"I can't think of a guy in the last few years who has come out of nowhere...There is going to be a ton of mystery about this kid."
CNN reports that Dedmon is now a 22-year old redshirt sophomore at USC. But when Dedmon was at Lancaster High, he was mystery of sorts to his school mates. Not yet 18, but already over 6 feet 5 inches, his schoolmates pestered him, wanting to know why he wasn't playing basketball. He seemed to them made in heaven for the game. Too often, Dedmon was embarrassed to tell the truth. He just walked off. But when he did, he would only say, "I just don't.
The truth, however, was that his mother did not allow him. She had better plans for her gangly athletic son, and that was ensuring he makes it to the "new world" after Armageddon destruction of this "wicked system of things."
She took the boy to the local Kingdom Hall of the Jehovah's Witness regularly and did everything she could to smother his interest in the game. But Dedmon wanted to play basketball.
On a number of occasions, he tried to make the high school team. But each time he dropped out, telling his coach with tears in his eyes: "I can't do it...My mom won't let me."
But finally at 18, the boy, now a man, took a decision of his own. He went to his mother and said in a final tone: "Mom, I still want to play basketball. You know where I stand on this." CNN reports that initially, his mother challenged him. She called the Kingdom Hall elders who told him basketball would take him away from the Truth he had been learning from his childhood, and that might mean God's judgment at Armageddon.
But the young man had made up his mind. He could serve both God and basketball.
Then, for the first time, at 18, 6 feet 8 inches and 190 pounds, the gangly athletic youth began learning the basic drills of basketball his mates his had known for years. David Humphreys, Dedmon's high school coach, recalls the boy's first serious attempts at playing basketball: "It was almost like he was running around in circles." In his senior years at high school, he played a few games, but his overall performance was mediocre. He scored once and almost brought the roof down. Dedmon recalls the moment: "I ran down the court, raising the roof...screaming, 'Ahh! Ahh! Ahh!' "
When Dedmon entered Antelope Valley College, he contacted Coach Dieter Horton, junior college basket ball coach in California. Horton recalls the first time he saw Dewayne Dedmon, in April 2008, at the Antelope Valley College gym. The towering youth walked up to him and said, quietly, "Coach, my name is Dewayne Dedmon. I want to play basketball." Horton gets lots of ambitious kids coming up to him saying, "I want to play basket ball." But an 18-year-old, at almost 7 feet, is a rare kind that a basketball coach does not overlook, especially when he recognizes the name from stories he'd been hearing from other kids about a near 7-foot kid who did not play basketball. Coach Horton answered the teenager:
"O.k, Dewayne Dedmon, how about we see what you got...Show up next Tuesday at 3 p.m., and we'll work you out."