5 Celtics players’ moms share the emotional stories of their sons’ rise to the NBA

Behind every Celtics player is a village: parents who put everything aside to make their kids’ dreams a reality, college coaches who worked tirelessly to ensure their players believed in themselves, medical staff who helped them overcome injuries, and the list goes on and on.

For International Women’s Month, I spoke to the mothers of five players to get their perspective on their sons’ unlikely journeys to the NBA. Several got choked up as they remembered the toughest moments. Their voices filled with pride as they recalled the happiest.

I say these journeys were unlikely because only 1% of high school varsity basketball players go on to play Division I college basketball, and only 1% of those DI athletes make it to the NBA, let alone stay in the league.

I say unlikely because some grew up in places with limited access to indoor courts. I say unlikely because some were severely undersized and completely overlooked for most of their young careers.

Al Horford’s mother, Arelis Reynoso, recalled how her son devoured books about officiating and assumed the role of a coach from the moment he first picked up a basketball.

Sam Hauser’s mom, Stephanie Hauser, explained how the Hausers raised their son to care exclusively about winning rather than his stats — and how that contributes to Sam’s success today.

Baylor Scheierman’s mom, Shannon Scheierman, told the story of her then-13-year-old son getting up at 5 am to get in workouts with the high schoolers — and how Pistol Pete served as his basketball inspiration.

Jordan Walsh’s mom, Sandra Walsh, recounted her son suddenly leaving her side on the first day of preschool when he saw a basketball — and why she ultimately credits basketball for saving him.

Derrick White’s mom, Colleen White, remembered her son beginning his high school career at 5’6 — and even after Derrick broke through, the White family turned a draft night party into a grad party, just in case.

The biggest thing I learned through this series is that these athletes worked tirelessly to get where they are today. They’re all much taller than the average American man, and all of them came from athletic families, putting them at a natural advantage to make it. But the ridiculous work ethic is what ultimately separated them.

And, they all benefited from their mothers’ unwavering support.

These are five Celtics players’ stories, through their moms’ eyes.

Al Horford

Photo by Brian Babineau/NBAE via Getty Images

Teresa Duran, a women’s basketball legend in the Dominican Republic, was one of the first people to coach Horford at his first basketball camp. Right away, she was stunned at his basketball acumen, and shared with his mother that she’d simply never seen a little kid exhibit that level of court vision and IQ.

Almost immediately, Horford began acting as a coach to his teammates — writing down plays, giving advice, and explaining how to make on-court reads.

“He [would] say, ‘Come on. Let me show you. When I’m here, you need to pass the ball here, but if you see two players here, you need to do this,’” Reynoso said, reminiscing on how her son instantly took over the coach’s seat.

It was also obvious from the jump that Horford didn’t mind the physicality of the sport. In Santo Domingo, where he and his mother lived, there were no indoor basketball courts — so kids instead competed on concrete outdoor courts.

And, as he regularly got bruises and bumps from diving on the concrete, his mother reminded him that baseball could serve as a less painful alternative.

“He [would] say, ‘No, mommy. That’s okay. This doesn’t bother me,’” Reynoso recalled.

Meanwhile, off the court, Horford began to religiously study the game, seemingly treating basketball as a profession from the moment he decided he wanted it. While most kids simply wanted to play pickup in the park, 10-year-old Al buried himself in literature.

“I just found books [about] basketball, and he started reading the rules,” Reynoso said. “He starts seeing how the referees have a protocol and etiquette… he wanted to know everything. And every time he saw anybody play, he wanted to be there, watching and playing.”

Sam Hauser

Photo by Brian Fluharty/Getty Images

From a young age, Sam Hauser was taught by his parents to never, ever worry about his stats.

All that mattered in the Hauser family was the victory.

That’s what his mother, Stephanie Hauser, relayed to CelticsBlog in a conversation earlier this month, in which she reflected on her son’s ascension from an undrafted University of Virginia standout to the major contributor on an NBA championship team.

Both Stephanie and her husband, Dave, played basketball in college. Their kids, Sam, Joey, and Nicole, were all athletes growing up, with Joey currently playing in the G League and Nicole having played college volleyball. And, it was ingrained in the Hauser children from a young age that regardless of the sport, all that mattered was the win.

“As long as there’s a hash mark of a win versus a loss, then as long as you are contributing in a way — doesn’t matter what way, even if you’re just setting screens — that’s ultimately what’s important,” Stephanie explained, recounting the message she hammered home to her children.

Accepting that individual stats don’t matter is easier said than done, but Stephanie recalled how she saw Sam buying into that mindset in real time. In a major high school playoff game, Sam scored just two points while racking up a bunch of blocks and rebounds.

She checked in on her son after the game — and was pleased to see where his head was at despite a poor shooting performance.”

“I did what I could control,” he stated simply, and maintained a good mood after the game.

Baylor Scheierman

Photo by Rocky Widner/NBAE via Getty Images

When Baylor Scheierman was in 7th grade, he woke up at 5 a.m. every morning to sneak in a workout with a pair of high schoolers from his hometown of Aurora, Nebraska.

The trio of young athletes called themselves “The Morning Hawks.” They’d get in a workout before school, because they played sports after school — baseball, golf, football, the like. Scheierman was the only middle-schooler in the pack, but he was nonetheless embraced.

“I think they just saw the passion I had for the game, and just the willingness to do whatever it took to get better,” Scheierman told CelticsBlog. “They kind of just gravitated to that. And so, that’s how I earned the invite.”

Baylor’s mom, Shannon, taught a spin class at 5:30 in the morning. So, she’d drop off her 13-year-old son at the high school, and pick him up on her way home from class. He’d quickly shower and head to class.

The Scheiermans are a family of athletes. Shannon played college volleyball. Baylor’s father, Scott, played college basketball. Baylor’s sister played volleyball in school, his uncles played college baseball, and the list goes on.

But, it was then that Shannon began to realize her son was different.

“Already, he was putting in the extra time for basketball,” she said. “You just don’t do that. The normal kid doesn’t do that in seventh grade — get up at 5:30 in the morning to go work out.”

Then, in 8th grade, Baylor’s social studies teacher had the students write letters to their future selves, stating their aspirations.

Baylor’s goal was simple: I want to play in the NBA.

Jordan Walsh

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Though Jordan’s basketball origin story is similar to most NBA players, the game began to carry significantly more weight at an early age. Just a few years into his athletic career, Walsh began losing his hair. Then, when he was just 9 years old, he was diagnosed with alopecia, an autoimmune disease that causes complete hair loss.

Sandra described those early years post-diagnosis as “extremely difficult.” The other kids relentlessly made fun of her son, and consequently, he covered his head whenever possible.

His mother simply yearned for him to be happy — and, as such, she absorbed the weight of his struggles.

“That was the only big worry that he had,” Sandra said of the alopecia. “So, that was the big one that I had.”

As Jordan navigated the hair loss, she picked up on something critical; the alopecia faded into the background when her son competed in the sport he fell in love with as a toddler.

“The only time that he did not have anything on his head was when he was on that basketball court,” she said. “That’s when we saw his confidence, and that’s when we saw that he was no longer worried about his condition. It wasn’t until he came off of the basketball court, even when other players would tease him about his condition, he didn’t seem to be at all worried about it.”

In response to the jokes and quips from classmates, Walsh simply outplayed the other kids on the court.

“My husband and I were looking at each other like, ‘Wow, this kid might actually be able to play,’” Sandra said. “He was just a kid — and he’s dunking the ball over all these other kids.”

Derrick White

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When Derrick White was a high schooler in Colorado, everyone called him Baby Face.

“Because he had this baby face,” White’s mother, Colleen, told CelticsBlog in an interview last month. “People would say — what are you, 12? He didn’t find it funny, of course, at the time.”

White was infamously cut from the middle school basketball team in 8th grade.

He was 5’6 when he began his high school career.

And, even when he grew a few inches and put together a dominant basketball career at Legend High School, it was crickets when it came to attracting college basketball offers.

“If we thought he was a great player, it seems like the world kind of shot us down because we didn’t get any interest from colleges,” Colleen said.

It’s been more than a decade since that time, but Colleen still sounds perplexed as to why colleges couldn’t see the vision.

But, the White family didn’t take no for an answer. Derrick’s dad, Richard White, was relentless, sending dozens of emails to college coaches in hopes that something would materialize.

Eventually, the scrappy point guard got the opportunity to enroll at the University of Colorado — Colorado Springs, a Division II school. By the time his college career began, he had sprouted to the height of a typical NBA guard, thanks to a massive summer growth spurt that succeeded high school graduation.