Ericka Rambert has done her best to shield her son from the spotlight and keep his grounded. (Paul J. Bereswill)
Sebastian Telfair’s Idol was Stephon Marbury. Lance Stephenson looked up to Telfair.
Isaiah Whitehead, the heir to the throne at PSAL powerhouse Lincoln and roundly considered the top rising freshman in New York City, has a different kind of mentor.
His mother Ericka Rambert.
From his role model to his humble and selfless personality, Whitehead is different from the usual star athlete, and the three NBA players who preceded him at the Coney Island powerhouse, which has won seven PSAL championships in the last nine years.
Quiet and low-key, the sculpted 6-foot-3, 180-pound guard is a versatile playmaker rather than a selfish scorer. Getting him to talk about his accomplishments is a feat in itself. Unlike the Stepensons and the Telfairs, Whiteheads support system — his mother, Ericka Rambert, an MTA bus dispatcher; and her brother, Warren, a construction worker — have done their best to shield him from the spotlight. They have turned down interview requests and photo shoots, keeping his exposure to the media at a minimum.
“Children need to be children,” Ericka Rambert said. “We have to live for our children, not through our children. A lot of people want things for themselves. A lot of parents want to say their son is in the paper. But it’s for their benefit. This is all for Isaiah’s benefit.”
Whitehead gives away his trophies and medals to kids half his age. His mom has stopped trying to find out how many points he scores in a particular game because she has usually has to pry it out of him. Whitehead starts and ends the conversation by telling her if his team has won or lost.
Rickey Rivers, who runs Funsport Jr. Pros, an elite middle-school tournament in Brooklyn, said he has never seen Whitehead lose his cool on the court, nor boast of his many accomplishments.
“That’s just the type of person I am,” Whitehead said.
When AAU teams seek his services, he asks to bring along one of his friends. When he is offered free sneakers or shirts, he only accepts if those around him receive the same gifts. He plays video games in his free time, reads basketball books, and handles his schoolwork without being prodded.
Whitehead doesn’t have a curfew, only because he hardly leaves his apartment in the Surfside Houses after dark. The only time he departs the immediate area is for a game. Ericka has banned him from having a girlfriend in high school, too.
“I don’t want him to grow up that fast,” she said. “He’s still a baby.”
Once he walks through the doors at Lincoln in September, Ericka will be powerless. The basketball-crazed community will know Isaiah’s name, vividly remember his face, and expect greatness. The only way he can top Stephenson is by winning four city titles like him, claiming more than two state titles, and surpassing 2,946 career points, the most in New York State basketball history, feats that may never be topped by any player.
“For someone entering high school, he’s a very talented player,” talent evaluator Tom Konchalski said. “But lets not burden him with the legacy of being Lance or Sebastian or Stephon. Let him just be a kid.”
Whitehead has proven to be the best for his age locally. MidAtlantichoops.com ranked him No. 1 in the northeast in the Class of 2014, and he was ranked 14th nationally by TheHoopScooponline.
Whitehead recently led the Juice All Stars to fifth place in the AAU Nationals in Kissimmee, Fla., and a second-place finish in the King James Shooting Stars Classic in Akron, Ohio.
The 15-year-old Coney Island native has excelled given the opportunity against tougher opponents. He has played up a level with Juice and put up big numbers. Last week, he made his debut in the West 4th Street high-school league and scored 20 points to lead Lincoln past rival South Shore.
After a slow start in which he was stripped of the ball once and blocked another time, he regrouped. Whitehead routinely beat his man off the dribble, gliding past him like he was flicking on a switch, ala Stephenson. He finished strong inside against bigger defenders, again ala Stephenson, and picked up assists on accurate feeds, creating easy shots for his teammates, ala Telfair.
“I expect him to carry on the tradition of what Lincoln has been doing the last few years,” a Division I assistant coach said, speaking on condition of anonymity. “I like his tenacity and New York toughness.”
Konchalski, the talent evaluator, said at this age, Whitehead lacks the profound talent of Stephenson or Telfair. He doesn’t have the raw ability and advanced physique of Stephenson and isn’t as polished as Telfair, both of whom played against older levels of competition than Whitehead at this stage. The assistant coach, however, said Whitehead is quicker than Stephenson was and boasts a more versatile skill set.
Whitehead’s unselfishness endeared him to Lincoln coach Dwayne Morton, who taught him as a seventh grader at P.S. 288 in Coney Island. Often, the longtime coach said, talented young players will look to prove themselves by piling up points. In a recent team camp at Hofstra, Morton fondly recalled Whitehead setting up teammates for easy shots he could’ve finished himself.
“It showed, maybe, he was on a different level as an eighth-grader,” Morton said.
In time, Whitehead will prove if he is worth the hype, if he is indeed the fourth in this Coney Island hierarchy. He understands the comparisons and is pleased to be associated with the likes of Marbury, Telfair and Stephenson. But Whitehead doesn’t want to be remembered as any of them.
“All I want,” he said, “is to be Isaiah Whitehead.”