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IS THIS THE MOST POWERFULMAN IN SPORTS?[h2]In the NBA, all roads lead to one man, whom you've probably never heard of: William Wesley-a.k.a. Worldwide Wes-the most connected, most discreet, mostinfluential man on and off the court[/h2]
Auburn Hills, Michigan, November 2004. William Wesley, a middle-aged mortgage broker, runs onto the court to shield Ron Artest from a uniformed policeofficer wielding a can of pepper spray. Artest's teammates are trading haymakers with fans; coaches and referees are struggling to restore order. Themortgage broker lunges forward and throws his hands in the cop's face, and in the next instant, Pacers teammates Austin Croshere and Reggie Miller rush torestrain Artest. Through a tempest of tossed soda and popcorn, Wesley moves on to shepherding the Pacers' Jermaine O'Neal on the court. Once in thetunnel, O'Neal breaks free, but Wesley wraps him in a bear hug and drags him to the locker room.
Two years later, when I ask Reggie Miller about Wesley's presence on the court, he'll say: "What the hell is he doing out there in the middleof all that? I mean, what is he doing? He has no business out there! He injects himself into the middle of everything!"
Others weren't quite so surprised to see William Wesley-or Wes, as he's known-in the middle of the fray. "At any given time, if you look at anysporting event, there's a very good chance you're going to see Wes," says NBA analyst David Aldridge. Over the years, Wes has been spotted huggingJerry Jones on the field after a Cowboys Super Bowl win, high-fiving University of Miami football players after a national championship win, and embracing JoeDumars after the Pistons won the NBA Finals. He's been spotted sitting next to Jay-Z at the NBA All-Star Game, with Nike czar Phil Knight at the FinalFour, and trolling the sidelines of Team USA practices in Las Vegas and Japan. "People who really know Wes," says superagent David Falk, Wes'slongtime friend, "know that he's one of the two or three most powerful people in the sport."
In his March 2005 ESPN "Page 2" column, the well-known basketball writer Scoop Jackson wrote, "I believe Phil Knight is the most powerful manin sports next to Wes Wesley." Eight months after Jackson's column, New Jersey-based basketball journalist Henry Abbott mounted an obsessiveopen-source investigation on his blog, TrueHoop, that brilliantly illustrated how, if you look closely at the various forces at work in basketball at everylevel of the sport-the AAU programs that funnel players to college programs, the agents looking to land players as early as NBA rules allow, the shoecompanies, coaches, franchise owners, front-office executives, players-it eventually dawns on you that they have one thing in common: William Wesley.
So why have you never heard of him? Whenever I told journalists, players, agents, and NBA executives the subject of this article, the common reaction was anamused chuckle and then "Good luck." Very few people, even Wes's friends, are able to describe his role. Chicago Sun-Times writer LacyBanks recalls his confusion upon meeting Wes twenty years ago: "I thought he worked for the Secret Service or the FBI or the CIA. Then I thought he was apimp, providing players with chicks, or a loan shark or a bodyguard or a vice commissioner to the league." The few people who know what Wes is really upto aren't talking. And that's the way Wes likes it.
*****
Many of the stories circulating about Wes are sensationalistic: He was a guest at Frank Sinatra's funeral. He worked as anoperative for his close friends Bill and Hillary Clinton. Spike Lee is planning a movie about his life. Of all the rumors, the movie seems to make the mostsense, because the story of how William Sydney Wesley, the child of a middle-class family from southern New Jersey, turned himself into Worldwide Wes is such aperfect realization of the modern American dream-full of old-fashioned wheel-greasing, hustling, and social climbing-that it feels like it was written for thebig screen.
The story begins in the early 1980s at Pro Shoes, a lunchbox-sized store in Cherry Hill, New Jersey, that serviced hoops stars from all over the DelawareRiver Valley-from local high school stars to 76ers like Darryl Dawkins and Doug Collins. William Wesley, age 16, was the preternaturally suave salesman whoknew all about the clientele. He knew the pro players from TV, and he knew the high schoolers from bumping shoulders with them on the court-there was LeonRose, the crafty point guard from Cherry Hill East, and those two juggernauts from Camden named Billy Thompson and Milt Wagner.
"Wes was my best friend," Wagner says. "My whole career, he followed me everywhere I went."
In 1981, Milt headed to Louisville, where he made three trips to the Final Four and won a national championship. In 1987, when Milt went on to the LosAngeles Lakers, Wes was there, too, taking it all in, learning that young men, as they make the transition from college to the NBA, have needs. "If aplayer needs a custom-clothing designer, Wes can help you with that," Banks says. "Need a hairstylist who knows how to do complicated cornrows? Wescan do that."
In 1989, Kenny Payne, one of Milt's former Louisville teammates, introduced Wes to fellow 76er Rick Mahorn, who in turn gave Wes a job as the doorman athis Cherry Hill nightclub, a favorite bump-and-grind spot for Philly's pro athletes. It wasn't long before Wes was running the place.
Recalling that early period, 2 Live Crew frontman Luther Campbell tells me, "My claim to fame is that I took Wes on his first flight on a jet. We wentto the NBA All-Star Game, we went to the University of Miami games, we went everywhere. We were at a Mike Tyson fight in Atlantic City, and Wes took me backinto the casino vault! With the money! You only get to go back there if you're an employee or you're one of the boys. I said, 'Oh, my God! Who thehell are you, Wes? What'd you do?' And Wes said, 'I just know everybody.' "
Wes's big break came in the late 1980s or early 1990s, when Milt Wagner put him in a room with Michael Jordan. Jordan ended up giving Wes a job at hisbasketball camp. After that, according to Lacy Banks, "Wes just popped up out of nowhere. You'd see him in locker rooms, courtside at games, in thehotels, restaurants, everywhere." By late 1993, Wes had taken up residence in Chicago. Being close to Jordan and the Bulls was good for business.
Chicago is where Wes became friends with, among others, the Clintons, Phil Knight, and Reebok exec Tom Shine. He made allies in themedia, providing inside information and facilitating interviews with difficult-to-reach stars, and he gained a reputation as a trustworthy adviser/fixer forat-risk athletes. "I know of a particular NBA player who got into a staggering gambling situation," says Shine. "The people this guy lost moneyto, they were not nice guys. Wes saved him from getting killed."
In 1997, when Allen Iverson was arrested for possessing marijuana and a concealed weapon, Wes stepped in to clean up the mess. According to Reebok executiveQue Gaskins, Iverson's constant companion during that period, "After Allen got in trouble, Wes called to check in on us and make sure we had the rightresources and the right people to get in touch with. He was very close with Billy Hunter [head of the National Basketball Players Association] and wanted tomake sure that if Allen wanted his voice heard, he and Billy had a conversation."
Numerous sources also told me that Wes played a significant role in mediating peace between Iverson and his coach, Larry Brown. One well-circulated anecdotetells of Wes urging A.I. over speakerphone to quit *****ing and get his %!! to practice. Coaches around the league took notice of the sway Wes had withplayers. "Put it this way," says Cleveland Cavaliers coach Mike Brown. "If I have a problem and I need an outside influence, I know I can callhim. We talk all the time."
*****
In 2001, Wes's godson and Milt's son, Dajuan Wagner, was the consensus best high school basketball player in the world. If Dajuan had entered theNBA draft after his junior year at Camden High, he might have been the number one pick. But Wes persuaded him to let the NBA wait and spend a year ortwo playing for John Calipari at the University of Memphis. The deal came with plenty of strings attached: Wes made it clear to Calipari that Dajuan was moreinclined to sign with a school that also gave a free ride to his best friend, Arthur Barclay, an all-state player who'd been passed over because of poortest scores. (Done.) Then Milt, despite lacking a college degree, was hired to be Memphis's head of basketball operations. When news of the deal leakedout, the media crucified Calipari, painting it as nothing more than legalized graft. Wes answered accusations that something shady had gone down, saying,"Man, I've heard the second-guessing. It's simple: Juanny needed to improve his defense and prove that he can play on the next level. Coach Calcan help him do that. What do I have to gain by him going to Memphis?"
Wes had been managing Dajuan's career since the boy was 11, and so when it came time for Dajuan to head to Memphis, Wes went along. After only oneseason-in which Dajuan averaged twenty-one points a game-Calipari called Milt and Dajuan into his office. "I tore up Dajuan's scholarship in front ofhim to make sure he understood he wasn't coming back," Calipari says. Dajuan was ready for the NBA. The Cavaliers selected him in the
Auburn Hills, Michigan, November 2004. William Wesley, a middle-aged mortgage broker, runs onto the court to shield Ron Artest from a uniformed policeofficer wielding a can of pepper spray. Artest's teammates are trading haymakers with fans; coaches and referees are struggling to restore order. Themortgage broker lunges forward and throws his hands in the cop's face, and in the next instant, Pacers teammates Austin Croshere and Reggie Miller rush torestrain Artest. Through a tempest of tossed soda and popcorn, Wesley moves on to shepherding the Pacers' Jermaine O'Neal on the court. Once in thetunnel, O'Neal breaks free, but Wesley wraps him in a bear hug and drags him to the locker room.
Two years later, when I ask Reggie Miller about Wesley's presence on the court, he'll say: "What the hell is he doing out there in the middleof all that? I mean, what is he doing? He has no business out there! He injects himself into the middle of everything!"
Others weren't quite so surprised to see William Wesley-or Wes, as he's known-in the middle of the fray. "At any given time, if you look at anysporting event, there's a very good chance you're going to see Wes," says NBA analyst David Aldridge. Over the years, Wes has been spotted huggingJerry Jones on the field after a Cowboys Super Bowl win, high-fiving University of Miami football players after a national championship win, and embracing JoeDumars after the Pistons won the NBA Finals. He's been spotted sitting next to Jay-Z at the NBA All-Star Game, with Nike czar Phil Knight at the FinalFour, and trolling the sidelines of Team USA practices in Las Vegas and Japan. "People who really know Wes," says superagent David Falk, Wes'slongtime friend, "know that he's one of the two or three most powerful people in the sport."
In his March 2005 ESPN "Page 2" column, the well-known basketball writer Scoop Jackson wrote, "I believe Phil Knight is the most powerful manin sports next to Wes Wesley." Eight months after Jackson's column, New Jersey-based basketball journalist Henry Abbott mounted an obsessiveopen-source investigation on his blog, TrueHoop, that brilliantly illustrated how, if you look closely at the various forces at work in basketball at everylevel of the sport-the AAU programs that funnel players to college programs, the agents looking to land players as early as NBA rules allow, the shoecompanies, coaches, franchise owners, front-office executives, players-it eventually dawns on you that they have one thing in common: William Wesley.
So why have you never heard of him? Whenever I told journalists, players, agents, and NBA executives the subject of this article, the common reaction was anamused chuckle and then "Good luck." Very few people, even Wes's friends, are able to describe his role. Chicago Sun-Times writer LacyBanks recalls his confusion upon meeting Wes twenty years ago: "I thought he worked for the Secret Service or the FBI or the CIA. Then I thought he was apimp, providing players with chicks, or a loan shark or a bodyguard or a vice commissioner to the league." The few people who know what Wes is really upto aren't talking. And that's the way Wes likes it.
*****
Many of the stories circulating about Wes are sensationalistic: He was a guest at Frank Sinatra's funeral. He worked as anoperative for his close friends Bill and Hillary Clinton. Spike Lee is planning a movie about his life. Of all the rumors, the movie seems to make the mostsense, because the story of how William Sydney Wesley, the child of a middle-class family from southern New Jersey, turned himself into Worldwide Wes is such aperfect realization of the modern American dream-full of old-fashioned wheel-greasing, hustling, and social climbing-that it feels like it was written for thebig screen.
The story begins in the early 1980s at Pro Shoes, a lunchbox-sized store in Cherry Hill, New Jersey, that serviced hoops stars from all over the DelawareRiver Valley-from local high school stars to 76ers like Darryl Dawkins and Doug Collins. William Wesley, age 16, was the preternaturally suave salesman whoknew all about the clientele. He knew the pro players from TV, and he knew the high schoolers from bumping shoulders with them on the court-there was LeonRose, the crafty point guard from Cherry Hill East, and those two juggernauts from Camden named Billy Thompson and Milt Wagner.
"Wes was my best friend," Wagner says. "My whole career, he followed me everywhere I went."
In 1981, Milt headed to Louisville, where he made three trips to the Final Four and won a national championship. In 1987, when Milt went on to the LosAngeles Lakers, Wes was there, too, taking it all in, learning that young men, as they make the transition from college to the NBA, have needs. "If aplayer needs a custom-clothing designer, Wes can help you with that," Banks says. "Need a hairstylist who knows how to do complicated cornrows? Wescan do that."
In 1989, Kenny Payne, one of Milt's former Louisville teammates, introduced Wes to fellow 76er Rick Mahorn, who in turn gave Wes a job as the doorman athis Cherry Hill nightclub, a favorite bump-and-grind spot for Philly's pro athletes. It wasn't long before Wes was running the place.
Recalling that early period, 2 Live Crew frontman Luther Campbell tells me, "My claim to fame is that I took Wes on his first flight on a jet. We wentto the NBA All-Star Game, we went to the University of Miami games, we went everywhere. We were at a Mike Tyson fight in Atlantic City, and Wes took me backinto the casino vault! With the money! You only get to go back there if you're an employee or you're one of the boys. I said, 'Oh, my God! Who thehell are you, Wes? What'd you do?' And Wes said, 'I just know everybody.' "
Wes's big break came in the late 1980s or early 1990s, when Milt Wagner put him in a room with Michael Jordan. Jordan ended up giving Wes a job at hisbasketball camp. After that, according to Lacy Banks, "Wes just popped up out of nowhere. You'd see him in locker rooms, courtside at games, in thehotels, restaurants, everywhere." By late 1993, Wes had taken up residence in Chicago. Being close to Jordan and the Bulls was good for business.
Chicago is where Wes became friends with, among others, the Clintons, Phil Knight, and Reebok exec Tom Shine. He made allies in themedia, providing inside information and facilitating interviews with difficult-to-reach stars, and he gained a reputation as a trustworthy adviser/fixer forat-risk athletes. "I know of a particular NBA player who got into a staggering gambling situation," says Shine. "The people this guy lost moneyto, they were not nice guys. Wes saved him from getting killed."
In 1997, when Allen Iverson was arrested for possessing marijuana and a concealed weapon, Wes stepped in to clean up the mess. According to Reebok executiveQue Gaskins, Iverson's constant companion during that period, "After Allen got in trouble, Wes called to check in on us and make sure we had the rightresources and the right people to get in touch with. He was very close with Billy Hunter [head of the National Basketball Players Association] and wanted tomake sure that if Allen wanted his voice heard, he and Billy had a conversation."
Numerous sources also told me that Wes played a significant role in mediating peace between Iverson and his coach, Larry Brown. One well-circulated anecdotetells of Wes urging A.I. over speakerphone to quit *****ing and get his %!! to practice. Coaches around the league took notice of the sway Wes had withplayers. "Put it this way," says Cleveland Cavaliers coach Mike Brown. "If I have a problem and I need an outside influence, I know I can callhim. We talk all the time."
*****
In 2001, Wes's godson and Milt's son, Dajuan Wagner, was the consensus best high school basketball player in the world. If Dajuan had entered theNBA draft after his junior year at Camden High, he might have been the number one pick. But Wes persuaded him to let the NBA wait and spend a year ortwo playing for John Calipari at the University of Memphis. The deal came with plenty of strings attached: Wes made it clear to Calipari that Dajuan was moreinclined to sign with a school that also gave a free ride to his best friend, Arthur Barclay, an all-state player who'd been passed over because of poortest scores. (Done.) Then Milt, despite lacking a college degree, was hired to be Memphis's head of basketball operations. When news of the deal leakedout, the media crucified Calipari, painting it as nothing more than legalized graft. Wes answered accusations that something shady had gone down, saying,"Man, I've heard the second-guessing. It's simple: Juanny needed to improve his defense and prove that he can play on the next level. Coach Calcan help him do that. What do I have to gain by him going to Memphis?"
Wes had been managing Dajuan's career since the boy was 11, and so when it came time for Dajuan to head to Memphis, Wes went along. After only oneseason-in which Dajuan averaged twenty-one points a game-Calipari called Milt and Dajuan into his office. "I tore up Dajuan's scholarship in front ofhim to make sure he understood he wasn't coming back," Calipari says. Dajuan was ready for the NBA. The Cavaliers selected him in the
