 2010: a fresh, irreverent face, a star-in-the-making with Iverson's iconoclastic pep, Shaq's blunt wit, LeBron's confidence, Dwyane Wade's humility, Magic's sweet smile—and game like a hood Steve Nash.
The night after our hotel-room chat, Jennings takes the floor in Indy and slices up an average Pacers squad, looking like a ninja assassin himself. What's most striking about his game, perhaps, is his poise, even as the youngest guy on the court: the way he plays within his limits, not forcing anything, making few mistakes, quietly racking up assists. With two minutes to play in a tight game, he drains a long two, putting the Bucks ahead. A few seats down from me, Larry Bird, the Pacers' president of basketball operations, winces like he's been stung by a wasp. A minute later, Jennings calls for the ball again and splashes a three-point dagger, which seals the victory and sends Bird scurrying for the locker room, muttering to himself.
It's a virtuoso performance from a kid who's already playing with the maturity of a much older star. So, Ciara, if you're still reading this, I'm telling you: Get your ass to Milwaukee. Give the kid a shot.
davy rothbart will consider a double date with Brandon Jennings and Ciara if the fourth is Rihanna.