Caron Butler has had a stellar career. The two-time NBA All-Star has contributed his talents on the court to the Miami Heat, the LA Lakers and the Dallas Mavericks, where he was part of a championship team in 2011.
But before he got to the NBA, his life was headed in a very different direction. He had a rough upbringing in Racine, Wis., and took an unusual route to get to the pros, which included numerous drug arrests, a stint in prison and a close call that could have changed his entire life — all before he turned 18.
His journey to basketball stardom may have instead been a journey to life behind bars, had it not been for a police detective whose words — "I trust you, and I believe in you" — proved to be a turning point in Butler's life.
Butler, now starting his 14th season in the NBA, shares his story in a new memoir, Tuff Juice: My Journey from the Streets to the NBA. The book is co-written by Steve Springer.
"In order to be strong and tough mentally, I was humble — and I was humble to the point where I couldn't be humble anymore," Butler tells NPR's Michel Martin. "I gained a lot from that. My foundation became much stronger, and I became a better man because of it."
To hear the full interview, listen at the audio link above.
Interview Highlights
On his nickname "Tuff Juice," given to him by his former coach Eddie Jordan
He learned a lot about my history and my character, as a coach and me being a player for four years at the time — playing through injury, playing through whatever adversity that was bothering me. I just played. I just came, I showed up, I played, I laced them up. And he was like, "You're tuff juice." And it just kind of stuck.
On the influence of his family as he was growing up
My mom worked two jobs. I saw hard work, and I just felt like she didn't get results she deserved.
Her two brothers were in the streets, hustling and doing all these things. Those were my uncles, those were father figures that I had, the male role models. I was exposed to that game early — as a 7, 8, 9-year-old — seeing it, seeing the money come, seeing the income, seeing the flashy jewelry and things like that. I was like, "Man, that's the life I want. That's what I want."
What I saw [my mom] go through — I didn't want that. I didn't want that for me in the future. I didn't want that for her now, because I saw how hard she worked.
On his experiences in incarceration
Once I got incarcerated, and I was in solitary confinement — by myself — for 23 hours a day, I got stronger mentally and physically. And I got out of that environment, I was seeing things a little differently. And I think it just hit me all at once.
I was just like, "I don't want to live this life no more. I don't want to do this. I lost friends in this, and I know the outcome: Either I'm going to have to hurt somebody, somebody's going to hurt me or I'm going to spend the rest of my life like this — incarcerated."
On the encounter that led to a turning point in his life, at age 17
I'm at home sick, not feeling well. I leave school at about 8:30 a.m., and I'm at my house. I hear boom, boom, boom. I look out the window and see police, ATF, SWAT team, everything out there.
I hurry up and just, you know, try to protect myself as they come up the stairs. I'm in the middle of a raid. I'm just like, man — my hope is [there's] not anything in this house that can lead me back to going to corrections, because at this time, I'm doing so well in my life. I'm playing basketball, I have a job, everything is together and it's moving forward.
So after they have everything in the house secured, they go to the garage and find a little over an ounce of cocaine.
They say, "Bingo! We got it." And I'm handcuffed, and I'm sitting there, and I'm just like, "Man, that's not my stuff."
Sgt. Geller — I know him as Sgt. Geller now because we're good friends — the sergeant looked at me and said, "Look, we got enough to convict him. Take him." If I was convicted, I was facing 10 to 15 years.
Sgt. Geller said, "Let him go." He showed me tremendous favor, and I'm forever grateful because of that. ...
To this day, I ask him: "Why didn't you charge me that day? I'm still searching for that answer myself — why didn't you pursue that charge?"
And he was just like, "I knew you weren't guilty. The informant had said that there was drugs being sold out of this house, and they described the individual. And you weren't the individual they described. So how can I try you for this?"
On the lessons he drew from the encounter
I had a perception of police officers as a youth coming up. It was like, we don't need them out here, doing what they do to us, jumping out on us all the time, running us out of our neighborhood and doing stuff like that.
But at the same time, you know, there was a reason behind that madness. I was selling poison. I was doing things to create the tension that I was getting. That was self-inflicted.
And Detective Geller — this guy showed me tremendous favor, where he could've just thrown me to the wolves and gave me 10 to 15 and I'm gone. And it's only right that I talk about this relationship, and this favor that this one officer showed me — and that all officers aren't bad people.
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Transcript
MICHEL MARTIN, HOST:
It's hard to miss that the relationship or the conflicts between young black men and the police is very much an issue right now, so we have a story that flips the script that we've been hearing. If you are a basketball fan, then you probably know Caron Butler. The two-time NBA All-Star has played for some of the sport's greatest teams, including the Miami Heat, Los Angeles Lakers and the Dallas Mavericks, where he was part of the 2011 championship team. He's currently with the Sacramento Kings. But what you may not know is the unusual route he took to get there, which included numerous arrests for drug dealing, a stint in prison and a close call with a police officer that set the course of his life. He talks about all of this in a new memoir called "Tuff Juice: My Journey From The Streets To The NBA." And Caron Butler is with us now. Welcome.
CARON BUTLER: Thanks for having me.
MARTIN: So "Tuff Juice" - you say that's the nickname one of your former coaches Eddie Jordan gave to you when you played for the Wizards because of - you're so tough or because of the way you grew up was so tough?
BUTLER: Combination of both. You know, he learned a lot about my history and my character as a coach and me being - as a player for four years at the time - playing through injury, playing through whatever adversity that was bothering me or whatever. I just played. I came. I showed up. I played. I laced them up. And he was like, you know, you tuff juice, and it just kind of stuck. It's a good name to have.
MARTIN: So you were born and raised in Racine, Wis., which I'm not sure a lot of people think of it as one of those hard-core urban environments that, you know, some people come through, but for you it was?
BUTLER: See, this is what you get in Racine. You get a mix of everything. You get the GDs. You get the Vice Lords. You get the Lion Kings. You get the Bloods.
MARTIN: You're talking gangs, for people who may not be aware.
BUTLER: Yeah. You get - you get all the gangs. You get a combination of everything. And people that's on the run, people from different walks of life - and they all wind up in this place and create a community.
MARTIN: You talk about how supportive and hard-working your mother is.
BUTLER: Yeah.
MARTIN: Was and is. So how did you get caught up in all that?
BUTLER: It was unique because my mom worked two jobs, and I saw hard work. And I just felt like she didn't get the results that she deserved. And her brothers - her two brothers was in the streets, you know, hustling, doing all these things. And those was my uncles. That was the father figure that I had - the male role models. And I was exposed to that game early, as a 7, 8, 9-year-old, seeing it - seeing the money come - seeing the income and seeing the flashy jewelry and things like that. I was like, man, that's the life I want. That's what I want. And what I saw her going through - I didn't want that. I didn't want that for me in the future. I didn't want that for her now because I saw how hard she worked.
MARTIN: You had a lot of close calls even then. I mean, as I recall, you recount in the book how you were arrested - what? - like, nine times before you were even...
BUTLER: Nineteen times, easy. Yeah.
MARTIN: Nineteen times before you were 15. Kind of lost an even track. And apparently, none of that was enough to make you stop, so what was? What was the thing that made you say enough?
BUTLER: I think it was - you know how, like, a lot of people plant seeds. You have the chief of police who was an African-American male. You had the local community center guy. You had the NAACP activist. And you had my mom. You had my grandmother. You had different family members that influenced me to do positive things.
And once I got incarcerated and I was in solitary confinement by myself for 23 hours a day, I got stronger mentally and physically, and I got out of that environment, so I was seeing things a little differently. And I think it just hit me all once, and I was just like, man, I don't - I don't want to live this life no more. I don't want to do this. I lost friends in this, and I know the outcome. Either I'm going to have to hurt somebody, somebody's going to hurt me, or I'm going to spend the rest of my life like this, incarcerated.
MARTIN: You describe one other really interesting encounter in the book that I wanted ask you to talk about, which is where you were no longer involved in dealing or any other criminal activity. You were, in fact, working at Burger King.
BUTLER: Yeah.
MARTIN: Going to school, playing basketball, trying to live right. And you were at home with the flu one day, and tell me what happens next.
BUTLER: So I'm at home sick, and I hear - boom, boom, boom. I look at the window. I see the police, ATF, SWAT team, everything out there. So I hurry up and just, you know, try to protect myself as they coming up the stairs and stuff. And I'm in the middle of a raid. And I'm just like, man, I hope there's not anything in this house that can lead me back to going to corrections.
And after they have everything in the house secure, they go to the garage, and they find a little bit over an ounce of cocaine. And they say, bingo, we got it, and I'm handcuffed. And I'm sitting there, and I'm just like, man, that's not my stuff. Sergeant Geller - I know him as Sergeant Geller now because we're good friends. Sergeant, look at me. They said, look, we got enough to convict him. Take him. And if I was convicted, I was facing 10 to 15 years. Sergeant Geller said let him go. He showed me tremendous favor, and I'm forever grateful because of that.
MARTIN: Why do you think he let you go?
BUTLER: Till this day, I ask him, why didn't you charge me that day? I still, like - I'm searching for that answer myself. Why didn't you pursue that charge? And he was just like, I knew you wasn't guilty. Their informant had said that it was drugs being sold out this house, and they described an individual. And you weren't the individual that they described, so how can I try you for this?
MARTIN: But he could've. I mean, the fact is you did have a record - an extensive one, at that point - for drug dealing. You're the only one home, and it's your house. And the fact is because it was in your house, there were charges that could have been brought.
BUTLER: Yeah.
MARTIN: What do you make of that?
BUTLER: I think that's generations of prayer. My grandma said to this day there ain't nothing but God, and I don't take that for granted. And because of that favor that I was shown that day, I was able to pursue my dream and live my life.
MARTIN: I was going to ask you about that. We are in a moment where relationships between law enforcement and many people are very tense, and it goes both ways. I mean, there's a lot of resentment on the part, I think, of law enforcement about how they feel that they are perceived. And there's a lot of resentment on the part of particularly, I would say, black men and boys and others about how they feel law enforcement has treated them historically and treats them now. And I just wondered if you - what you feel your - this particular and powerful encounter that you had with now Lieutenant Geller - what should we draw from that?
BUTLER: That all cops aren't bad. I had a perception of police officers as a youth coming up. It's like we don't need them out here, you know, doing what they do to us - you know, jumping out on us all the time, running us out of our neighborhood and doing stuff like that. But at the same time, you know, there was a reason behind their madness. I was selling poison. I was doing things to, you know, create the attention that I was getting. That was self-inflicted. And Detective Geller - this guy showed me tremendous favor where he could have just threw me to the wolves and gave me 10 to 15, and I'm gone. And it's only right that I talk about this relationship and this favor that this one officer showed me and that, like, all officers aren't bad people.
MARTIN: Caron Butler, two-time NBA All-Star, starting his - what? - 14th season.
BUTLER: Fourteenth season.
MARTIN: Fourteenth season in the NBA, currently, with the Sacramento Kings. His book, which is co-written by Steve Springer, is called "Caron Butler: Tuff Juice: My Journey From The Streets To The NBA." He was kind enough to join us here in our Washington, D.C., studios. Caron Butler, thank you so much for speaking with us.
BUTLER: Thanks for having me. Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.
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