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Chauncey Billups fooled me, too, it appears. Why his shocking arrest cuts so deep
Jason Quick
PORTLAND, Ore. — As Chauncey Billups was being escorted out of the federal magistrate courtroom in Portland on Thursday, he locked eyes with his wife, Piper. The image haunts me.
She was sitting on a long wooden bench, wedged into the last seat at the end, positioning her before the door that would eventually lead her husband out of the courtroom. I was seated behind her, one seat to her right. One of their daughters, Cydney, was three seats to my right.
After a judge granted Billups his temporary release following two indictments of money laundering and wire fraud, he stood and walked 10 feet to the door, passing in front of Piper in the process.
In his eyes, there was nothing. He was hollow, emotionless, void. She was stoic, lips pursed, head high, just as emotionless.
The scene chilled me, and I’ve been trying to process why.
I supposed an element of my reaction was the realization that this was suddenly a family that is broken and rocked. Cydney happened to be in Portland because the Minnesota Timberwolves, for whom she works as manager of team and player services, had played Wednesday night against Billups and the Trail Blazers. While the Timberwolves flew to Los Angeles that night, Cydney stayed in Portland with her family. So she was there when the FBI arrived at Billups’ home at 5 a.m. to arrest her father.
As awful as these charges are — their husband and father is accused of being a cheat, a scam artist and connected to the mafia — it was hard to ignore the reality of a family thrust into turmoil.
But there was another element to Billups’ empty stare: It was in such stark contrast to the man I had been around the past four-plus years.
I’m not going to profess to be close to Billups, or even say I know him well. But I’ve had hundreds of professional conversations with him, and a handful of personal exchanges. He was this force of positivity, wrapped in a smile, who paraded around with unrivaled confidence and swag. For as much losing as he endured, and as much criticism rained down upon him from fans, he was always upbeat. Always. I never once saw him down.
He tried to impart that positive outlook on the people around him, particularly his players. After the 2023-24 season, Billups could tell Anfernee Simons was feeling overwhelmed as he left the Blazers for the summer. Simons, who was 25 years old at the time, was a new father. On top of that responsibility and stress, he was frustrated with the Blazers’ losing and his role moving forward. Simons said Billups called him throughout the summer. The two had long talks about basketball, fatherhood and life. Simons said he always knew his coach’s care level went beyond basketball.
When you are around teams — and coaches — throughout a season, you can see some ugly sides to people. This is a tense and volatile arena, and these are some proud and egotistical people. But of all the coaches I’ve dealt with in my 28 years around the Blazers, nobody was more pleasant. He was never short or snappy. Not once has he been condescending. And he always went above and beyond when it came to insightful answers or observations.
But it wasn’t just that he was accessible and pleasant. His messaging was admirable. He spoke of accountability, teamwork and caring about things beyond yourself. I believed in him. I trusted him. I respected him.
And if the allegations are proven, I was wrong.
And that makes me feel stupid. Angry. And sad.
Now, imagine how those in and around the Blazers who really know him must feel. It has to be an overwhelming blend of betrayal, shock and confusion.
www.nytimes.com
Jason Quick
PORTLAND, Ore. — As Chauncey Billups was being escorted out of the federal magistrate courtroom in Portland on Thursday, he locked eyes with his wife, Piper. The image haunts me.
She was sitting on a long wooden bench, wedged into the last seat at the end, positioning her before the door that would eventually lead her husband out of the courtroom. I was seated behind her, one seat to her right. One of their daughters, Cydney, was three seats to my right.
After a judge granted Billups his temporary release following two indictments of money laundering and wire fraud, he stood and walked 10 feet to the door, passing in front of Piper in the process.
In his eyes, there was nothing. He was hollow, emotionless, void. She was stoic, lips pursed, head high, just as emotionless.
The scene chilled me, and I’ve been trying to process why.
I supposed an element of my reaction was the realization that this was suddenly a family that is broken and rocked. Cydney happened to be in Portland because the Minnesota Timberwolves, for whom she works as manager of team and player services, had played Wednesday night against Billups and the Trail Blazers. While the Timberwolves flew to Los Angeles that night, Cydney stayed in Portland with her family. So she was there when the FBI arrived at Billups’ home at 5 a.m. to arrest her father.
As awful as these charges are — their husband and father is accused of being a cheat, a scam artist and connected to the mafia — it was hard to ignore the reality of a family thrust into turmoil.
But there was another element to Billups’ empty stare: It was in such stark contrast to the man I had been around the past four-plus years.
I’m not going to profess to be close to Billups, or even say I know him well. But I’ve had hundreds of professional conversations with him, and a handful of personal exchanges. He was this force of positivity, wrapped in a smile, who paraded around with unrivaled confidence and swag. For as much losing as he endured, and as much criticism rained down upon him from fans, he was always upbeat. Always. I never once saw him down.
He tried to impart that positive outlook on the people around him, particularly his players. After the 2023-24 season, Billups could tell Anfernee Simons was feeling overwhelmed as he left the Blazers for the summer. Simons, who was 25 years old at the time, was a new father. On top of that responsibility and stress, he was frustrated with the Blazers’ losing and his role moving forward. Simons said Billups called him throughout the summer. The two had long talks about basketball, fatherhood and life. Simons said he always knew his coach’s care level went beyond basketball.
When you are around teams — and coaches — throughout a season, you can see some ugly sides to people. This is a tense and volatile arena, and these are some proud and egotistical people. But of all the coaches I’ve dealt with in my 28 years around the Blazers, nobody was more pleasant. He was never short or snappy. Not once has he been condescending. And he always went above and beyond when it came to insightful answers or observations.
But it wasn’t just that he was accessible and pleasant. His messaging was admirable. He spoke of accountability, teamwork and caring about things beyond yourself. I believed in him. I trusted him. I respected him.
And if the allegations are proven, I was wrong.
And that makes me feel stupid. Angry. And sad.
Now, imagine how those in and around the Blazers who really know him must feel. It has to be an overwhelming blend of betrayal, shock and confusion.
Chauncey Billups fooled me, too, it appears. Why his shocking arrest cuts so deep
The somber image of Chauncey Billups at his hearing is in stark contrast to who he appeared to be during his time as coach in Portland.