Sometimes people influence your life without either one of you realizing it at the time. That’s what Jesse Washington did for me.
Jesse Washington is a senior writer for ESPN’s Andscape, an author, a journalist and somebody whose work I respected long before I ever thought about becoming a writer myself.
But this isn’t really an article about his resume. It’s about his impact on me.
And the crazy part is, I don’t even know if he realizes he had one.
We Met Through Basketball
Jesse and I met years ago through AAU basketball.
His son, Coletrane Washington, was a really good basketball player at Quaker Valley. He eventually made the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette Fab 5 and went on to play college basketball at Drexel.
Coletrane played for an AAU program I was connected to, and that’s how Jesse and I initially crossed paths.
At first, he was simply one of the dads around the gym. But the more I got to know him, the more I realized there was a lot more to Jesse Washington.
I started seeing him on ESPN. I started reading some of his work. I learned more about his background and education.
And I started realizing: This dude is really sharp.
Not fake intelligent. Not somebody trying to prove to everybody that he’s the smartest person in the room.
He could just talk. Sports. Culture. Politics. Race. Life.
You could have a real conversation with him, and I appreciated that because I’ve always enjoyed talking to people who can make you think.
Jesse had that ability.
Then I Found Out He Could Hoop
This might sound funny, but this actually made me respect him even more.
Jesse could play.
We used to hoop together, and I’m telling you right now: Jesse Washington might have been the best 50-year-old basketball player I had ever seen. He had game.
And coming from me, that’s saying something.
I’ve been around basketball my entire life. I played at a high level. I know when somebody can play. Jesse could play.
So now I’m looking at this dude like, Hold up. You’re highly educated, you’re writing at the highest levels, you’re on ESPN AND you can hoop?
That made our connection even easier because basketball was a language we both understood.
But our conversations eventually became about much more than basketball.
I Was Trying to Figure Out What Came Next
This is the part Jesse probably never knew.
During that period of my life, I was still trying to figure out who Drew Schifino was supposed to be after basketball.
That’s difficult to explain unless you’ve lived it.
For so much of my life, my identity was connected to basketball. I was Drew Schifino the basketball player. Then I coached. But eventually I started wondering what else was out there for me.
What was my next thing? I didn’t have the answer. And writing definitely wasn’t the answer I had in my head.
I always thought being a writer was cool. I respected people who could tell stories and communicate ideas through words.
But me? A writer? Man, please.
It never crossed my mind.
Going to Jesse’s House Changed My Perspective
There were times I would go over Jesse’s house and we would just chop it up. And looking back now, those conversations mattered more than I understood at the time.
He would tell me stories about growing up. Some of them had me dying laughing.
Then he could turn around and tell me serious stories about things he experienced working for major publications and navigating the journalism business.
I listened. I asked questions. I absorbed things.
Here was somebody who had built a life through words, ideas, curiosity and storytelling.
One of the things that really impressed me was when Jesse worked with the late legendary Georgetown coach John Thompson on his autobiography.
John Thompson wasn’t just a basketball coach. He was an important figure in sports and Black culture.
So I’m sitting there thinking: Jesse helped tell THAT man’s story?
That was big to me. I respected it.
And without knowing it, I was being exposed to another world.
Then Something Funny Happened
Years later, I wrote a book.
Me. The guy who never once thought writing was his lane.
I released my first published book, Buckets & Battles, and Jesse was one of the first people I wanted to tell.
I was proud.
And part of the reason I wanted him to know was because I knew what writing meant to him. I knew this was his world.
He was happy for me.
Although deep down, Jesse probably was thinking: “Ain’t no way Drew Schifino wrote a damn book.”
But I did.
And looking back, I don’t think the years of conversations with Jesse were completely disconnected from that.
Energy Transfers
That’s something I’ve learned as I’ve gotten older.
Energy transfers.
Sometimes somebody pours something into you without sitting you down and saying, “I’m going to mentor you. Sometimes there isn’t some dramatic life-changing conversation. You simply spend enough time around somebody who is intelligent, positive, accomplished and principled, and pieces of how they see the world start sticking with you.
That’s what happened with Jesse.
We talked sports. We talked culture. We talked politics. We talked family. We talked life.
And somewhere along the way, his energy moved me.
I didn’t become Jesse Washington. I became more of Drew Schifino.
But maybe seeing what Jesse did helped me understand that there were other ways for me to use everything I had experienced.
I had stories too. I had opinions. I knew sports. I knew Western Pennsylvania. I knew basketball. I knew people. I had lived through some things.
Maybe I could write about them.
What I Respect Most
For everything Jesse has accomplished professionally, that’s actually not what I respect most about him.
I watched him as a father.
That’s where I saw something familiar. Jesse reminded me of my own dad in that way. I could see firsthand how badly he wanted his children to succeed.
Not just athletically. In life.
He and his wife raised talented, intelligent kids, and you could see that family mattered to him.
That’s always going to mean more to me than a job title. Because resumes tell you what somebody accomplished. Family tells you a lot about who somebody is.
I saw a man with integrity. A man with principles. A positive man. An intelligent man. A family man.
And somebody who always had encouraging words for me, even when he didn’t have to.
Give People Their Flowers
I’ve been doing a lot of reflecting lately on the people I’ve encountered throughout my life.
Some people affect you loudly. Others do it quietly.
Jesse was one of those people whose influence I didn’t fully recognize until years later.
Today, I’m a published author.
I’m writing stories regularly. I’m building DrewSchifino.com around sports, culture, history, people and experiences. And sometimes I think back to those days sitting around Jesse’s house talking about everything under the sun.
Back then, I couldn’t see myself doing this.
Maybe Jesse could. Maybe he couldn’t either.
But that’s why I believe in giving people their flowers while they’re still here to receive them.
Jesse Washington, these are yours.
Not just because you’re a great writer. Not because you’ve been on ESPN. Not because you’ve written important books or worked at major publications.
But because you’re a good man.
And because all those conversations we had when I was trying to figure out what life looked like after basketball planted something in me that I didn’t even realize was growing.
Years later, I finally understand it.
Sometimes people show you what’s possible without ever telling you what to do.
And Jesse, whether you knew it or not, you did that for me.