Killer Crossover, page 1
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Praise for Tim Hardaway and Killer Crossover
“Chicago Hall of Famer Tim Hardaway has done what only a few NBA players have done: he left his permanent mark on the game!”
—Isiah Thomas, NBA Hall of Famer
“Tim Hardaway had great handles, a deadly jump shot and the best crossover dribble in the NBA. He also had the heart of a lion. But he was definitely one of the coolest guys you could ever meet. Absolutely an NBA Great.”
—Shawn Kemp, six-time NBA All-Star
“When I was a young assistant coach first in the NBA, Tim Hardaway taught me as much about NBA basketball, in particular pick and roll basketball, as any coach ever did.”
—Stan Van Gundy, iconic NBA coach and broadcaster
“Tim Hardaway was an excellent player. He didn’t have great length but he made up for it with his solid body and tenacity. He could play the point or the big guard spot. He could guard players bigger than him. On offense, he had great quickness and was always a threat to beat his defender off the dribble. His killer crossover was as good as there ever was. I had the pleasure of coaching him in the 2000 Olympics in Sydney (Australia), where we won gold.”
—Rudy Tomjanovich, two-time NBA champion coach
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Copyright © 2025 by Tim Hardaway Sr., with Jacob Uitti
Foreword copyright © 2025 by Chris Mullin
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available on file.
Cover design by Brian Peterson
Cover photo credit: Getty Images
All insert photographs, unless otherwise noted, are courtesy of the author.
Print ISBN: 978-1-68358-506-0
Ebook ISBN: 978-1-68358-507-7
Printed in the United States of America
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I want to dedicate this book, of course, to my parents, Gwendolyn and Donald Hardaway.
I also wish to dedicate it to Minne Eubanks (a.k.a. “Mother, Mother”), my brother Donald Hardaway, my grammar school coach Donald Pittman and my high school coaches Bob Walters and Willie Richie. I’d like to recognize all the faculty at Carver High School, including Miss Hunter, Miss Smith, Mr. and Mrs. Sailes and Mr. Owens, to name a few. I’d also like to dedicate this to all my teammates at Kohn Elementary and Carver High School. As well as my uncles and aunties and my cousins. I’d like to also shout out Kyron, Mike Fuller, Louis Fuller, Kim Fuller, Yvette, Sandra and Jackie. To all my friends like Alonzo Meadows, Mike and Donald Reese, JJ Anderson, Vernado Parker, Buster, Benny Henry—this is for you. And all the people at Eckersaw Park and South Shore park. To my sister-in-law Geraldine (aka Koon and Jerry) and my mother-in-law (God rest her soul) Mrs. Miller. And finally to my lovely wife Yolanda, who without you this never would have been possible, son Tim Jr. and daughters Nia and Nina. Thank you with all my heart.
—Tim
For Sparky and the Boys
—Jake
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Contents
Foreword
Preface
Prologue
Introduction
Chapter 1: Donald and Gwendolyn Hardaway
Chapter 2: Carver High
Chapter 3: Growing Up at UTEP
Chapter 4: With the Fourteenth Pick …
Chapter 5: Run-TMC
Chapter 6: Breaking Up the Band
Chapter 7: Change, Family, and My ACL
Chapter 8: From the Bay to South Beach
Chapter 9: Pat Riley
Chapter 10: F*** the Knicks!
Chapter 11: A Lockout and the Bouncing Buzzer-Beater
Chapter 12: USA! USA! USA!
Chapter 13: Old Friends, New Role
Chapter 14: My Boy’s a Baller
Chapter 15: Taking Responsibility
Chapter 16: From the South Side to Springfield
Index
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Foreword
My first memory of Tim is from his first NBA press conference. I’d never really seen him play before that, so when the Warriors drafted him he came in for his introductory press conference and, almost immediately after, wanted to go play pickup. So some of the guys from the Warriors went to play pickup ball the next day and that’s how I first got to know him. I remember he was overly confident, boisterous and loud. But he also backed it up with his play.
Tim had that rare combination of a young player coming into the league mixed with incredible confidence—somewhat irrational confidence, to be honest—but still confident. You could just see he loved to play the game, to compete. That’s what he wanted to do. To play. You could see that was his main focus in life, like all of us at that point in time. With Tim, you had to watch and listen—because he was talking all the time!
As a player, he had the whole package. I think with Tim, we were like, Man, we haven’t seen a guy ball like this before! He was on the smaller side for a guard, but played in the paint and could finish over anyone, it didn’t matter the size. He had a unique combination of skills, both inside and out. He loved to play in the post like a big man (unique at the time for a guy under 6 feet tall), but was dynamic in the pick and roll while also being able to knock down threes and floaters.
xii When you watched and listened to him, you realized the guy was unique. I think that was what kept him apart from a lot of players in the NBA. Such a special combination of skill and confidence. But his game itself was special. There weren’t many guys like him at the time. He had a unique body type, a strong lower body and center of gravity. Balance. And he had this crazy change of direction.
Tim could blow by anybody off the dribble at will. No one could keep him in front of them. If you sent a bigger guy at Tim, he would dribble past them. Or if you sent a smaller guy, Tim could take them into the post. There was no answer for what he brought to the court. You don’t even see that kind of thing in today’s game. Maybe a few guys, but not many. Maybe they can shoot threes, but they can’t go to the post or vice versa. But Tim had it all.
As teammates, we fit together perfectly from day one. That was the greatest thing. First and foremost, it was over basketball. He had that love and desire and passion for practicing, for being in the gym. We did everything from play one-on-one or two-on-two to shooting and working out. That’s where our bond first started.
And then, over time, our families became close, which is what you hope for with most teammates. You find out that you have more in common than you have differences. I got to meet his mom and dad over time, and then his kids were born and I got to spend time with the whole family. But our relationship first originated in the gym over basketball and just grew from there.
When it came to Run-TMC, I was the first on the team, obviously, because I was the oldest. Mitch Richmond came second and he was just as great a rookie as Tim—Rookie of the Year, xiii20 points per game, came in as a polished pro from the jump. But with me and Mitch—he was a two-guard and I was playing small forward at the time—we were missing a point guard. And we were fortunate enough to draft Tim, who was the missing piece.
Not just me and Mitch, but the entire team, the entire organization, the entire Bay Area and our fans became energized. We saw this hope with this young nucleus. Not only did our skills fit perfectly, but our personalities—which are all different—wound up fitting perfectly, too. One of us would be talking, the other would be quiet, the third would be ready to jump in. We each had different leadership styles, and all that fit perfectly on the court.
When Tim came in as a rookie, Don Nelson was an established coach and GM of the Year. He had coached in the league for more than a decade, and worked with some incredible players by the time he’d come to Golden State. He not only knew talent, but he knew what needed to be done to bring a contending team together. So, Tim coming in as the starter was great. We had thirty days of training camp and a lot of that stuff was established in practice. We knew our top eight guys. We had our team.
Today, if I had to think of one moment that sums up Tim Hardaway … well, there are really so many. Because Tim had two Hall of Fame careers—one with the Warriors and one with the Heat. He had two incredible careers that were both very different. He wasn’t blowing by people as much in Miami, but was still as effective with the three-pointer and being a dynamic playmaker and assist guy.
But there’s this clip of Tim when we were together in Golden State and we were playing against the Suns. He gets down the xivlane and delivers a floater over Charles Barkley, and Barkley fouls him. But when Tim makes the bucket, he goes, “Yeah! In your face!” Right in Barkley’s face! To me, that’s Tim. It could have
—Chris Mullin
NBA Hall of Famer
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Preface
You can’t grow up a fan of the NBA in the ’90s and not know the name Tim Hardaway. He was a star in every facet of the game, from his signature crossover and trash talking to his buzzer-beaters and culture-defining teams. Little did I know as a burgeoning basketball fan that I would not only work with the great point guard on his memoir, but also have the opportunity to get to know him as a friend and an excellent storyteller. Tim is easy to talk to, he’s both honest and forthcoming. He has a clear perspective on who he is. He’s not scared. In short, he’s game.
Tim’s story is essential to the history of basketball, but it’s also essential on a human level. He grew up in Chicago and suffered the general abuses of an unforgiving, relentless, and at times violent city. He also suffered the specific hardships of an abusive home. Of course, Tim is not alone in that type of upbringing. But he is one of the few to rise up from such an origin story and find himself—through hard work and determination—at the pinnacle of his craft, being a five-time All-NBA player and at one time the best point guard in the league.
Often talking but never snarling, Tim was a wonder on the court. Thanks to his quick-as-lightning handle, and move known as “The Killer Crossover,” he became a household name and, as a result, remains basketball royalty. Standing just shy of six feet, Tim wasn’t blessed with imposing height or world-class xviathleticism. But what he did have was a will to always get better. To take on all challenges and never fear the possibility of failure.
We all fall sometimes, but are not defined by our worst days. I still remember where I was when I heard what Tim said about gay people in 2007, and the feeling of disappointment that a hero could be so close minded. But what is more remarkable is the change Tim has undergone since. It’s a statement he regrets and it’s one he’s done everything to make up for. That is the mark of a champion. We are all fallible, we are all mistaken at times, but few of us change. Yet, admirably, that is what Tim did.
In life, the idea is to keep learning and improving. With hope, this book will show how Tim’s childhood, growing up around gangs in Chicago, shaped his basketball ability and how he never stopped improving himself. The father of an NBA player (Tim Hardaway Jr.), Tim has been able to achieve a great deal in his life through the years … but he wasn’t necessarily meant to, given where he came from.
Tim, to me, is exactly the type of person I want to be when I grow up. Accomplished, charismatic, and striving to always be a better person.
—Jake Uitti
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Prologue
I’ll always remember February 14, 2007. It was the day my life changed forever. That morning, I made an appearance on The Dan Le Batard Show in Miami. I’d talked with Dan plenty of times and felt comfortable on his show. But it was at the end of our conversation that he asked me one more question. It wasn’t a “gotcha” question—it was fair, and I was given the space to answer it however I wanted. As it turned out, I said the wrong thing and not only did I shoot myself in the foot, but I hurt a lot of people in the process—something I’ll regret for the rest of my life.
Former NBA player John Amaechi, a 6-foot-10 center who’d played a handful of years in the league, had just come out as gay. So, Dan asked me, “last question before we let you go. How do you deal with a gay teammate?” I could have easily said having a gay teammate didn’t bother me—let them live their lives and me live mine. That could have been the end of it. Instead, though, I went on a rant, saying I hated gay people. Dan rightly pointed out that my statement was bigoted. When we hung up the phone, I had no idea how badly I’d screwed up.
It has taken me fifteen years to make up for what I said and I will continue to do so for the rest of my life. I will go deeper into what happened after I made those comments on Dan’s show later in the book but, suffice to say, while I am not proud at all xviiiof what I said or how I thought about homosexuality then, what I am proud of today is the growth I’ve made. I have learned a lot about the people who I’d previously worked to distance myself from. That’s a positive outcome, and I hope those efforts have made other people’s lives at least a little bit better, too.
In the following pages, you’ll read about my life growing up in Chicago, the gang violence that surrounded me, my abusive childhood, my connection to family, and my basketball career from grammar school to NBA All-Star. You’ll read about my journey as a husband and father, a coach and, finally, a Hall of Famer. What I’m proud of most, though, is my ability to grow. It’s not easy—that’s for sure! But it is necessary. I’m truly sorry for what I said to Dan in 2007, and I know I can’t demand forgiveness. I just hope I can show that I’ve become a better man since then.
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Introduction
It all started with Magic Johnson. That glitzy and glamorous 6-foot-9 point guard for the Los Angeles Lakers is the one responsible for naming my most famous move. It happened in 1991, when my Run-TMC Golden State Warriors were set to play his Showtime Los Angeles Lakers in the second round of the playoffs. Some reporters were asking Magic about the matchup. So, he went through our roster, listing off which player he was concerned with most.
Mitch Richmond, he said, he’s the rock. He’s going to come down the court and he’s going to bully you. He’s going to take you to the hole and score over you. Chris Mullin, Magic continued, he’s a shooter. He can shoot from anywhere. He has finesse, he’s just real smooth. Then he got to me. Tim Hardaway, he said, the killer crossover. If you’re not ready for it, he’s going to cross you up and make you look bad on the court.
With that—and without evening knowing it—Magic gave me my signature moniker. The term, The Killer Crossover, stuck with me my entire career. Stephen Curry, another great Golden State Warrior, has called it the greatest signature move in NBA history, while Magic has also said that I was the best crossover dribbler that he’s ever seen! But fame for a move wasn’t something I ever thought would happen. I have to tip my hat and thank Magic for that one.
xx Maybe he was trying to get on our good side and make us relax a bit before a big series—Magic always had some idea of how to get an edge. But, looking back, I’m very grateful for what he said. Even after I retired and was inducted into the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame in 2022, The Killer Crossover has been a part of my life. From playing in Golden State to Miami, from big wins to horrible losses, it’s as much a part of me as the name on my birth certificate.
All my life, I’ve been shorter than just about everyone I’ve stepped onto the court with. So I had to invent ways to get open, to work hard for every half-inch. From the streets of Chicago to the NBA, I had to develop moves to get past people that were more physically imposing. Guys try to push or steer you one way, so I had to use that to my advantage. Almost like judo, I learned to get their momentum going one way and then I’d switch it up on them. That way, I could beat my man and score.
Here’s how The Killer Crossover works: When I’m coming down the court, I’m looking at my defender’s feet to decide which way to go. I see which way they’re pointing, and when he checks me, I take him one way, against his feet, dip my shoulder, and boom-boom, one dribble-two dribble. I’m gone. He’s lucky if he’s still standing. All of a sudden I’m at the rim, shooting over a guy like Hakeem Olajuwon or David Robinson.
Once I make a move and get past my man, I keep him behind me, using my ass or hips—almost like a stiff arm in football. He’s trailing me and he’s helpless. If someone came to double-team me, I’d hit the open man—like Chris Mullin, Mitch Richmond, or Alonzo Mourning—and it would be over. My dribble would be so fast and tight—it was “in the box,” as we used to say; xxibetween my hips and shoulders—that your eyes couldn’t track it. Like a magic trick from Houdini.
