In Beasley suit, it's hard to view AAU coach Malone as the bad guyDavid Steele Sporting NewsOn the surface, the legal wrangling recently uncovered among the Timberwolves’ Michael Beasley, his former agent and a major AAU coach from his hometown has the potential to cast everybody involved in a poor light. Since the allegations and counter-allegations drag Beasley’s former Kansas State team, the NCAA and, now, another benefactor into the dispute, they all stand to lose face as well.
Viewed with clearer eyes, though—and through a prism not of what college basketball deems improper but what society views as decent and honorable—most of these figures should not come off badly. Well ... with the exception of the NCAA, as usual, and the college basketball world’s warped sense of right and wrong.

Given that the courts will have the final word on who did and did not act properly in all this, here’s the one person who deserves better than the usual, instinctive public condemnation: the AAU coach in question, Curtis Malone.
Even taking Beasley’s account of things from his counter-suit against Malone and Joel Bell, the agent he said Malone improperly steered him to when he left college for the NBA, it’s hard to see anything Malone did wrong. For the moment, never mind that NCAA violations could have occurred, before and after Beasley landed at Kansas State four years ago. According to Beasley’s allegations, Malone—his coach on the regionally- and nationally-prominent D.C. Assault AAU program in the Washington area—took the wayward Beasley in as a teenager, mentored him, acted as a surrogate father, and helped his mother financially, at the very least to attend her son’s out of town games.
Terrible. How dare an adult give guidance and support to a needy youth under his tutelage?
And Malone stands accused of acting in this manner several other times in his life as an AAU coach. He did the same years earlier for the son and daughter of a former NBA player and assistant coach who, 15 years ago, died suddenly at age 43. The player was Derek Smith, and the son is Nolan Smith, who helped Duke win a national championship in 2010 and was drafted into the NBA last June. Malone is now his stepfather; he married Derek Smith’s widow.
As much as he cherishes his father’s memory, Nolan Smith cherishes the bond developed, and strength provided, by his stepfather. He speaks about Malone often and embraces their relationship as if it’s blood.
Smith also talks about another of Malone’s former AAU players—and this year a freshman at Duke—Quinn Cook, as if he’s his natural younger brother. Malone also stepped in to support Cook, a D.C.-area point guard whose own father also died suddenly three years ago. Malone has been much of a surrogate father to him as well, guiding him through his last two years of high school, through the recruiting process and the other challenges (including, as was the case with Nolan Smith, dealing with birthdays and holidays with his natural father gone).
This, it emerged from Beasley’s court action, is what Malone did with Beasley, raised by a single mother and whose father has been something of a spotty presence. Beasley’s upbringing and life seem much more troubled than either Smith’s or Cook’s, evidenced by the constant changes of high schools and, by his own admittance, behavior problems along the way.
That is pointed out not to judge Beasley, who has had other issues since entering the NBA, including a stint in rehab between his first and second NBA seasons after a scary bout of talk on Twitter that sounded potentially suicidal.
The core of his suit—filed after Bell sued him for breaking their player-agent contract illicitly—is that Malone and his AAU program took money from Bell, then steered Beasley to Bell when he reached the NBA, as a quid pro quo. There were also allegations of various people giving his mother money while he was at Kansas State. That should be Kansas State’s problem, of course.
Meanwhile, agents pumping money into youth programs and looking for a payday at the other end ... well, we’re all conditioned to believe that’s unsavory and contradictory to the ideals of intercollegiate sports. Of course, everything that actually benefits players in need instead of the schools and the figures in charge is portrayed as evil. That mentality seems to afflict Beasley himself, who claims to have felt “betrayed” by the news of his mother getting aid from outside parties.
Still, college players are justified in feeling “betrayed” by the system they’re fed into in order to reach the highest levels of their sport.
It’s just hard to see where Malone, who by all accounts is just a generous, dedicated coach and mentor, is the betrayer. No segment of the seamy underbelly of college basketball gets the public vilification that the AAU system does. But more often than not, it’s unjustly given. Coaches love taking aim at the AAU, as well as agents, for “manipulating” or “exploiting” the kids, largely because those coaches believe they should be manipulating or exploiting the kids themselves.
Beneath the image, plenty of coaches like Malone do far more good for their players than harm, particularly for players in dire need the way Beasley, Smith and Cook were. They’re the visible examples, the ones who beat the odds.
The merits of the cases involving Beasley will ultimately be decided in a courtroom. The court of public opinion, however, needs to give all the characters, including Malone, a fair hearing of their own.
