Father's Day Reflections With De'Andre Hunter And Onyeka Okongwu
Onyeka's father, Mike, and Onyeka (photo c/o Onyeka)
It has taken me a very long time to write this. And because of how long it’s taken me, it’s made it difficult to write anything else. My dad passed away in September of last year. It still feels weird to write that. It happened right before the start of the NBA season. For those who never met him, my dad had the biggest personality. He was charismatic and charming, witty and funny, intelligent and wise, and last, but certainly not least, handsome (he never hesitated to confirm this). He and my brother were the reason I started watching basketball. I’d ask him all things sports-related, and he’d somehow have the answer for all of my questions. So when he passed, it left me with an irreplaceable void. I had always wondered what I’d be like if one of my parents were to pass away, I thought I’d slip into a deep depression where I wouldn’t leave the house. I did the opposite when my dad transitioned. I missed the Atlanta Hawks’ preseason games but I was there for the home opener. I missed all but one home game all season and even traveled to more road games than ever before. Before my dad passed, we talked about how I wanted to do more with my Hawks coverage. We even planned to spend the season discussing how I wanted to move further in my path as media covering the team. So when he passed, I still went to games, practices, and shootarounds as we had discussed, but my desire to write wasn’t there. It made me wonder, as I knew there were players who experienced losing a parent, how were they able to go on? And so I made sure each player I spoke with was comfortable with talking about it, and I listened. Hawks’ De’Andre Hunter and Onyeka Okongwu opened up to me about dealing with the deaths of their fathers.
“You know you really gotta appreciate what you have while you got it.” Onyeka Okongwu lost his brother when Onyeka was a young teenager, then lost his father in 2021, and then lost his friend in 2022 right before the NBA season started. While dealing with such losses before turning 22, Onyeka has learned to view life with a different perspective. He received the news of his father’s passing right before his 21st birthday. Onyeka recalled how he knew something wasn’t right, “It was kinda weird because, the days leading up to it, usually, for my birthday, even though I’m getting older in the NBA…he’d still ask me what I want for my birthday. And I hadn’t heard from him. It was kinda weird.” Onyeka was with the College Park Skyhawks (Atlanta’s G-League team) at the time, coming back from surgery, out at dinner with a friend in New York when he found out, prompting him to immediately leave the restaurant. He took some time away from the team to be with his family. “Time is so precious. And all the things we have here, you just can’t take it with you. The simple things in life are what mean the most to me; family, love, basketball.” Living by the mantra of “not taking anything for granted,” the losses Onyeka’s experienced in life have taught him how important time is.
Good memories of a parent who has transitioned can put a smile on your face or in your heart, whether they include grand gestures or seemingly mundane, everyday tasks. When Onyeka thinks of the fondest memory of his father, it involves basketball. “You know, my dad was always coming to my basketball games when I was younger, taking me to practice. Coming home from work around 3. Doing his routines, having to deal with me and my little siblings. Taking me to basketball, man, simple things. I miss those days.”
His dad, as Onyeka would describe him, was a quiet man who was older when Onyeka was born and dealt with Parkinson’s disease. But according to Onyeka’s aunties, his dad used to be a loud man, full of energy, who loved to dance (an attribute Onyeka did not get from him - “I’m not a dancer. That’s not me.”). When others recount stories, they can sometimes invoke memories of our own or simply introduce us to a side we weren’t aware even existed. Onyeka couldn’t immediately recall if his dad played sports but then remembered how his dad was the reason he played tennis at a really young age, “Actually, you know what?? I don’t know because when I was younger, me and my dad used to always play tennis. That’s how I got into the game of tennis.”
Parents don’t only introduce us to new adventures, sports or skills, they also give advice. This advice, in my experience, can often be rooted in keeping their children safe, whether it be physically or mentally. My dad used to always tell me to never have less than half a tank of gas (if I were going to downtown Atlanta but also, anywhere) in my car. One of those pieces of advice from Onyeka’s father? Making sure his door was locked. “Every night, at least five times a week, he’d always text me ‘Lock your door, lock your door, lock your door, lock your door. *laughs* You know, he grew up in Houston when he was my age. Dealing with thefts and robberies out there, always telling me to lock my doors, lock my doors, lock my door…EVERY night, lock my doors. Text me out of nowhere, lock my doors. He knew I lived by myself in LA. I always think about that.” Onyeka’s response to these frequent and repetitive texts? “Locked. Locked. Every time, it’s locked,” he told me with laughter.
What do you say to someone who has lost a parent or loved one? As much as I enjoy words and writings, this was never one of my strong suits. I would offer condolences, but words never felt like enough. Once more time has gone on, it was easier to talk. When my dad passed away, there was nothing anyone could say that truly made me feel better. As the days and months go by, I am more receptive to what people have to say about the situation. One thing is for sure, not one moment is promised, so it is best to cherish the ones you have left. Onyeka recognizes that, “Basically, I tell them just be around the loved ones that you have around you right now. You know, just embrace it. Think of it as a time of celebration of life, more so than grieving. Just remember the life they had, remember the good times they had. Obviously, you gonna still feel the pain but it’ll help you in the long run. Remember the memories you had with them just to keep their memory alive.”
If you go to the Instagram and Twitter pages of De’Andre Hunter, there is only one thing in his bio, “RIP Dad.” De’Andre’s father passed away when he was a child (seven years old) but he still remembers the day he knew something was wrong. “I was at school with my sister, and he usually picks us up after school, and [he] didn’t show up. We were just waiting there.” A family member eventually picked them up, and that’s when he knew. People would tell him it was hard for him to understand because he was so young, but he insisted he knew what it meant, “I got it. I’m not gonna be able to see my dad again.”
De’Andre’s father was a well-known guy in their Philadelphia neighborhood, mainly because of how he would put his basketball skills on display locally. “He was a neighborhood/playground player…everybody said he was real good. They called him ‘Beefy’ because he was real big. I wanna say, ‘cause I used to watch him play, I wanna say he was like a guard. I remember him, he used to handle the ball but he was like, big, though,” De'Andre remembered, a smile creeping across his face. De’Andre said his brother gets referred to often as “Beefy’s son” when he’s out and about, “You don’t even call him by his name. My dad was very respected in the neighborhood for sure. Everybody knew who he was, definitely.” Death, even at such a young age, can teach you things you don’t even know you’re prepared for. And I cannot say that you eventually move beyond it, but you learn how to deal with it. For De’Andre, that means talking to his dad and grandfather (who passed away in 2021) before every game. “I talk to him before every game. I talk to him and my grandpa before every game during the national anthem. I think about him almost every day. I mean, obviously, it’s like…sometimes you don’t. But like, majority of the time when I do something, I’m always like ‘Damn, it’d be cool if my dad was here,’ even my grandpa as well. He just passed [in 2021]. And they were like, big basketball fans.” That feeling of missing out doesn’t go away with age. When he sees other players getting to spend time with their fathers following a game, it can be difficult, “Like, when I see people have a good game, then they go talk to their dad afterwards, I can’t do that. I just be wanting those kind of moments. Like those big moments of my basketball career, ‘cause he was like my number one fan, he wanted me to be so good…Definitely wish he could be here and see me win the national championship, get drafted. I’m sure that would’ve made his whole life. Like, for sure.”
Though he doesn’t have many years of his childhood that he can remember spending with his father, De’Andre recalls some of his favorite memories involving them and the sport he now plays as a career. “I would probably have to say when we used to play like, me, him and my brother, we used to play in my backyard. Like just basketball. We used to shoot. They used to play one-on-one, you know, just to get at it, talking shit and all that but, I’d just be watching. But that was like my best moments for sure.”
Upon reflection, De’Andre appreciates how much time he was able to spend with his grandfather, especially as he grew older. “My grandpa used to take me to school, like almost two times a week, three times a week, like in high school…I wish, like looking back, that I could’ve like…I used to fall asleep, you know, like put my headphones on, he used to listen to his church music. But I wish I could take one more car ride, just talk to him the whole time.”
With those feelings of wanting “one more” time to spend with the loved one who is now physically gone, De’Andre would give this advice, “Stay as close to your remaining family members as possible.”
De’Andre credits his mom with taking over the role of being both parents after his father’s passing. Not only did she experience the heavy loss, she then faced raising four children without him. “She basically turned into both. Like, she was my dad and my mom. She did everything for me. Like, whatever I needed, she was there. I never really had to ask for much, I never knew how she was doing it, like she would just provide for our whole family, like me, my two sisters, and my brother.”
While his older siblings had more time with their father and more memories, there were instances when they would bring up memories of time spent with him, “Obviously it still hurts but, things get better over time.”
On this Father’s Day and every Father’s Day (and all of the days) to follow, I will miss my dad more than words can express. Life does indeed go on, there will still be sadness, there is no time stamp on when or even if I will “feel better.” One thing is for certain, I am thankful for the father I had and for his impact. I don’t feel like this is closing a chapter, I feel like it is merely the start to a new section of my journey that will include all of my father’s direct and indirect lessons. While I’ll miss seeing him in the stands at the arena, it’s comforting to know that I am part of the reason his memory will live on.
“You know you really gotta appreciate what you have while you got it.” Onyeka Okongwu lost his brother when Onyeka was a young teenager, then lost his father in 2021, and then lost his friend in 2022 right before the NBA season started. While dealing with such losses before turning 22, Onyeka has learned to view life with a different perspective. He received the news of his father’s passing right before his 21st birthday. Onyeka recalled how he knew something wasn’t right, “It was kinda weird because, the days leading up to it, usually, for my birthday, even though I’m getting older in the NBA…he’d still ask me what I want for my birthday. And I hadn’t heard from him. It was kinda weird.” Onyeka was with the College Park Skyhawks (Atlanta’s G-League team) at the time, coming back from surgery, out at dinner with a friend in New York when he found out, prompting him to immediately leave the restaurant. He took some time away from the team to be with his family. “Time is so precious. And all the things we have here, you just can’t take it with you. The simple things in life are what mean the most to me; family, love, basketball.” Living by the mantra of “not taking anything for granted,” the losses Onyeka’s experienced in life have taught him how important time is.
Good memories of a parent who has transitioned can put a smile on your face or in your heart, whether they include grand gestures or seemingly mundane, everyday tasks. When Onyeka thinks of the fondest memory of his father, it involves basketball. “You know, my dad was always coming to my basketball games when I was younger, taking me to practice. Coming home from work around 3. Doing his routines, having to deal with me and my little siblings. Taking me to basketball, man, simple things. I miss those days.”
His dad, as Onyeka would describe him, was a quiet man who was older when Onyeka was born and dealt with Parkinson’s disease. But according to Onyeka’s aunties, his dad used to be a loud man, full of energy, who loved to dance (an attribute Onyeka did not get from him - “I’m not a dancer. That’s not me.”). When others recount stories, they can sometimes invoke memories of our own or simply introduce us to a side we weren’t aware even existed. Onyeka couldn’t immediately recall if his dad played sports but then remembered how his dad was the reason he played tennis at a really young age, “Actually, you know what?? I don’t know because when I was younger, me and my dad used to always play tennis. That’s how I got into the game of tennis.”
Parents don’t only introduce us to new adventures, sports or skills, they also give advice. This advice, in my experience, can often be rooted in keeping their children safe, whether it be physically or mentally. My dad used to always tell me to never have less than half a tank of gas (if I were going to downtown Atlanta but also, anywhere) in my car. One of those pieces of advice from Onyeka’s father? Making sure his door was locked. “Every night, at least five times a week, he’d always text me ‘Lock your door, lock your door, lock your door, lock your door. *laughs* You know, he grew up in Houston when he was my age. Dealing with thefts and robberies out there, always telling me to lock my doors, lock my doors, lock my door…EVERY night, lock my doors. Text me out of nowhere, lock my doors. He knew I lived by myself in LA. I always think about that.” Onyeka’s response to these frequent and repetitive texts? “Locked. Locked. Every time, it’s locked,” he told me with laughter.
What do you say to someone who has lost a parent or loved one? As much as I enjoy words and writings, this was never one of my strong suits. I would offer condolences, but words never felt like enough. Once more time has gone on, it was easier to talk. When my dad passed away, there was nothing anyone could say that truly made me feel better. As the days and months go by, I am more receptive to what people have to say about the situation. One thing is for sure, not one moment is promised, so it is best to cherish the ones you have left. Onyeka recognizes that, “Basically, I tell them just be around the loved ones that you have around you right now. You know, just embrace it. Think of it as a time of celebration of life, more so than grieving. Just remember the life they had, remember the good times they had. Obviously, you gonna still feel the pain but it’ll help you in the long run. Remember the memories you had with them just to keep their memory alive.”
If you go to the Instagram and Twitter pages of De’Andre Hunter, there is only one thing in his bio, “RIP Dad.” De’Andre’s father passed away when he was a child (seven years old) but he still remembers the day he knew something was wrong. “I was at school with my sister, and he usually picks us up after school, and [he] didn’t show up. We were just waiting there.” A family member eventually picked them up, and that’s when he knew. People would tell him it was hard for him to understand because he was so young, but he insisted he knew what it meant, “I got it. I’m not gonna be able to see my dad again.”
De’Andre’s father was a well-known guy in their Philadelphia neighborhood, mainly because of how he would put his basketball skills on display locally. “He was a neighborhood/playground player…everybody said he was real good. They called him ‘Beefy’ because he was real big. I wanna say, ‘cause I used to watch him play, I wanna say he was like a guard. I remember him, he used to handle the ball but he was like, big, though,” De'Andre remembered, a smile creeping across his face. De’Andre said his brother gets referred to often as “Beefy’s son” when he’s out and about, “You don’t even call him by his name. My dad was very respected in the neighborhood for sure. Everybody knew who he was, definitely.” Death, even at such a young age, can teach you things you don’t even know you’re prepared for. And I cannot say that you eventually move beyond it, but you learn how to deal with it. For De’Andre, that means talking to his dad and grandfather (who passed away in 2021) before every game. “I talk to him before every game. I talk to him and my grandpa before every game during the national anthem. I think about him almost every day. I mean, obviously, it’s like…sometimes you don’t. But like, majority of the time when I do something, I’m always like ‘Damn, it’d be cool if my dad was here,’ even my grandpa as well. He just passed [in 2021]. And they were like, big basketball fans.” That feeling of missing out doesn’t go away with age. When he sees other players getting to spend time with their fathers following a game, it can be difficult, “Like, when I see people have a good game, then they go talk to their dad afterwards, I can’t do that. I just be wanting those kind of moments. Like those big moments of my basketball career, ‘cause he was like my number one fan, he wanted me to be so good…Definitely wish he could be here and see me win the national championship, get drafted. I’m sure that would’ve made his whole life. Like, for sure.”
Though he doesn’t have many years of his childhood that he can remember spending with his father, De’Andre recalls some of his favorite memories involving them and the sport he now plays as a career. “I would probably have to say when we used to play like, me, him and my brother, we used to play in my backyard. Like just basketball. We used to shoot. They used to play one-on-one, you know, just to get at it, talking shit and all that but, I’d just be watching. But that was like my best moments for sure.”
Upon reflection, De’Andre appreciates how much time he was able to spend with his grandfather, especially as he grew older. “My grandpa used to take me to school, like almost two times a week, three times a week, like in high school…I wish, like looking back, that I could’ve like…I used to fall asleep, you know, like put my headphones on, he used to listen to his church music. But I wish I could take one more car ride, just talk to him the whole time.”
With those feelings of wanting “one more” time to spend with the loved one who is now physically gone, De’Andre would give this advice, “Stay as close to your remaining family members as possible.”
De’Andre credits his mom with taking over the role of being both parents after his father’s passing. Not only did she experience the heavy loss, she then faced raising four children without him. “She basically turned into both. Like, she was my dad and my mom. She did everything for me. Like, whatever I needed, she was there. I never really had to ask for much, I never knew how she was doing it, like she would just provide for our whole family, like me, my two sisters, and my brother.”
While his older siblings had more time with their father and more memories, there were instances when they would bring up memories of time spent with him, “Obviously it still hurts but, things get better over time.”
On this Father’s Day and every Father’s Day (and all of the days) to follow, I will miss my dad more than words can express. Life does indeed go on, there will still be sadness, there is no time stamp on when or even if I will “feel better.” One thing is for certain, I am thankful for the father I had and for his impact. I don’t feel like this is closing a chapter, I feel like it is merely the start to a new section of my journey that will include all of my father’s direct and indirect lessons. While I’ll miss seeing him in the stands at the arena, it’s comforting to know that I am part of the reason his memory will live on.