The Sky Was the Limit

OJ Mayo was once destined for greatness.

by Jay King / @CelticsTown

In seventh grade, I thought I was hot ish. I scored about 12 points per game, and that may not seem like much but this was seventh grade. Players weren’t scoring thirty per game. Hell, most of us had just recently grown strong enough to reach from the three-point arc. My 12 points per were enough for me to be named my team’s MVP. I received a trophy for my award, and I looked at it with a smile that never stopped. I was going to be somebody. One day, I thought, I was going to be a star.

In seventh grade, O.J. Mayo already was.

He had a web site in his name. He scored 23.1 points per game – for his high school’s varsity team. He received his first scholarship offer, from Marshall University. I repeat, in seventh grade. Mayo was a phenom. He was already 6-2, and his game was accomplished. The sky was the limit.

Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on
Just keep on pressin on
Sky is the limit and you know that you can have
what you want, be what you want
Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on
Just keep on pressin on
Sky is the limit and you know that you can have
what you want, be what you want, have what you want, be what you want

Mayo was only nine years old when Biggie Smalls and 112 collaborated on the hit single “Sky’s the Limit,” so the lyrics to the chorus couldn’t possibly have been written about Mayo’s formative years. But they might as well have been. Actually, scratch that. The sky wasn’t the limit to Mayo’s game. There was no limit.

By the time Mayo was a freshman in high school, an opposing coach said he could play in the Mid-American Conference. As a 15-year-old. The following year, Draft Express wrote, “He doesn’t really have any noticeable flaws,” and, “He is hands down the best high school player in the country, regardless of age.” NBA superstardom wasn’t a possibility for Mayo, it was an inevitability. Mayo was somewhere between the next Lebron James and the next Michael Jordan.

So when did his potential find a limit? When did his growth find a ceiling? When did Mayo stop projecting as a superstar and become a disappointing damn good pro? Well, that’s a good question.

—–

Maybe it was while he was still in high school. In his senior season, Mayo stopped being ranked No. 1 in his class. Critics said it was because he was no longer as dominant on the AAU summer circuit. Supporters said it was because Mayo’s game had been under immense scrutiny for six years. At some point, somebody was bound to find something wrong with his game.

The McDonald’s All-American game was a chance for Mayo to shine. The stage was his to prove that he deserved the number one ranking, that all the pundits who put Kevin Love, Eric Gordon, Kyle Singler or Derrick Rose ahead of Mayo were mistaken. Instead, Mayo pieced together a nightmare complete with 4-17 shooting. Bill Simmons wrote that Mayo “has a legitimate chance to replace Vince Carter as my least favorite NBA star of all-time before everything’s said and done.”

There still wasn’t a definite ceiling to Mayo’s potential, but we were starting to think one might exist.

——

Maybe it was during Mayo’s one year at USC. He posted great numbers (20.7 points, 4.5 rebounds, 3.3 assists), but there was something missing about Mayo’s game. He possessed as refined a repertoire as a college freshman could dream of. He could shoot, handle, pass, and he was a cut 6-4. But there was still something wrong. He didn’t physically dominate opponents like we expected. He didn’t overwhelm them like we believed he would, like The Next Lebron James was supposed to. Mayo was phenomenal, but he wasn’t head and shoulders better than the competition. He excelled, but he didn’t quite dominate. And there’s a difference.

In his lone NCAA tournament game, Mayo wore socks with the NBA logo on them. Playing against Kansas State and Michael Beasley, the nation’s top player, Mayo found his next chance to prove himself worthy of superstardom. He missed his first three shots. He shot 6-16. His USC Trojans lost 80-67. Mayo still scored 20 points, but it wasn’t a performance worthy of The Next Lebron. It wasn’t the stuff of legends. It was the stuff of an excessively skilled freshman failing to thrive under the pressure of his first NCAA Tournament game.

Still, we didn’t quite write Mayo off as a future superstar. Maybe it was because of his reputation. Maybe it was because, even in an underwhelming season, he was still one of the best NCAA freshmen in memory. Maybe it was because he was still a chiseled combo guard with athleticism. Maybe it was because Mayo compared himself to Deron Williams before the Draft. I’m not sure.

What I do know is this: as the draft drew near, news came out of Miami that Pat Riley coveted Mayo. An ESPN report cited sources that said Riley believed Mayo was “a special talent.” Riley thought Mayo would develop into a Gilbert Arenas-type point guard, which, at the time, was a good thing. People who know things were still high on Mayo’s game. And I’ll never forget a quote that trainer Mike Procopio said about Mayo.

“He pushes himself as much as any player I’ve seen,” Procopio, a former Boston Celtics scout, told Draft Express. “I’ve never seen a guy who is more focused than him. I feel bad for the guys who will have to work out against him. He reminds me of Clubber Lang [played by Mr. T] in Rocky 3 with the way he trained for that fight against Rocky. Rocky was in the disco having fun, and Clubber Lang was in some hole in the wall doing chin-ups. The guy is a nut when it comes to working out. You can see it in his eyes, he wants to be great. He’ll spend all day doing something until he gets it right. The kid cannot fail. He will not fail. He’s fearless. Some kids listen to the crowd around them, who tell them how good they are. They live on the hype. They live off the rankings of the scouting services around the country. He doesn’t. He wants to rip your heart out, serve it to you on a plate, and then do it again. The kid is a killer, he’s a total killer on the court. He’ll be a special player.”

After reading that quote, I didn’t care about Mayo’s slightly disappointing freshman year. The kid cannot fail. He will not fail. He’s fearless. With the work ethic Procopio described, I thought, Mayo was destined to be a true superstar. I think I may have been wrong.

—–

Maybe it was during Mayo’s rookie year. He averaged 18.5 points per game and finished second in Rookie of the Year voting, but again we saw signs that he would never be the type of player who could take over games, who could dominate opponents on a nightly basis. Mayo was polished, there was no doubt, and his game was thorough. But he didn’t get to the hoop any time he wanted to. He couldn’t always create offense. He was a bit small for a shooting guard, and he didn’t prove able to run the point.

Maybe it was last year, when Mayo’s scoring declined and he seemed even more hesitant to take over. He improved his efficiency and shooting percentages, but was that all he could do to progress?

Maybe it was this year. His scoring, assists and rebounds have all fallen, and Mayo still hasn’t shown any real signs of improvement. He was cut from Team USA in favor of Eric Gordon, and his Grizzlies teammate Rudy Gay continues to separate himself from Mayo as the team’s go-to guy.

Mayo’s still a hell of a player, don’t get me wrong. He’s still someone you want on your team. His shooting stroke is Jessica Alba pretty, his game as smooth as Louis Armstrong’s music, and his defense is better than advertised. But will he ever evolve into a true superstar? It looks more doubtful by the day.

—–

Biggie and 112 sang that the “Sky is the Limit.” Maybe that’s still the case for O.J. Mayo. Maybe he can still take the proverbial leap and become the superstar we always expected he would. Maybe the sky still is the limit. Even if that’s true, we now know there is a limit to Mayo’s potential.

At one point, we didn’t think there was.