Don Juan
Page 2 The elder Wagner pushed his son. Not in the strict, regimented style of an unfulfilled high school hero who sees the life he never had in the talents of his offspring. No, “Ice” already had his fame - a national championship at Louisville, a title in the late eighties with the Lakers. Instead, Milt saw himself in Dajuan and he knew the life his son would face. The man who was, and still is, the legend of Camden hoops had fathered a boy who was destined to become the same. Dajuan had to be pushed; he had to be prepared. As a toddler, Dajuan would grab his nerf ball and leap from the living room steps, trying to mimic the same moves he saw his daddy make on television. By the time he was six, the young Wagner was already ballin’ in organized leagues against dudes who were older and bigger – but not better. Milt already realized what the future held for the young Juanny. In Camden, the blessing of being Milt’s child is also the curse of being Milt’s child. The child prodigy was already labeled Lil’ Wag, Lil’ Milt, Lil’ Ice. “I let him know before he decided to get serious with playing that his life would be different,” Milt said. “There was a pressure that went along with being my son. I wanted to make sure he understood that he would be hearing the comparisons his entire life. He told me he was willing to take on the task.” When Dajuan reached fifth grade, he was a starter on the middle school team. At each game, it seemed as if the entire city of Camden came out just to see him ball. (His handle couldn’t be that tight, could it?) By the time he left as an eighth grader, he had won four championships and was seen as the next coming. "Perhaps Milt’s kid is the one who can bring us back to the top,” they would say. Dajuan had a new label: “Camden’s Messiah.” ***
|
