First Impressions

TYRELL’S MOTHER, Carrie Grise, raised him by herself since he was a baby. She taught him to be respectful, especially to adults, and to take responsibility for his own actions.

An only child for his first 9 years, Tyrell was shy – to a fault he would say. But his mother’s lessons took hold. In a conversation for this story, Tyrell’s shyness was something that could be perceived under the surface, but maturity had evened it out so that he came across as soft-spoken, but also very real and honest.

“He actually was an easy kid growing up,” Carrie said. “He barely got in trouble. He would help out around the house without asking. Well-rounded, a hard-work ethic. You never had to tell him to do his homework, he was always doing it on his own. He actually used to ask his teacher for more homework. Not sure what kid does that.”

The worst thing Tyrell did to get in trouble?

“Sometimes, he would forget to close the garage door,” she admitted.

A physical therapist, Carrie worked in outpatient sports medicine for 12 years and now in home care with mostly elderly. When Carrie was occupied, Tyrell was content to spend hours on his own, watching movies.

These weren’t exactly “Gone with the Wind,” or “The Godfather.” It was ‘Space Jam,” “Air Bud,” and “Like Mike.”

“If you ask my mom, she’s probably seen ‘Air Bud’ hundreds of times because of me,” he said.

If a dunking dog won’t make you fall in love with basketball, what will?

When Tyrell was 5, they had just moved to Minneapolis from Grand Forks, North Dakota, where Carrie was a graduate student. Walking through the massive Mall of America, Carrie chanced upon a college friend, Larry Suggs, who lived in the area.

Suggs had played college basketball and Carrie asked if he knew of a league where Tyrell could join a team. Larry did more than that, he offered to teach Tyrell the game.

“That’s when things started to turn the corner, as far as his focus on basketball,” Carrie said.

Tyrell describes Suggs as a mentor and father figure.

“He had a great basketball mind,” Tyrell said. “From the age of 5 to 13, I would be at Larry’s house all the time with his son who would become a close friend. We’d go to high school games, we’d watch the NBA together. And he would just teach us, both of us, everything we needed to know about the game.”

From a young age, Suggs taught Tyrell ballhandling skills.

“We were doing two-ball dribbling at age 7,” Tyrell said. “I definitely owe him a lot of credit for my development as a player.”

Nothing was left to chance.

“We used to practice interviews, because he said that would happen at some point,” Tyrell said. “At the moment, I was like, What the heck? Now I look back and it’s pretty funny.”

The one caveat to playing with a talented friend was that Tyrell was frequently compared to him, and frequently came up short. Larry’s son is a high school senior point guard and five-star recruit. Growing up, Tyrell was more of a passer and Suggs’ son more of a scorer. But Tyrell looked like a waif to his taller and stronger teammate.  

The comparisons hurt Tyrell, and his confidence took a beating. Also, DeLaSalle coach Dave Thorson was demanding, especially of Tyrell.

“I think he had about had it,” Carrie said. “I said, ‘A lot of coaches are hard on you because they see great potential in you.’

“He always thought he wasn’t good enough. His biggest obstacle was his self-doubt. He didn’t realize how good he actually was, not only as a basketball player, but academically, and how good of a man he was becoming”

Carrie remembers a talk with Tyrell as a freshman. The message was simple: Believe in yourself.

“Keep working hard and you’ll get noticed,” she said.

And that’s what Tyrell did.

“As far as confidence, I struggled with that growing up,” he said. “When I started getting confidence in myself, things started to take off for me.”

TYRELL ALWAYS WAS the small skinny kid, but he found a way to use his body to his advantage. He couldn’t out-muscle people or tower over them, but he learned to play to his strengths and weaknesses. He was quick, smart, and crafty. He could read the court and attack the defense. He knew when and where to throw the pass that would lead to an easy basket.

“I recruited him to be on our 15U team,” said Jay Fuhrmann, coach with D1 Minnesota, an elite AAU club. “A friend of mine told me about him, so I went and watched him at DeLaSalle when he was a freshman.

“He didn’t look like this gigantic massive athlete, but then all of a sudden, you see him on the court and, just the way he moves and his feel and his presence … it’s just different.

“I fell in love with him. He didn’t even take a shot the entire game. The way the ball came out of his hands and hit his teammates perfectly, wherever they needed it. You just don’t see that. He wowed me. It’s very rare that a kid wows you and he doesn’t even shoot, you know what I mean?”

With D1 Minnesota, Tyrell’s game advanced another level. He became a leader and a shooter.

In the Adidas 17U Gauntlet Series championship:

“To start the game, they picked him up full court,” Fuhrmann said. “They were talking trash to Tyrell and were trying to get physical. I was about to say something to Tyrell and he kind of looked at me, and gave me these eyes. I’m like, OK, he’s got this.”

On his team’s first possession, Terry was shadowed as he dribbled upcourt. As he crossed midcourt, Terry dropped his man with a crossover and attacked the basket. A post player had position, but Terry never broke stride, racing past the big man for a reverse layup.

“He torched those guys,” Fuhrmann said. “They had to pull their point guard and sit him the entire second half, and we won in overtime. Those things happened all the time. He loves the big moments. He loves to be challenged. He loves to be overlooked.”

COHEN SAW TERRY’S ability unfold in front of him on that fall morning. It took only seconds to make a decision.

“I knew this was the guy,” Cohen said. “He had an unbelievable feel. You could tell how much he cared about winning. He took every big shot in every single pickup game.”

Cohen immediately called Jerod Haase, Stanford’s Anne and Tony Joseph Director of Men’s Basketball.

“Coach, this is the guy we want,” he said.

Stanford never offered a scholarship to another point guard in that class. Terry was the only one they wanted, and Stanford was willing to wait on him before offering anyone else. Even though other schools knew about Terry and wanted him too, Stanford got there early and was all in.

“I remember going out there and I was blown away by the decision making, his shooting ability, by the presence he had,” Haase said. “He had an unbelievable presence that was bigger than the game.”

In AAU, Haase noticed that Terry’s team passed the ball and was unselfish. It’s rare to see such team play in that environment.

No wonder, Fuhrmann said. Terry’s play was “contagious.”

“That can be bad or good,” Fuhrmann said. “If somebody’s overdribbling and the ball’s not moving well and people are taking bad shots, that can be contagious. But every team that Ty’s been on, that ball comes out of his hands and people end up making that extra pass. That’s the contagious thing he brings.”

Terry won three state championships at DeLaSalle, including a surprising title his senior year, when many thought the Islanders’ dynasty was over when they failed to win the championship the year before under a new coach.

When Terry finished his prep career with 19 points and 10 assists in a 63-56 victory over Waseca at the Target Center in the state 3A final, he long had committed to Stanford. It was hardly a contest. He committed before he even saw the campus.