Swanson: Coolest gift? When athletes make time for who’s got next

Give me one pinch-me moment and I’ll remember it forever. Give me a second pinch-me moment and … I’ll remember it forever.

That’s what Lakers center Deandre Ayton seemed to be saying as he reflected on a couple core memories, one from when he was a rising sophomore in high school and the other one fresh, from just that night, Nov. 18, LeBron James’ season debut and his first game as Ayton’s teammate.

“Fun fact,” Ayton said he told James: “That’s my second alley-oop from you. The first one was when I was [a rising high school sophomore] at your camp.”

“[James] was court-hopping and playing with the campers and I remember the one play of him in the drill with me,” Ayton continued. “He threw that alley-oop, and I finished it.”

Indelible moments created for impressionable youth, inspiration that lasts a lifetime. The greatest gift an athlete can give, really: A memory made, an experience, time and expertise. An outstretched hand to who’s got next.

It’s Dodgers pitcher Roki Sasaki hosting a baseball class this past week for 170 children in Suzu City, Ishikawa Prefecture, a city hit hard by the Noto Peninsula earthquake last year. It was Tiger Woods giving superhero vibes and shot-shaping tips at his foundation’s camp almost two decades ago, an experience that lives on with now-grown golfers today.

It was high school sophomore Sydney “Bean” Douglas, a prep phenom at Corona Centennial, spending Saturday answering questions – from “Who’s the G.O.A.T.?” to “What’s your GPA?” – after choreographing TikTok dances with 120-some young hoopers at her first basketball camp, a four-hour affair open to boys and girls from second to eighth grade, no charge.

It’s two-time Olympic bronze medalist fencer Nick Itkin leading monthly classes at the Los Angeles International Fencing Center, his family’s training facility in L.A., and charging nothing for them. Come one, come all, one Sunday a month, from 10-11:30 a.m. Step right up for a chance to learn the fundamentals of one of the world’s coolest sports from one of the best in the world at it.

Itkin, 26, is a bright-eyed, laid-back dude with an easy chuckle and a beat-up bronze medal from the men’s foil event at the Paris Olympics – and a passion for his family’s sport that he’s determined to pass on.

Douglas is a totally normal teen, on the shy side, on the sweet side, standing 6 feet, 7 inches, with an elite, ever-sharper skillset. Also, 174,000 Instagram followers, a loyal following in the Inland Empire and a passion for her family’s sport that she’s eager to share with her community.

It’s about giving back, they both told me. Or, you might say, giving back and paying it forward.

“First of all, it’s obviously great for the kids,” said Itkin, a Palisades High School graduate who competed collegiately at Notre Dame. “It can change their lives, create a whole new opportunity. Fencing, you can get a scholarship to a great university. And it teaches you to be quick on your feet. It’s a mental sport, it’s a physical sport, so you’re obviously growing a lot doing it. But also, this is the sport that I love, and I think it can grow so much more.”

Said Douglas: “I just wanted to do it to give back to the community that supports me. I honestly did it to have fun, it was something cool to do and help grow my brand and to interact with kids – I didn’t think it would be a hit like that.”

View this post on Instagram

Douglas decided she wanted to host a camp after helping out with one the Jr. NBA/Jr. WNBA put on in New York. She thought it was something she could do at home. Something she should do. She would’ve been thrilled if 30 kids showed interest, she said. And then 155 RSVP’d. (Anyone have any questions left about the appeal of women’s and girls’ basketball?)

With an assist from the Jr. NBA/Jr. WNBA to help cover food and balls and a few other goodies, and with some organizational help from her coaches and family, including her mom, former Perris, UCLA and WNBA standout Maylana Martin, Douglas did it: She threw a big ol’ basketball bash.

Amidst the joyous cacophony of 120-some balls bouncing in the Huskies’ gym, Douglas and her team ran station-by-station basketball education. Centennial coaches and players taught kids about passing and ball-handling, rebounding and agility work, shooting and layups. But it was the last station in the hallway that really got them going – Douglas’ TikTok station.

For the uninitiated, that looked like this: Small groups of campers choreographing a few moves with Douglas, who then recorded each group dancing with her, all in the six minutes before it was time to switch stations. Imagine practicing drawing up a late-game play, but for dance steps instead of step-throughs.

“She was like, ‘I want to do a TikTok station,’” mom Maylana said. “And I’m like, ‘Then do a TikTok Station!’”

Honestly, it’s a necessary modern component to make a basketball team’s dream work. And it was adorable, and, surely, memorable for kids like Jay Ceeon, a 12-year-old point guard who arrived Saturday as a fan of Douglas’: “I’ve watched her highlights,” he told me. “Still do!”

File it under: Technology isn’t all bad. Because just as Cesar Rodriguez marveled at how much the training video clips Douglas posts on Instagram inspire his 11-year-old daughter Nevaeh to practice; watching the little campers make TikToks with the camp’s host – all of which she spliced together and posted on Instagram to a Katy Perry song – made me marvel at what quick studies they are.

View this post on Instagram

Itkin said he’s been inspired by Peter Westbrook and his successful foundation, as well as Nzingha Prescod’s PISTE Academy, both endeavors that have made fencing more accessible to under-resourced communities in New York.

“The Peter Westbrook Foundation, for example, has built like many Olympians,” Itkin said. “But we have nothing at all on the West Coast like that, that I know of. So the goal is to, like, bring people from everywhere, that’s what I’m trying to do.”

Through some trial and error, Itkin has landed on a good balance of what to teach kids in these sessions: “If I explain too much, then they’re gonna get bored,” he said. “And if I just let them go at it, then they have no idea what they’re doing. So I’m starting to understand the perfect amount of teaching things, like, letting them just go at each other.”

Do be ready for a pop quiz, kids: What are the three disciplines of fencing? (The answer: foil, épée, sabre.)

Zachariah Hoover, a 14-year-old from the Calabasas area, was one of a quartet of pupils who showed up to Itkin’s most recent clinic on Nov. 30. Hoover actually fenced a little before, he said, but not in a few years: “I used to watch anime and I really liked the swords, so I asked my mom if I could be a swordsman. And then she told me about this sport.”

He was being reminded how much a foil (plastic, in these newbies’ case) can “wear out your shoulder blade,” how hot the mask can get and, yes, how great it feels to “push through,” to “really just have to lock in with your inner self.”

That’s the kind of experience that might stay with someone for a bit. Or forever.