(EXCERPT) Earl the Twirl: My life in basketball

I don’t remember the exact time I made it into Houston, maybe around 3:30 or 4 in the afternoon Texas time. But I was ready. A team assistant coach, Larry Smith, picked me up. His nickname was “Mr. Mean,” but he was great to me. After we shook hands, I told him I had to go to baggage claim to get my stuff. He said, “Earl, there’s no time to wait for the bags. We have to go now.” All I had was my carry-on in my hand. He said, “We’ll get someone to get your stuff later. Let’s go!” So, I jumped in a car with him, and we went straight to the arena. By the time I made it to the locker room in Houston, the rest of the team was already on the court warming up. The team had my jersey all ready, name printed on the back and everything, hanging in a locker. I jumped into the uniform, number 35, warmups and all, and I got a quick physical examination from the doctors right there in the locker room.