LUBBOCK, Texas — When the Jordan brand logo started to peel off his high tops, 11-year-old JT Toppin felt mortified.
So did his mom, Naomi Toppin.
Newly single and tasked with raising four children on her own, Naomi said she was “broke and looking for every deal I could find” shortly after the family moved to Dallas in 2016. Friends told her about a local discount store where she could buy basketball shoes and clothes considerably cheaper for JT, younger brothers Jullian and Kawleyl and little sister Learyq. But then the logos started to crack and fade.
She laughs about it now, and knows it’s a stark contrast to her eldest child’s current reality. JT Toppin is the reigning Big 12 player of the year and an All-America candidate for No. 11 Texas Tech, which plays Tuesday at No. 14 Illinois. Toppin, 20, has developed a preference for high-end designers, and he can afford the good stuff. His $4 million payday — a combination of name, image and likeness and revenue share funds — is believed to be the highest among college basketball returners.
It’s not uncommon for the 6-foot-9, 230-pound forward to roll into Texas Tech team events swagged out in designer duds: jean shorts bedazzled with rhinestones, super soft blue suede Louis Vuitton sneakers, a polished, patterned Goyard bag with Chevroches calfskin trim.
“I like to wear stuff other people don’t wear, I like to stand out a little bit,” Toppin said. “It gives me an extra boost of confidence.”
That he can find luxury items to fit his size 15 feet is especially satisfying, so of course he’s going to rock crystal-embellished Amiri kicks or sleek Bottega Veneta Orbit sneakers — even if he’s just pairing them with Tech sweats.
“You can tell he has an eye for something cool,” said Grant McCasland, Texas Tech’s coach. “But my favorite part about JT is all that doesn’t impact the way he cares for people or the way he competes.
“His love for fashion, it’s an accessory to who he is — it’s not all that he’s about.”
From the start, putting up National Player of the Year numbers.
He opened the season with 31 points, 14 rebounds, and 4 assists. pic.twitter.com/E4J73qZFZK
— Texas Tech Basketball (@TexasTechMBB) November 10, 2025
Known for his relentless motor and soft touch around the rim, Toppin is an elite scorer in the paint. Should he lead Tech to the Final Four, something he came achingly close to last season, it will undoubtedly boost his draft stock. But while he’s superior offensively at this level, there are concerns about how his skill set will transfer to the pros: He doesn’t have a consistent outside shot (he made 12 of 38 attempts from 3 last season) and hits only 67.6 percent of his free throws, including crucial misses in Texas Tech’s 84-79 loss to Florida in the 2025 Elite Eight.
Last spring, Toppin flirted with going pro, entering his name into the 2025 NBA Draft. He returned to school after reaching an eye-popping deal with The Matador Club, Tech’s NIL collective funded by oil tycoon alums that has transformed Red Raiders athletics.
Toppin is likely making more in college this year than he would have if he’d made an NBA roster. In the past, borderline NBA players often reluctantly landed in Europe at the conclusion of their college careers. NIL and rev share entice those fringe prospects to stay in college, further developing and bolstering their draft profiles. Toppin is currently projected as a second-round pick in the 2026 draft.
He knows the criticisms of his game. He also knows if he addresses those, what he has now is merely a taste of what could be, and this season is about proving — to himself and everyone else — that it’s only the beginning.
Growing up, his mom worked “every job imaginable” to provide for their family: social work case manager, Uber driver, water tech, DJ. When money was really tight she’d donate plasma. She jokes that she’ll “wear a Walmart bag until it’s falling apart.”
For Christmas last year, JT bought her Prada slides and a matching Prada purse. She’s still struggling to use it, because it feels so extravagant. JT saw the way Naomi sacrificed and struggled, even if she tried to hide it. Taking care of her now, he said, is a privilege.
With his earnings the past two years — he said he made $1.2 million when he transferred to Tech in the spring of 2024 — he bought his mom a seven-bedroom house in Dallas, sent his family on a cruise to the Bahamas and purchased a car for brother Jullian, a junior at Grambling State. He surprises them with little everyday things, too. From Lubbock, five hours west of Dallas, he’ll DoorDash his family dinner or Dubai chocolate, just because.
“If I get to the league, I could be in a better position, I could help my family even more,” Toppin said. “This is not the end goal for me. Even if I’m making a lot of money now, I’ve still got a dream to chase.”
At their apartment in Lubbock, it is not uncommon for Jazz Henderson, Toppin’s best friend and teammate, who has known him since middle school, to turn to the All-American and tell him, “You used to be trash.”
Toppin doesn’t dispute this. An awkward, gangly teen — his wingspan stretches longer than 7 feet — he didn’t even play varsity until his junior year at Faith Family Academy in Dallas. He fumbled easy passes, missed layups and was a non-factor outside the paint. McCasland, now in his third year with the Red Raiders, was at nearby North Texas at the time, unsure of what type of college player Toppin could be. He didn’t pursue Toppin, the No. 133 player in the 2023 class according to 247Sports, though Toppin helped Faith Family to consecutive state titles and Toppin was named Class 4A player of the year in 2023.
“Hell nah, I wouldn’t have recruited me either,” Toppin deadpanned. “I was trash. Like, for real.”
Lightly recruited overall, Toppin wound up at New Mexico, sold on The Pit’s raucous atmosphere. A surprise starter for the Lobos, he averaged 12.7 points and 9.6 rebounds, leading freshmen nationally in field goal percentage (.623) to earn Mountain West freshman of the year honors and lead the Lobos to the NCAA Tournament. After their first-round loss to Clemson, he entered the transfer portal.
“New Mexico was a good starting point,” he said, “but I wanted a bigger stage against better talent. … I felt like I had to prove that I could play at this (Power 4) level, that I wasn’t good just cause I was at a mid-major.”
The Big 12, consistently considered one of the top conferences, was a natural landing spot. Going back home to Texas was a bonus. And while he says money was not a motivating factor, he knew a significant uptick in NIL funds was likely, after collecting $38,000 at New Mexico.
It didn’t take Toppin long to convince McCasland he more than belonged. Last November, Texas Tech had just lost to Saint Joseph’s, 78-77, after a last-second Red Raiders shot rimmed out. It was Tech’s fifth game and first loss. Toppin had been brilliant, scoring 22 and grabbing a career-high 18 boards for his third straight double-double. He didn’t care.
He slammed open the locker room door, kicked his locker, threw his shoes off in disgust. He paced around the room, jaw clenched, anger and sweat dripping off him.
“I’m telling you, there is no one I’ve coached who was that mad after a loss — and he’d played great,” McCasland said. “Right then I was like, if he’s this talented and this competitive, this angry when we lose and he plays good, oh, we are going to be great.”
Meet JT Toppin.
Tough. Relentless. Dog. #DefineYourself | @j1izzle pic.twitter.com/qEqmvCadxq
— Texas Tech Basketball (@TexasTechMBB) August 20, 2024
McCasland had heard “this dude, he’s crazy” when it came to Toppin’s competitiveness, but that didn’t jibe with who McCasland knew. The first time they talked over a video call, when Toppin was in the portal, McCasland had been dumbstruck to turn on his phone and find Toppin lounging on his bed.
“Who does a Zoom lying down?!” McCasland cried, still perplexed.
Toppin is, by his own admission, “really chill” — so much so that to get amped before tipoff, he does a hit of smelling salts in the huddle. In some ways, he’s a constant contradiction. If it’s possible to be subdued while dunking, he can be.
His explosion last year as the Big 12’s best player was quiet, too. A solid starter for Tech through its first 20 games, his 41-point, 15-rebound performance in the double-overtime win versus Arizona State on Feb. 12 was a turning point. He averaged 22.4 points and 10.4 rebounds the rest of the season; prior to that game he’d been at 15.2 and 8.6, respectively.
“Toward the end of the year,” McCasland said, “he just took over.”
McCasland always knew Toppin had “a great nose for the ball” but was impressed when he got to watch him rebound up close. Toppin goes to the glass with a manic energy, clawing for boards.
“He literally attacks rebounds. He has such strong hands, you can tell when he grabs the ball. But then he has the softest handshakes, the softest skin,” McCasland said, shaking his head. “It’s bizarre.” (Teammates love to tease Toppin about the fact that he gets regular manicures.)
Naomi said JT has been relaxed from Day 1. He’s so soft-spoken, she’ll often ask him to repeat himself.
“When I watch him on the court, my mind is blown,” she said. “It’s like an alter ego.”
JT thought hard about staying in the 2025 draft but made the decision to return to Tech after long conversations with Naomi.
“The NBA is not going anywhere,” she told him. “You have not reached your prime in college yet. Let’s not rush the process.”
She knows that even after collecting an armful of individual honors and significant paychecks, JT is motivated to show he belongs — and that even more is ahead.
At Texas Tech practice in early October, the Red Raiders were prepping for a secret scrimmage against Oklahoma, with assistant Jeff Linder leading the scout. Every time Linder pointed out the Sooners doing something in the paint, he’d call out to Toppin, “You paying attention JT? You ready to stop this?” Toppin would simply nod.
But don’t mistake his silence, teammates and coaches say, for apathy. Don’t be fooled into thinking quiet means not competitive.
It’s only in the past few years, when he grew into his body and better understood how to use it, that Toppin truly fell in love with basketball. Before, it was just something he did. When he realized the joy that comes from dominating an opponent, he went all in, determined to become not just a good hooper, but a standout one.
“Knowing you scored a lot and nobody could stop you, that’s a different feeling,” he said, “especially when you’re helping your team win, too. Like, I’m trying to make coaches get on people the next day for how bad their defense was on me.
“I’m trying,” he said, “to expose people.”