FORT WASHINGTON, Md. -- In Chris Court there are no mean streets.
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Jarrett Jack (middle, with friend's hand on his head), celebrates a childhood birthday with friends while his neighbor, Brandon Diggs (fourth from right), talks to another boy at the party.
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There can't be, not when every road name ends in "court" or "terrace." Local teenagers even attend the appropriately named Friendly High School.
As an unfamiliar car drives around Chris Court, the homeowners stop shoveling their drives and cast the driver a glare as cold as the temperature.
"Who are you?" the looks imply. "We don't want any trouble here. This is our neighborhood and we look out for each other."
An old African proverb says it takes a village to raise a child. The folks on this street raised a star athlete, Georgia Tech point guard Jarrett Jack.
They did so quietly and with little pretense, in a grassy field and on a homemade court. With challenges and good-natured ribbing.
"The horror stories so prevalent with so many athletes, that's not the case with Jarrett," said Damien Diggs, who grew up next door to Jack. "Being raised here, he wasn't going to fall through the cracks. He didn't need to be rescued."
Good neighbors
The Chris Courters traveled deep into the city last weekend to see their 21-year-old friend play inside the MCI Center in downtown D.C.
Jack led Georgia Tech to the Atlantic Coast Conference Tournament title game, and his childhood friends and neighbors cheered each basket, assist and steal from courtside seats.
But, unlike the 20,000 others in attendance, the Chris Courters didn't "ooh and ahh" with Jack's every behind-the-head pass or elusive drive to the hoop.
They'd seen it before.
"He'll bounce an inbounds pass off a defender's back and shoot a lay-up," said Brandon Diggs, who led the Jack cheering section. "He did that to me 10 years ago."
Yet, it's what Brandon and his brother Damien did to Jack that the point guard best remembers.
He credits his two neighbors as the most influential people in his life, right up there with his mother and father.
The Diggs brothers are Jack's "godbrothers." Their father is Jack's godfather while Jack's father, Carlton, plays the same role in the Diggs' lives.
But the Diggs and Jack couldn't be closer if they were related.
Since the day Jack was old enough to go out and play on his own, the Diggs brothers have been family.
"We always treated each other like we were brothers anyway," Jack said. "Like we were blood brothers."
And just like true kin, Damien and Brandon influenced Jack differently.
Seven years older than Jack, Damien plays the big brother role ñ a mentor and guide. He's the one Jack seeks for advice.
Brandon, meanwhile, is four years Jack's elder and his lifelong playmate.
He's a self-proclaimed jokester whose fun-loving personality rubbed off on Jack. Brandon's influence is why Jack makes friends wherever he goes.
Jack's cell phone includes more than 400 saved phone numbers.
"Those two, they are who I get my character from," Jack said. "I'm a pretty focused person, but I also joke around a lot. I always get people laughing."
Nurturing friends
Laughter filled Chris Court while Jack and the Diggs brothers grew up. It emanated from the open field next to the Diggs' home where the neighborhood children gathered.
They played football and baseball and dodge ball. They'd roll a wheeled basketball rim into the street for a game of hoops.
Jack and his younger brother Justin were the youngest kids in the neighborhood by several years. Too little to play with the others, Jarrett watched them anyway.
His father eventually built him a 5-foot basket for the yard ñ just a rim, no backboard. He learned to shoot on that basket and eventually challenged one of those older neighborhood kids.
He took on Brandon.
Jack beat his neighbor despite Brandon's size and strength advantage.
"You could knock him around out there and he'd throw it up and it would go in," Brandon said. "I never beat him, not on the little court.
"And I cheated a lot."
Jack grew plenty as well, enough for the neighborhood kids to invite him into their games. He even tagged along when they left Chris Court for pick-up games at local gyms.
Louise Jack never worried about her son being gone ñ she's always trusted Jarrett and Justin with the Diggses ñ but grew weary of trying to corral them for dinner.
So she talked her husband into building a lighted court next to the house.
"That was a big day," Brandon said. "When they poured the concrete, the kids just stood around and kept asking ëIs the concrete dry yet? Is the concrete dry yet?' That's how into it we were."
It became a court on Chris Court.
They held late-night games that bled into the morning hours until the Diggs' dad hollered, "All right now" from the sideline ñ his bedroom window.
"He had to work the next morning and was trying to sleep," Brandon said. "\u2009ëAll right now' ended a lot of games."
Still, the elder Diggs and Jacks endured the late-night basketball contests and the muffled laughter following missed shots.
"At least we knew where they were," Louise Jack said. "That was much easier than having to go out and look for them."
Blossoming talent
By the mid-1990s, Jack was becoming a basketball prodigy. He played year-round, attending camps in the summer and playing on traveling teams.
His basketball became like an appendage and he used it in nearly every task.
He dribbled while hanging out in the street talking to Brandon and Damien. He did finger dexterity drills in bed at night and then slept with the ball in his arms.
The Diggses often played rough with Jack. Damien admits he's an aggressive, maybe even overly aggressive, player and Brandon said he often used physical maturity to his advantage.
Once Jack started shaving his head, the Diggses decided his noggin was shaped like a bullet.
So, they re-named him "Bullethead."
And then they beat on him so much they made Bullethead wish he were wearing a bulletproof suit.
"But we never let him quit," Brandon said. "He'd get mad and want to go inside, and we wouldn't let him. We'd tell him, ëStop crying. Get up.' We'd always challenge him.
"Pretty soon he quit getting mad and started getting even."
During his sophomore year in high school, Jack's skills earned him a scholarship to Mount Zion Christian Academy in Durham, N.C., a school that attracts the nation's top young players.
The following summer, during a pick-up game with the neighbors, Jack posted up 22-year-old Damien, hooked him with his arm and scored.
Five years later, in summer 2003, Jack returned home from his freshman year at Georgia Tech for a visit. This time, he teamed up with his brother Justin to play the Diggses.
By games end, Damien had a knot on his head ñ courtesy of Jarrett's elbow ñ and Brandon was scarred from being dunked on repeatedly by his neighbor.
"I used to get a couple of body shots if I got out of line. I'd take some and keep moving," said Jack, now 6-foot-3 and 200 pounds ñ taller and stronger than his neighborhood friends. "When I got of age, they really didn't need to do that anymore. They toughened me up."
Still an influence
Jack's toughness and determination sets him apart on courts around the country these days.
He leads the Yellow Jackets in minutes played, scoring, assists and steals. When his teammates struggle, he picks up his game.
He carried Georgia Tech to the Final Four last season, scoring 29 points in an overtime win against Kansas in the regional final.
He's the main reason why the team could mount a similar run this season. Yet, at times, he wasn't too proud to seek a little Chris Court counsel.
During his freshman year he was starting as point guard and was overmatched by his conference peers. He phoned Damien Diggs' for advice.
"They brought you to Georgia Tech to drive the car," Damien said. "You're in the car, but not driving it right now."
"It got him to be more offensive minded. His mom thanks me often for getting through to him, for getting him to drive the car."
So too does all of Chris Court.
They're the ones looking out for each other, making sure none of their own falls through the cracks.
Even if there are none.
Reach Adam Van Brimmer at (404) 589-8424 or adam.vanbrimmer@morris.com.
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