Mobley once almost quit basketball. He was in sixth grade, and having consistently played up two grade levels, growing up in Murrieta, California, he was tired of being beaten on by the older, stronger boys. He was an easy target: tall but lanky. Skinny. Young. To make matters worse, Isaiah, 20 months his senior, was racking up all the accolades. Evan was just an afterthought. “Dad, I don’t want to play basketball anymore,” Evan said. “Hold on,” Eric said. “Pump your brakes. You’re just not on your right team [for your age group]. You are really, really good, and you just don’t even know it. So, let’s try first to put you in your own age group and go from there.” Evan reluctantly agreed, but soon realized his father was right. He dominated on his new team, scoring 30 points in his first game. Soon, he fell in love with the game. He began even asking his dad to take him to the court at 5 a.m. each day to practice.
