In the summer of 2007, Jimmy Butler got out of a car at a Chevron station north of Houston for nothing more than the promise of a chance. He had a high school degree, solid grades and test scores, and no plan for college other than what he told his driver, Alan Branch: “Whoever will take me. Wherever I get a chance.”
Branch, who ran a Texas high school scouting service, pulled out of the Chevron. He believed in Butler for reasons that were hard to explain, which may be why all the college coaches he lobbied said no. They wanted players with defined positions and skills that would obviously translate, and what Branch saw, besides “efficiency and IQ,” was a kid who was “majestic.”
“He always kind of stood with as tall a posture as possible,” Branch says. “He always looked you right straight in the eye and talked to you.”
Butler’s childhood would become part of his legend: After his parents kicked him out of his house in his early teens for general incorrigibility, he bounced around until another family took him in. The natural conclusion is that desperation fueled him, but what stands out, looking back, is that he didn’t seem desperate at all. “He just never let on to be worried,” Branch says. But Butler didn’t seem to think about anything other than what was next: a box-out, a meal, a workout, a ride up to Tyler Junior College with Branch.
Branch’s son, Alan Jr., had already signed to play with Tyler, and coach Mike Marquis told Branch Sr. he could bring Butler in for some pickup games and Marquis would evaluate him.
Marquis had never even watched video of Butler playing. But early on, he watched Butler run up and down the floor a few times without even touching the ball, and then he turned to Branch and said, “I’ll take him.”
