Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SATURDAY, October 22, 1994 TAG: 9411160074
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: B4 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: MIKE PHILLIPS MIAMI HERALD
DATELINE: MIAMI LENGTH: Long
Every step Terry Wallace takes is a giant step. The only thing bigger than Wallace are the expectations that surround him.
His reputation is longer than his shadow, stretching from the inner city to the suburbs, from blacktop ball in Liberty City to cozy gyms in Kendall. They openly talk in the neighborhood and at family reunions about the NBA and how Terry will be a star, a millionaire.
On the street and in the malls, at the movies or in the grocery store, everyone stares at Terry Wallace - he has seen that open-mouth look so often he laughs at it.
And every step is a giant step.
Terry Wallace is 12.
He is 6-foot-4 and 220 pounds. He wears a size 14 shoe, and his mother has to go to Big & Tall Men's stores to find his clothes, where she buys size 38-long pants and XX-large shirts. He already has hair on his chin, and basketball fans all over Miami are talking about his future. He is in seventh grade, and University of Miami coach Leonard Hamilton already knows about him.
He even has a marquee nickname.
They call him Baby Shaq. In fact, if you ask anyone in Miami's basketball community about Terry Wallace, you might get a blank look. Mention Baby Shaq and eyes light up like a scoreboard.
Ask any basketball fan in Dade County and he'll tell you that by next year, more than a dozen high school coaches will be pulling at Baby Shaq from all directions in a recruiting circus - even though recruiting by high schools is illegal.
At Drew Elementary, Baby Shaq was legendary. He averaged 18 points and eight blocked shots per game. There were many games in which he grabbed 30 rebounds. He dunked for fun on the 8-foot baskets, and his one-on-one confrontations were downright ridiculous. Imagine 5-6 and 5-7 sixth-graders trying to guard Wallace, who says, ``I never felt sorry for the other players. I just play the game for fun.''
When Wallace showed up at Ruben Dario Middle School in West Dade County this fall, the assistant principal took one look at him and said: ``Welcome to Dario. I want to be your agent. I'd like 10 percent.'' The Dario basketball coach said, ``Well, we've just won another championship.''
Wallace has Shaq's nickname, but the truth is that Wallace is bigger than O'Neal was at this age. When O'Neal was in ninth grade at San Antonio's Cole High School, he was listed at 6-3. By the time he graduated, he was listed at 6-9. Doctors have told Wallace's mother that Terry could reach 7 feet.
``Believe me, everybody knows about this kid,'' said John Napier, an assistant coach at Northwestern High and basketball coach at Drew Middle School, where Wallace would have been playing. ``They know about him at Carol City, American, Norland, Miami High, everywhere. They can probably tell you his name, height, weight, address and phone number. He is going to be recruited by every high school in Dade County. He's a franchise player, and they know it.
``The head coaches won't recruit him, but kids will talk to him, and assistant coaches will talk to him. I'm sure some people have already started talking to him. It's going to be a war.''
Wallace's mother, Rochelle, said no high school coaches have approached her - yet.
``A friend of mine who is a physical education teacher has already warned me,'' she said. ``She said they are going to be beating down my door. I don't know what to expect. All this talk about coaches recruiting him is all new to me.''
Said Dario coach Billy Long: ``They are going to be here next year. The high school coaches are going to be drooling over him. He's probably already been approached. My thing is going to be to protect him, to make sure he doesn't forget about the academics.''
Terry could walk to Central High, four blocks from his house, but when asked about high schools, Terry said: ``I guess I'll go to Miami High. That's where all the recruits go.''
Terry said no one from Miami High had contacted him but added that he wanted to go to a high school with a reputation of attracting college scouts.
Terry doesn't realize that it doesn't matter where he attends high school. Recruiters will find him. Indiana's Bob Knight saw Damon Bailey play in the eighth grade, and college coaches watched Chris Webber as an eighth-grader.
Baby Shaq's name has reached Coral Gables.
``I don't know him, but yes, I've heard about the kid they call Baby Shaq,'' Hamilton said. ``All I know is that there is supposed to be some big kid in the inner city they call Baby Shaq.''
Hamilton will be glad to know that Wallace's mother not only earned a degree from Miami but played on its women's basketball team in the early 1970s.
Rochelle Wallace could care less about Miami High's basketball tradition or that Northwestern's Corey Louis was recruited by colleges coast to coast. Rochelle Wallace is a no-nonsense single parent who earns a living as a social worker. She worked her way through college, and it's no surprise that all three of her children are honor students.
Her daughter, Florence, 16, is enrolled in a special TV productions program at Turner Tech. James, 8, is a B-plus student in the third grade.
Then there's Terry, who transferred to Ruben Dario this year because of its math and science magnet programs. He is enrolled in advanced classes, such as algebra and aerospace science. He's also a musician. He probably was the only 7-year-old big enough to hold a string bass when he began learning to play in the second grade. He also plays the drums and trombone.
``I have to look out for the best interest of my child,'' Rochelle Wallace said. ``I don't care how good the basketball team is. I want to know what does the school offer my child? You don't major in playing ball. Basketball is something that is on the side.
``I'm the one who wanted him at Dario. I did that. I wanted to find a better school. I want him to have a better environment, and they have advanced classes there. I want the best for my children.''
In the meantime, Rochelle and Terry laugh at the stares.
``You should see the way they look when I tell them he's 12,'' she says.
Rochelle Wallace said she has been trying to find her son casual shoes for months. ``It took me more than two months to find him some sandals,'' she said. ``All he has is tennis shoes and dress shoes.'' When she found large dress shoes almost a year ago, she bought two pairs - size 14 and size 15.
Terry even gets carded. Rochelle carries her health card with her because when they go to the movies she has to prove Terry is 12.
He weighed a little more than 9 pounds and was 22 inches long when born, and no one in the family is a 7-footer. Rochelle is 5-8, and Terry's father is 6-2. His grandparents were average height. Wallace's uncle, Robert Moss, is 6-4, 245 and played linebacker for the New York Jets.
Rochelle Wallace says all her children are tall, but it's not because they eat eight meals a day. ``Terry eats just one serving at dinner. It's a big serving, but I don't give him two or three plates,'' she said. ``But my children don't eat any junk food.''
His mother is confident that all the attention and expectations that hover over Terry won't change him, won't make him forget what is important.
``I know my son. This is not going to affect him,'' she said. ``He will really think twice. It's not going to go to his head. He is serious about academics. He has the talent, but it's more important to master academics. He won't put sports ahead of academics.''
by CNB