The older I get, the more I appreciate players differently. When you’re young and competing against somebody, you’re worried about rankings, points, championships, newspaper awards and who everybody thinks is better.
Years later, you don’t care about all that nearly as much. You can just sit back and say: Man, that dude could really play.
That’s how I feel about Brandon Fuss-Cheatham.
And I saw this one up close.
Brandon wasn’t just a great player at Blackhawk. He was one of the most fundamentally sound basketball players I’ve ever seen come through Western Pennsylvania.
If this was a video game and I was giving out ratings? Ball handling: 99. Decision-making: 99. Basketball IQ: 99.
He was skilled, cerebral and always under control. And looking back now, I realize something else: Brandon Fuss-Cheatham was almost the perfect Blackhawk basketball player.
He Fit Blackhawk to a T
Brandon actually started his high school career at Keystone Oaks before ending up at Blackhawk.
And once he got there? Perfect fit.
If you know the history of Blackhawk basketball, you know what I’m talking about. Fundamentals. Execution. Skill development. Discipline. Players who knew how to play.
I always respected Blackhawk because of that tradition, but I’ll admit something: I was cocky as hell in high school. Then Blackhawk gave me a little reality check.
My senior year at Penn Hills was Brandon’s junior year at Blackhawk, and we played them.
They beat us by about 50.
I’m not exaggerating when I say it felt like Blackhawk had a personal vendetta against the entire Penn Hills community that day. They didn’t just beat us. They embarrassed us. Bad. And sometimes you need that.
I definitely did.
Because that game made me respect what Blackhawk basketball was about on another level.
Brandon’s Resume Was Crazy
People need to remember how accomplished Brandon was in high school.
He was a three-time Pittsburgh Post-Gazette Fab 5 selection. He finished his career with 2,278 points, which at the time ranked eighth in WPIAL history. As a senior, he averaged 27.1 points, 2.7 assists and 2.5 steals. He was a four-year starter whose teams won 105 games. Two WPIAL championships. One PIAA state championship. And by his senior season, some scouting services had him ranked among the top 10 point guards in the country.
That’s not just a good high school career. That’s an all-time Western Pennsylvania basketball resume.
He eventually went to Ohio State and became a starter there, starting 20 games as a junior and 22 as a senior.
But before Ohio State, before Big Ten basketball, before all of that, I already knew Brandon was going to be special. Because we went back.
I Saw It Before Blackhawk
Brandon and I grew up playing basketball around each other.
In 1995, we were backcourt teammates when we won a gold medal together at the Hershey games. So I knew Brandon before everybody was talking about him as one of the best point guards in the country.And even back then, you could see it.
He was going to be a star.
His father deserves a lot of credit for that too. The way Brandon was trained was different. His dad would call me sometimes and ask me to come work out with them. I’d decline.
I’m serious.
Those workouts were REAL. I knew what I was signing up for, and young Drew wasn’t always trying to hear that. I wanted to hoop. Don’t give me 500 drills. Give me the basketball and let’s play.
Looking back, though, I understand why Brandon became the player he became.
He was trained. He was developed. His fundamentals were drilled into him. And it showed every time he stepped onto a basketball court.
Then He Took My Player of the Year
Now we have to talk about this part.
Because almost 30 years later, I can laugh about it. At the time? I wasn’t laughing at all.
My senior year at Penn Hills, I thought I had Pittsburgh Post-Gazette Player of the Year LOCKED UP.
And I’m not going to pretend I didn’t have a case. We won the Quad-A WPIAL championship. I was the No. 1 scorer in the WPIAL. I scored 147 points in four WPIAL playoff games, setting the WPIAL playoff scoring record. We had started the season ranked No. 1 in the state, but by the playoffs we were an 8 seed. Then we went on this magical championship run.
And I was scoring like crazy.
I finished my high school career with more than 2,318 points, with 2,300 coming in my final three seasons. I was a Top 100 national recruit. I was killing the AAU circuit. I was committed to West Virginia. So in my teenage mind, there wasn’t even a discussion. Player of the Year? That’s Drew.
Then Mike White gave it to Brandon Fuss-Cheatham. A JUNIOR.
Man….. I was HOT.
I wanted to fight Mike White. Not literally — but that’s how mad young Drew was about basketball back then.
I’m thinking, What else was I supposed to do?! Win the WPIAL championship? Check. Lead the WPIAL in scoring? Check. Break the playoff scoring record? Check. Put together one of the greatest playoff scoring runs in WPIAL history? Check.
And Mike still picked Brandon.
I probably didn’t want to admit this part back then: Brandon was that damn good.
We Were Never The Same Player
People always wanted to compare us.
Drew Schifino or Brandon Fuss-Cheatham? Who was better? Who would you rather have?
They tried to make it into some rivalry.
I never really looked at it like that because we were completely different basketball players. I was a scorer. Give me the ball and I was trying to get downhill, get to that rim, finish through somebody or dunk it.
Brandon was a true point guard. He could score, don’t get that confused. And he could shoot that rock. But he was a facilitator. He controlled games. He made decisions. He handled the basketball at an elite level. He saw things developing.
I played with aggression and instinct. Brandon played like somebody had already shown him the next three moves on the chessboard. That’s why comparing us never made much sense to me.
We could’ve played together easily. Actually, we already had.
Blackhawk Developed Players Differently
As I’ve gotten older and started looking back at Western Pennsylvania basketball history, I’ve realized something about that era. There was a difference between programs.
At Penn Hills, we had some unbelievable athletes. We had dudes who could run, jump and just GO. A lot of us were naturally gifted.
Blackhawk had talent too, obviously. But their players were developed differently. Those kids WORKED on basketball. Footwork. Ball handling. Shooting. Passing. Reads. Repetition. Fundamentals. The stuff I didn’t always have the patience for when I was young.
And Brandon Fuss-Cheatham was probably one of the best examples of what that development could produce.
His game was polished. Nothing looked accidental.
You Appreciate Greatness More With Age
That’s really why I’m writing this.
Not to restart some 1990s debate about who was better. I don’t care about that anymore. We were both great players. We were just great in completely different ways.
And Brandon deserves his flowers.
I also have a lot of love for his family. I loved his dad, and I had a lot of love and respect for his mother. May she rest in peace — a beautiful soul.
When you’ve known somebody since you were kids, you see their career differently.
I watched Brandon before Blackhawk. I played beside him. I played against him. I watched him become a star. I watched him win championships. I watched him become a three-time Fab 5 player. I watched him become one of the highest-ranked point guards in America.
And, yes, I watched him take the Player of the Year award that I was absolutely convinced belonged in my house.
I’m finally over it, Mike White. Mostly.
But seriously, as the years pass, I’ve developed an even greater appreciation for Brandon Fuss-Cheatham. Because when you remove the rankings, awards, comparisons and teenage egos, you’re left with the basketball. And that dude could play.
One of the smartest guards I played against. One of the best ball handlers I saw. One of the most fundamentally sound players Western Pennsylvania produced during our era.
Brandon Fuss-Cheatham, these flowers are for you. You earned every one of them.