No Way in Hell They Wanna See Us

I was 100% born like this. 

You know that game you play when you’re a kid, where you have your dad throw you way up in the air and then he catches you? Do they still do that, or is that illegal now? Because when I was like 3 or 4, I used to have my dad launching my ass. 

“Again. Let’s go! Higher!”

I’d be wearing him out. His arms would be so tired. But I was already playing mind games. 

“Again! Come on, old man. Launch me!” 

I’d be pretending I was Spider-Man or whatever. I loved it. Then one day I was with my uncles at a family party, and I was having them toss me in the living room. I wore my one uncle down. He tapped out. Then I subbed in my other uncle, but I guess he was inexperienced with the baby-launching game, and he miscalculated. He launched me so high that I smacked my head on the ceiling. 

Whap.

He was so shocked that he missed me on the way down, too. I’m laying there in a heap. Sprawled out on the carpet. Everybody is dead silent. 

And you know how when little kids fall you gotta wait like 5 seconds to see how they’re gonna react? 

I’m laying there looking at all my uncles and aunts, and everybody’s like, “Oh my God, is he hurt? Is he concussed?”

I’m like “..........................”

“Dillon, speak to us!!!” 

And then I just started cracking up. 

“Again. Again. Launch me.” 

True story. You can ask my grandma. I was different.

If you’re not from Canada, I don’t know what you picture about Canada. But it’s probably not my story. I grew up in Mississauga. My mom’s side of the family is from New Brunswick — real country. And then my dad’s side is from a small town in Nova Scotia — real, real country, but also like 80% Black. Quick history lesson — my dad and my uncles were born in East Preston, which is a pretty interesting place if you’ve never heard of it. It was founded like 200 years ago, mostly by former slaves and refugees after the Revolutionary War. It’s still less than 1,000 people in the whole town, and there’s a lot of farmers out there. But my dad and my uncles were all in the concrete business — doing driveways and sidewalks and stuff like that. 

Every summer, I used to go up there, and that’s where my love of basketball really started. That was when Vince Carter was going crazy, shining a light on Canada. When I’d go to Nova Scotia, all my uncles weren’t talking about the Leafs. They were talking about Vince. Every day, me and my cousins were outside playing ball. I mean, it started as pickup. But after like 2 minutes, it was basically tackle basketball. Somebody would take an elbow, and then it was basically just WWE. Picture like 12 cousins, full-on Royal Rumble in the grass. You know when you’re a kid and you been wrestling so long that you gotta stop because everybody is itching too bad? 

We’d come inside and everybody was green.

My grandma would be crossing herself…. “Oh my Lord. Are you serious? Somebody get some soap.”

I was the youngest of all the cousins, too. So my only way to move up in the hierarchy was to show that I was a dog. I think that’s really where a lot of my personality came from — just fighting for my life up there. To me, that’s what was cool. Just the way they moved, and how tough they were. I didn’t wanna be this soft city boy, you know? Toronto … that just wasn’t cool to me. I wanted to be country. 

I probably took it too far. I remember one summer coming back home and for a whole month, my shoulder was messed up. I think I was like 6. Finally, my mom noticed something was wrong. 

She took me to the doctor, and in 5 seconds he was like, “Yeah, that’s a separated shoulder. How many days has he been like this?” 

She said, “Days? It’s been like a month.”

I was just laughing. 

The doctor was looking at my mom like, “Yo, this kid is nuts.”

I think without that grit, I never would have made it. I mean, there’s no way. Coming from Mississauga, at that time, people didn’t take you seriously. Now, with SGA and Jamal and Wiggins and everybody, it’s a whole different world. But when I was coming up, everybody rolled their eyes when you said you were from Canada. I don’t know why, but I just had this unshakable belief that I was going to play in the NBA. Ever since I was 10. When I saw Vince, I said, “That’s gonna be me. Whatever it takes.”

And it took a whole lot…….

Pretty much from the jump, I was a shit-talker. But I actually don’t think that really does it justice. Everybody can talk shit. That’s nothing. You go to the Mississauga YMCA, and everybody is talking trash. That’s basic. What I learned to do is different. 

I call it the dark arts. 

It’s not really about what I’m saying to you. 

It’s about what I got you saying to yourself. 

When you’re playing at the Y, you’re seeing the same guys all the time. Half of them are your boys. So you learn exactly what pisses them off. It’s like you got a little playbook on them, right? All you have to do is press that button at the right time, and they’re going to lose their focus. 

You don’t even have to say much. Just a name. Just the first name of ol’ girl….

Right as they’re about to take a jumper. You can say it real soft, too. 

“Mikayla.”

And that’s a brick.

Just that little subconscious thought planted in their mind.

“What did you just say?”

“Huh? Nothing. What are you talking about?”

Next time down the floor, you wait until he gets the ball again….

“Mikayla.”

You don’t even need to elaborate. He might not hit a shot the rest of the game. There’s a million different weak points you can find. Everybody is different.

I didn’t just come up with all this on my own. I learned from a master. One of my boys at the Y was one of the most sinister trash talkers I’ve ever met. Dude was devious. Real subtle, too. He’d be preying on your deepest insecurities. I remember when I first started to get some shine, I was playing AAU and I had some colleges looking at me, right? So we’d be playing pickup, and I’d miss a shot, and he’d be just squinting at me….

Like…

“D1, huh?”

I’d miss another shot. 

He’s shaking his head….

“Oregon? Man, I don’t see it.” 

Now I’m pissed. I’m trying too hard. I’m already in my head. But he’s just setting me up. He’s laying the groundwork. Next time down the floor, he hits me with it….

Sheridan. 

See, we got this college in Canada called Sheridan. And this is no disrespect to anybody, but Sheridan is one of those places where guys go to play ball who can’t quite make it to the States. It’s for the dudes who stay home. 

So I hit a shot, and he’s squinting at me, and he goes….

“Yeah, I think you could probably play at Sheridan. I dunno.”

Man…… When I tell you I went crazy…… I took the ball and I just booted that shit into the rafters. He had me so f***** up. 

And this is my boy, mind you. 

I still think about that to this day, and I wanna fight him. 

That’s how you know he won.

That’s the dark arts. That’s what I learned just from playing every day at the Y, and really from my whole journey all the way up. Being my size, and playing the role I do, I had to look for every little edge. Over the years, I kind of developed it into a science. I remember when I was on the Grizzlies, I had little dossiers on everybody. I knew what pissed you off. Before the refs really knew me, everything was working. I had everybody tweaked out. Obviously, now the refs got me under the microscope, so I gotta be really subtle with it, but back then, I was an artist. The only guy that never reacted was Kawhi. He was my white whale.

Nothing ever worked. He paid it no mind. 

I think I tried pinching Kawhi one time, for real. 

He’d just look at you, like, “Play basketball, bro.” 

I’d be thinking, Alright, damn. You might be right. What’s the point? 

Obviously it’s a fine line. It doesn’t always work. Like anything in life, sometimes it tips over and it works against you. That series against LA defined me for a few years, especially for people who weren’t watching us week in and week out, seeing everything I put into this. Two years ago, you had people going on TV saying that I was going to be out of the league, playing in China. I didn’t bat an eye, honestly. But I was still kind of immature in the way I was seeing the league. I’ll never forget, after I got traded to Houston, when the villain stuff was kind of at its height, I got thrown out 5 minutes into my first preseason game. 

I got tangled up on a screen with Daniel Theis, and I gave him a nutshot. Can’t sugar coat it. I crossed the line. 

I’m in the locker room after the game, just feeling like s***, beating myself up, and one of our assistant coaches comes over to me with a phone. 

He says, “Hey, Joe wants to talk to you.” 

I’m like, “Joe who?”

“Joe Dumars.” 

It was a crazy feeling because when I was a kid my aunt gave me these VHS tapes of all the best old-school NBA players, and I immediately gravitated to guys like Joe and Vin Baker and Dennis Rodman. Now I got the legend calling me, and part of me is so excited just to say what’s up to him, but another part of me knows I’m getting called into the principal’s office. He was the head of basketball ops for the league at the time, so I’m thinking I’m about to be chewed out by the Hall of Famer. 

I answered the phone with my tail between my legs, like….

“Hello? Mr. Dumars?” 

And he just immediately flipped the script. 

He basically said, “Man, I don’t get it. Why do you think you have to fight all the time? You don’t have to always be the agitator. You can really play basketball. You got game. I see it.”

I think Joe was the first guy of that stature who ever told me that I was good at basketball and not just a villain. 

That was a huge wake-up call. I took a really hard look in the mirror. And listen, I probably messed up 100 times since then. I’m not saying that I’m perfect. But growth is about learning from your mistakes, and I think you can see that I’ve evolved a lot the past few years. 

I know that if you just met me, or if you’re playing against me, you probably just think I’m a troll or an asshole or whatever. But there’s a method to the madness. You can ask any teammate I’ve ever played with, and I’m pretty sure they’d tell you, “That motherf***** drove me crazy sometimes, but I loved playing with him.” 

For me, the highest compliment you can give a basketball player is the pickup test. Like, if we’re picking teams at the Y, are you pointing at me, like: “Him. I want him. I’m not trying to play against this dude.”

I feel like if you actually know me for real, the thing that I bring to every team I’m on is that infectiousness. I feel like my main role on every team I’ve ever been on is getting guys to play harder. In an 82-game season, when you’re flying for back-to-backs, you gotta remember how much you love this shit. I try to be the reminder. 

I feel like you can see that this season in Phoenix. We weren’t supposed to be a threat. Now we’re your worst nightmare. Before the game, we’re bouncing off the walls. And that’s when we’re in your building. Literally, I hear the arena announcer from the locker room, and I start doing my Mike Tyson. I start bouncing from side to side like Mike. When the announcer says “the Phoenix Suns” and the whole crowd starts booing, we all start going from rope to rope. Bouncing off the ropes like a fighter, shadowboxing. There’s nothing better than being on the road and just knowing, “We’re gonna make your lives a living hell tonight. These kids are gonna be crying in their popcorn.” 

It’s funny, when I got word that I was traded to Phoenix, I was in the weirdest place. I guess it was fitting, in retrospect. I was at the spa, in this Himalayan salt cave, just trying to do my breath work and trying to be chill. I had about a week’s notice that Houston was working on a deal to bring in KD, and the word was that Phoenix was only going to do it if I was in the package. 

Right away, that told me something about the franchise. 

So I’m in the cave, and my phone starts blowing up. 

Done deal. 

I’m going to Phoenix. I saw what people around the league were saying. The Suns are blowing it up. They’re gonna be rebuilding for years. They want picks. 

My mentality was: F*** that. Let’s win.

My first call was to Book, and I asked him straight up, “Tell me what we gotta do to flip this thing. How do we win?”

It’s funny because Book is one of those guys who I’ve targeted for years, and he’s got icewater in his veins. Even now, if you ask him about our matchups, he won’t even give you anything either way. 

He just says, “We’ve had our battles.” 

I just knew right away, after talking to him: Yo, this can work. We can complement each other really well as leaders. He can be the stonecold killer and I can bring the energy. Book is not trying to lose. Book is way too good to be tanking. He’s gonna do whatever it takes. 

When guys get traded, they always say, “This is the perfect fit.” 

I’d be bullshitting if I said I knew it at the time. But I damn sure know it now. 

Phoenix is my spot. I want to set the culture here for 20 years. I want to retire a Sun.

I think I’m showing the world what I can be — and what Joe saw in me. When I dropped 40 on Detroit this year, I know people were shocked. But if you really know ball, and not just look at memes all day, there’s nothing to be shocked about. I’m not that guy from 2018. I’m not that guy from 2023. I’m a different dude, with a whole different bag, and a whole lot of confidence, and a whole lot of life lessons under my belt. 

It’s funny because when you drop 40 on somebody, it’s a whole different energy compared to the dark arts. When you drop 40, you see them looking away. They don’t even want to engage with you. You see the shoulders slumping. The head is drooping.

And we’re playing Detroit. No Book. No JG. I’m thinking they’re gonna be fighting until the end. 

But it was crickets. Where the Bad Boys at?

There was nobody to even talk to. 

And yeah, I was still talking my shit of course. I had to turn to their bench to find somebody to engage with me. So I was talking to coach. 

“Remember me??” 

When you score 40, that’s when they give you the real humble hug after the game like, “Alright, good game. Keep it going, bro.” 

That’s when you know you really broke them, when instead of trying to meet you outside, they’re watering your flowers. 

I don’t trust that energy. 

Even now, we hear everything. It’s almost like the vibe is like, “Oh, they’re a nice story. That’s cool. The Suns did their thing this year….”

But this season ain’t over. We’re still lurking. The monster is still under the bed, bro. 

It’s almost like the whole NBA wants us to go away. It’s like they respect us, but they want somebody else to play us. Anybody else, bro. 

That’s a testament to what we’re building here in the desert. 

When I got here, they were talking lottery. 

Now what they talking about? 

We got everybody in the league looking down, staring at their shoes.

Honestly, answer me…. Who in their right mind wants to see the Phoenix Suns right now? 

– DB