playstation
Selfless Service
AMARE ARRIVES
Stoudemire soars into NBA's elite as player and celebrity
Paul Coro
The Arizona Republic
Oct. 2, 2005 12:00 AM
Amaré Stoudemire sits statue-still on a stool in the center of a bright white room. There is a digital camera and a man at a computer counting slowly to three over and over. At each count, Stoudemire pivots slightly and the camera captures another angle of his head in 12 geometric pieces.
The Phoenix Suns' star center has come to a motion-capture studio in San Diego to lend his body to Sony's new NBA '06 video game, due out about midmonth. The tranquil setting is an unusual work environment for a young man who makes a living pounding a basketball in front of thousands of screaming fans.
But once his head is transferred as a three-dimensional image to the computer, he is ushered to a hangar-size room where technicians and crew have set up a makeshift basketball court. "Now, I can get to what I do," he says.
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A large poster of Stoudemire on the video-game cover hangs on one wall. A courtside table with more computers and three technicians looks like press row at a game. Stoudemire is dressed in a black body suit with sensors attached to every joint of his body. His layups. crossover dribbles, pump fakes and jump shots will be etched and recorded in the glow of dozens of red lights that ring the court.
The session begins with a mix of basic motions. There is the feel of a movie set with Stoudemire in the lights, crew members moving about in the shadows. Then about 20 minutes into the session, the director wants a signature move. Stoudemire waits. The director shouts, "Eighteen, take one."
With three hard dribbles, Stoudemire cuts under the basket and leaps for a reverse, two-handed dunk. The force of his slam jerks the entire basket and base in his direction. The crew is silent, stunned by the power.
A couple of men scurry out to pull the hoop back into place. The dunk is named and stored to the hard drive.
Waiting again, Stoudemire dribbles side to side and through his legs, feigning a few shots, poised for wherever basketball will take him next.
At just 22, Amaré Carsares Stoudemire has become one of the National Basketball Association's elite players.
Called "the future" by Shaquille O'Neal, Stoudemire is among the young stars who, along with the likes of LeBron James and Dwyane Wade, are expected to carry the NBA into the next decade.
Stoudemire's level of play raced from promising to elite in only three seasons, drawing comparisons to future Hall of Fame players. He made the NBA All-Star Team at a younger age than Karl Malone first did and averaged 37 points against Tim Duncan in this year's playoffs.
Stoudemire's rapid ascent has rejuvenated the Suns franchise. It has also placed a load of expectations on Stoudemire's young shoulders and thrust him into the life of deals and demands that comes with success in professional sports.
This summer, Stoudemire became the latest cover player for Sony's new NBA video game, signed a Nike deal believed to be worth about $5 million a year and is expected this week to sign a five-year, maximum contract extension with the Suns worth more than $70 million.
By the time of the early September video-game shoot in San Diego, life as a superstar "seems pretty natural to me," Stoudemire said. " . . . The winning thing is the most important. If you lose, you'll be forgotten."
The day before suiting up for Sony in San Diego, Stoudemire's biggest concern was missing his beloved Florida State University football team's season opener against rival Miami.
Flying to San Diego would have meant missing the game. Instead, he watched the Monday night game at his Biltmore high-rise condo and then left at 3:30 a.m. by limousine for the overnight ride to San Diego.
Six hours later, after a breakfast stop for Pepsi and a cheeseburger with extra mayonnaise, the limousine pulled into a half-mile-long business park of glass buildings. Sony marketing and public-relations managers were there to greet Stoudemire and his manager in the parking lot.
Layered in Nike gear, a USA Today tucked under his arm, Stoudemire entered the complex for five hours of work on the game, including a news conference with sports and show-business media, as well as reporters who cover the $10 billion video-game industry.
As the room settled at the conference, Stoudemire scanned the reporters' faces.
"All eyes on me," he said to himself, a line from the late rapper Tupac Shakur.
Stoudemire found guidance in Shakur's street poetry growing up poor in a drug-ridden section of Lake Wales, Fla. His father died when he was 12. His mother was in and out of jail. His older brother went to prison. Stoudemire leaned on Shakur's words as he raised himself.
To stay out of trouble, Stoudemire focused on basketball. He started playing organized ball at 14. He moved a lot, attending six high schools, and was eligible to play for only two seasons. Still, the promise was obvious. Spotted early as star material, he learned how to avoid people who wanted to attach themselves to him for the payday they saw coming.
In 2002, he went from Cypress Creek High School graduation to the NBA Draft. The Suns made him the ninth overall selection and signed him to a three-year, $6 million contract.
Other teams had balked at his background. Too many rough edges. But the Suns staff, particularly Jerry Colangelo, saw something - a combination of freakish athletic abilities and unwavering confidence.
Stoudemire proved a quick study his first season, revealing himself to be a tough, mature young player. He beat out 7-foot-5 Chinese sensation Yao Ming for Rookie of the Year. In his second season, he was chosen for the Olympic team that went to Greece. And in May, after his third season, he was named to the All-NBA second team.
Suns managing partner Robert Sarver gets excited just talking about Stoudemire, who flew with him to the New York Stock Exchange this summer to ring the bell when Sarver's bank corporation made its initial public offering.
"The passion, the determination and the heart that guy has is unbelievable," Sarver said.
Before the Sony shoot began, off the main studio area, Stoudemire entered a storage room full of sports gear and props to change out of his clothes.
He looked around. For a lifelong sports fan like Stoudemire, the room was a boyhood dream. Wide-eyed, he picked up a pair of baseball cleats, probably the only person in the building who might recognize the Bo Jackson model.
Back to the task, he pulled the tight black suit over his long, muscular body.
Watching from outside the open door, his manager called, "Aquaman!"
Stoudemire said he felt more like Spider-Man.
Finally dressed, he grabbed a basketball off a shelf. Then he spotted a toy gun, picked it up and playfully aimed it at a cameraman. But then the kid in him sensed all the people outside the room watching. A bit embarrassed, he smiled and gently shut the door.
Stoudemire is not that much older than the thousands of kids who idolize him and will argue over who gets to play him in the video game. But at 6 feet 10 inches and 245 pounds, he now plays a man's game.
On the court, he is relentless and seemingly unstoppable with a blend of finesse, fearlessness and pulverizing power. Fans, coaches and commentators want him to play more defense. Rebound more. Dribble to his left. Be everything now.
Stoudemire embraces the game and considers himself a businessman, dismissive of anyone who wants to hang out with him for anything but business. He wants to be a leader on a team that he has yet to captain. He wants a championship ring yesterday.
"We're getting the ring this year," Stoudemire told Sarver recently. "I'm carrying my load and anybody else's that needs me to."
The day after his five-hour session at Sony, Stoudemire heads to Los Angeles for another round of make-believe. In a building surrounded by three LA highways, a floor of cubicles has given way in one corner to a facsimile of the Suns' locker room. He is here to shoot a commercial for the video game.
Seated on an aluminum bench, knees above his waist, Stoudemire wears a pinstripe suit jacket, crisp tan shirt, a sky-blue silk tie and the white shorts of his Suns uniform.
The commercial is to be a spoof on a locker room interview. Stoudemire's job is to riff on fictional opponents. Think Michael Jordan on Mars Blackmon.
Deadpanning into the camera, Stoudemire ad-libs on a pretend 7-foot-6 Russian player, the stereotype of a foreign NBA working stiff. "Sergei was tall. And he wasn't the fastest guy on the planet."
The director cuts in. "That felt very real."
"Sergei used to always step on my feet," Stoudemire adds dryly. "I'd tell him to stop stepping on them but I don't know if he understood English."
Stoudemire has the sound crew struggling to stifle their laughter. He knows and keeps giving them what they want.
Stoudemire's celebrity factor is catching up to his basketball prowess. His performance last season made him a global star. His jersey sales jumped 40 percent over the previous season. After the commercial work was finished and Stoudemire roamed the nearby Beverly Center mall, strangers kept stopping him to plead he join the Lakers.
"We only go with top-tier athletes," Sony Computer Entertainment marketing manager Troy Mack said. As this year's game-cover athlete, status akin to a Wheaties box, Stoudemire follows Ray Allen and Stephon Marbury. "Amaré is one of the younger, hotter players that kids associate with. He can do the things that get people off their feet."
And the celebrity life beckons. Hosting a party with Shaq in Las Vegas. Clubbing at Nirvana in LA. The personal dressing room trailers for commercial sets on each coast. Having Kelly Rowland pull him onstage during a Destiny's Child concert in Phoenix for the faux lap dance routine.
His autograph is in constant demand, on anything from wrinkled napkins to menus. When a grown man approaches with something like a ball to sign, he turns away and gives a suspicious look to a business partner before obliging.
"It's just a matter of being an NBA superstar," Stoudemire said. "You can love it or hate it. You get a lot of things that come with it: magazine covers, cover of a video game, mega-deals, fancy cars, expensive clothes, jewelry. You've got everything at your disposal."
He revels in the opulence but is grounded in childhood memories of not always having a place to go home. He shakes every hand, thanks every worker, laughs at every bad joke, talks NFL with strangers, cleans up his own lunch mess, fetches water bottles for others and acknowledges every "biggest fan."
"It's a whole other level now," said Michael Hodges, who manages Stoudemire's daily operations. "He will be one of the premier faces of the NBA. He is. With that being said, he understands there's responsibility that comes with that. It's like the Bible verse he follows, 'To whom much is given, much is expected.' "
The afternoon before the return trip to Phoenix, Stoudemire is napping in a room at the Le Meridien hotel in Beverly Hills. He has switched to a 9:45 p.m. flight to get out of LA a day early.
Across the hall, his manager's two cellphones ring constantly with inquiries, updates and requests. A hip jeans manufacturer pays an early-evening visit to size Stoudemire for a custom pair just in the hopes he'll be seen in them someday.
Stoudemire likes California. He'll return to his favorite spot in Malibu, be on camera again and hop back on a jet ski.
"It's a nice place to visit," Stoudemire says, soothing those who fear he won't always want to live and work in Phoenix.
Heading for his flight at Los Angeles International Airport, Stoudemire walks uninterrupted down the concourse wearing a Louis Vitton backpack, one diamond earring and headphones bumping tunes out from his iPod. Between the brightly lit stops of stardom, for a few minutes at least, he is anonymous, with still more room for his star to rise.
Stoudemire soars into NBA's elite as player and celebrity
Paul Coro
The Arizona Republic
Oct. 2, 2005 12:00 AM
Amaré Stoudemire sits statue-still on a stool in the center of a bright white room. There is a digital camera and a man at a computer counting slowly to three over and over. At each count, Stoudemire pivots slightly and the camera captures another angle of his head in 12 geometric pieces.
The Phoenix Suns' star center has come to a motion-capture studio in San Diego to lend his body to Sony's new NBA '06 video game, due out about midmonth. The tranquil setting is an unusual work environment for a young man who makes a living pounding a basketball in front of thousands of screaming fans.
But once his head is transferred as a three-dimensional image to the computer, he is ushered to a hangar-size room where technicians and crew have set up a makeshift basketball court. "Now, I can get to what I do," he says.
advertisement
A large poster of Stoudemire on the video-game cover hangs on one wall. A courtside table with more computers and three technicians looks like press row at a game. Stoudemire is dressed in a black body suit with sensors attached to every joint of his body. His layups. crossover dribbles, pump fakes and jump shots will be etched and recorded in the glow of dozens of red lights that ring the court.
The session begins with a mix of basic motions. There is the feel of a movie set with Stoudemire in the lights, crew members moving about in the shadows. Then about 20 minutes into the session, the director wants a signature move. Stoudemire waits. The director shouts, "Eighteen, take one."
With three hard dribbles, Stoudemire cuts under the basket and leaps for a reverse, two-handed dunk. The force of his slam jerks the entire basket and base in his direction. The crew is silent, stunned by the power.
A couple of men scurry out to pull the hoop back into place. The dunk is named and stored to the hard drive.
Waiting again, Stoudemire dribbles side to side and through his legs, feigning a few shots, poised for wherever basketball will take him next.
At just 22, Amaré Carsares Stoudemire has become one of the National Basketball Association's elite players.
Called "the future" by Shaquille O'Neal, Stoudemire is among the young stars who, along with the likes of LeBron James and Dwyane Wade, are expected to carry the NBA into the next decade.
Stoudemire's level of play raced from promising to elite in only three seasons, drawing comparisons to future Hall of Fame players. He made the NBA All-Star Team at a younger age than Karl Malone first did and averaged 37 points against Tim Duncan in this year's playoffs.
Stoudemire's rapid ascent has rejuvenated the Suns franchise. It has also placed a load of expectations on Stoudemire's young shoulders and thrust him into the life of deals and demands that comes with success in professional sports.
This summer, Stoudemire became the latest cover player for Sony's new NBA video game, signed a Nike deal believed to be worth about $5 million a year and is expected this week to sign a five-year, maximum contract extension with the Suns worth more than $70 million.
By the time of the early September video-game shoot in San Diego, life as a superstar "seems pretty natural to me," Stoudemire said. " . . . The winning thing is the most important. If you lose, you'll be forgotten."
The day before suiting up for Sony in San Diego, Stoudemire's biggest concern was missing his beloved Florida State University football team's season opener against rival Miami.
Flying to San Diego would have meant missing the game. Instead, he watched the Monday night game at his Biltmore high-rise condo and then left at 3:30 a.m. by limousine for the overnight ride to San Diego.
Six hours later, after a breakfast stop for Pepsi and a cheeseburger with extra mayonnaise, the limousine pulled into a half-mile-long business park of glass buildings. Sony marketing and public-relations managers were there to greet Stoudemire and his manager in the parking lot.
Layered in Nike gear, a USA Today tucked under his arm, Stoudemire entered the complex for five hours of work on the game, including a news conference with sports and show-business media, as well as reporters who cover the $10 billion video-game industry.
As the room settled at the conference, Stoudemire scanned the reporters' faces.
"All eyes on me," he said to himself, a line from the late rapper Tupac Shakur.
Stoudemire found guidance in Shakur's street poetry growing up poor in a drug-ridden section of Lake Wales, Fla. His father died when he was 12. His mother was in and out of jail. His older brother went to prison. Stoudemire leaned on Shakur's words as he raised himself.
To stay out of trouble, Stoudemire focused on basketball. He started playing organized ball at 14. He moved a lot, attending six high schools, and was eligible to play for only two seasons. Still, the promise was obvious. Spotted early as star material, he learned how to avoid people who wanted to attach themselves to him for the payday they saw coming.
In 2002, he went from Cypress Creek High School graduation to the NBA Draft. The Suns made him the ninth overall selection and signed him to a three-year, $6 million contract.
Other teams had balked at his background. Too many rough edges. But the Suns staff, particularly Jerry Colangelo, saw something - a combination of freakish athletic abilities and unwavering confidence.
Stoudemire proved a quick study his first season, revealing himself to be a tough, mature young player. He beat out 7-foot-5 Chinese sensation Yao Ming for Rookie of the Year. In his second season, he was chosen for the Olympic team that went to Greece. And in May, after his third season, he was named to the All-NBA second team.
Suns managing partner Robert Sarver gets excited just talking about Stoudemire, who flew with him to the New York Stock Exchange this summer to ring the bell when Sarver's bank corporation made its initial public offering.
"The passion, the determination and the heart that guy has is unbelievable," Sarver said.
Before the Sony shoot began, off the main studio area, Stoudemire entered a storage room full of sports gear and props to change out of his clothes.
He looked around. For a lifelong sports fan like Stoudemire, the room was a boyhood dream. Wide-eyed, he picked up a pair of baseball cleats, probably the only person in the building who might recognize the Bo Jackson model.
Back to the task, he pulled the tight black suit over his long, muscular body.
Watching from outside the open door, his manager called, "Aquaman!"
Stoudemire said he felt more like Spider-Man.
Finally dressed, he grabbed a basketball off a shelf. Then he spotted a toy gun, picked it up and playfully aimed it at a cameraman. But then the kid in him sensed all the people outside the room watching. A bit embarrassed, he smiled and gently shut the door.
Stoudemire is not that much older than the thousands of kids who idolize him and will argue over who gets to play him in the video game. But at 6 feet 10 inches and 245 pounds, he now plays a man's game.
On the court, he is relentless and seemingly unstoppable with a blend of finesse, fearlessness and pulverizing power. Fans, coaches and commentators want him to play more defense. Rebound more. Dribble to his left. Be everything now.
Stoudemire embraces the game and considers himself a businessman, dismissive of anyone who wants to hang out with him for anything but business. He wants to be a leader on a team that he has yet to captain. He wants a championship ring yesterday.
"We're getting the ring this year," Stoudemire told Sarver recently. "I'm carrying my load and anybody else's that needs me to."
The day after his five-hour session at Sony, Stoudemire heads to Los Angeles for another round of make-believe. In a building surrounded by three LA highways, a floor of cubicles has given way in one corner to a facsimile of the Suns' locker room. He is here to shoot a commercial for the video game.
Seated on an aluminum bench, knees above his waist, Stoudemire wears a pinstripe suit jacket, crisp tan shirt, a sky-blue silk tie and the white shorts of his Suns uniform.
The commercial is to be a spoof on a locker room interview. Stoudemire's job is to riff on fictional opponents. Think Michael Jordan on Mars Blackmon.
Deadpanning into the camera, Stoudemire ad-libs on a pretend 7-foot-6 Russian player, the stereotype of a foreign NBA working stiff. "Sergei was tall. And he wasn't the fastest guy on the planet."
The director cuts in. "That felt very real."
"Sergei used to always step on my feet," Stoudemire adds dryly. "I'd tell him to stop stepping on them but I don't know if he understood English."
Stoudemire has the sound crew struggling to stifle their laughter. He knows and keeps giving them what they want.
Stoudemire's celebrity factor is catching up to his basketball prowess. His performance last season made him a global star. His jersey sales jumped 40 percent over the previous season. After the commercial work was finished and Stoudemire roamed the nearby Beverly Center mall, strangers kept stopping him to plead he join the Lakers.
"We only go with top-tier athletes," Sony Computer Entertainment marketing manager Troy Mack said. As this year's game-cover athlete, status akin to a Wheaties box, Stoudemire follows Ray Allen and Stephon Marbury. "Amaré is one of the younger, hotter players that kids associate with. He can do the things that get people off their feet."
And the celebrity life beckons. Hosting a party with Shaq in Las Vegas. Clubbing at Nirvana in LA. The personal dressing room trailers for commercial sets on each coast. Having Kelly Rowland pull him onstage during a Destiny's Child concert in Phoenix for the faux lap dance routine.
His autograph is in constant demand, on anything from wrinkled napkins to menus. When a grown man approaches with something like a ball to sign, he turns away and gives a suspicious look to a business partner before obliging.
"It's just a matter of being an NBA superstar," Stoudemire said. "You can love it or hate it. You get a lot of things that come with it: magazine covers, cover of a video game, mega-deals, fancy cars, expensive clothes, jewelry. You've got everything at your disposal."
He revels in the opulence but is grounded in childhood memories of not always having a place to go home. He shakes every hand, thanks every worker, laughs at every bad joke, talks NFL with strangers, cleans up his own lunch mess, fetches water bottles for others and acknowledges every "biggest fan."
"It's a whole other level now," said Michael Hodges, who manages Stoudemire's daily operations. "He will be one of the premier faces of the NBA. He is. With that being said, he understands there's responsibility that comes with that. It's like the Bible verse he follows, 'To whom much is given, much is expected.' "
The afternoon before the return trip to Phoenix, Stoudemire is napping in a room at the Le Meridien hotel in Beverly Hills. He has switched to a 9:45 p.m. flight to get out of LA a day early.
Across the hall, his manager's two cellphones ring constantly with inquiries, updates and requests. A hip jeans manufacturer pays an early-evening visit to size Stoudemire for a custom pair just in the hopes he'll be seen in them someday.
Stoudemire likes California. He'll return to his favorite spot in Malibu, be on camera again and hop back on a jet ski.
"It's a nice place to visit," Stoudemire says, soothing those who fear he won't always want to live and work in Phoenix.
Heading for his flight at Los Angeles International Airport, Stoudemire walks uninterrupted down the concourse wearing a Louis Vitton backpack, one diamond earring and headphones bumping tunes out from his iPod. Between the brightly lit stops of stardom, for a few minutes at least, he is anonymous, with still more room for his star to rise.
