When Austin Rivers got an autograph at Walmart
TORRANCE, Calif. -- It's chilly on a Monday night in December, and two dozen youths from the Olive Crest organization stream into the 38-by-18 foot Walmart break room chanting "AUS-TIN RI-VERS."
At least half later admit to not recognizing the 24-year-old Clippers guard on the way in.
Austin Rivers is all smiles, though. He's been a part of charity events before, but this is the first run by his aptly named Austin Rivers Foundation. The evening's benefactor slowly circulates, making sure to spend time with each kid in attendance, not unlike a skilled matre d' overlooking a bustling front of house.
How's the pizza? (You gotta go with the red pepper flakes.)
Who's your favorite rapper? (Yeah, I think Eminem would be up there as one of the best.)
Olive Crest supports abused and neglected children and at-risk youth. And on this day, some of these kids -- the ones with blue name tags -- are a part of Olive Crest's foster program, children who are unable to live with their biological parents.
"I wanted to give back," Rivers says. "Like most athletes or people like to do, is just give back. I just didn't know what I wanted to do. I've been planning it for years. I really wanted to give back to the youth -- especially abused or underprivileged kids. Just hearing their stories breaks your heart. So that's who I wanted to give back to. And I was just like, 'Alright, we've got to stop prolonging this. Let's do it right now for Christmas.'"
In the break room, Rivers has won over the kids, although an official scorekeeper might give an assist to the now empty boxes of pizza and two-liter bottles of soda.
A sharpie has found its way into the kids' hands and they are imploring Rivers to autograph their shirts -- crisp, white Austin Rivers Foundation T-shirts with the number 25 printed on the back, Rivers' number with the Clippers and his father, Doc Rivers' number once upon a time.
The elder Rivers is not present, but two of Austin's siblings are a part of his collection of cohorts. Several kids are slyly (not that slyly) trying to determine if Austin's brother, Jeremiah, is also a professional basketball player. Meanwhile, a trio of teenage girls -- Ashley, Nancy and Yulissa -- are interrogating sister Callie for key intel: Is Austin single? He's not.
"Can I sign your shirt?" a dissenting inquiry swims upstream amid the flood of autograph requests.
"What? I already signed your shirt," Rivers says as he scans the immediate vicinity for an empty space to park his signature.
"No, can I sign your shirt?" The question comes again, more sternly, as if the words themselves were off put for having to be restated.
"Oh! Yeah, of course," Rivers says. A waist-high girl with long, brown hair, a matching "RIVERS DELIVERS HOLIDAY CHEER" shirt over a grey hoodie and rolled up skinny jeans inches forward. She takes possession of the sharpie and carefully marks "Jasmin A." on his right shoulder. She has a blue tag.
Jasmin, age 11, is the only one to sign Austin's shirt. She would be the only one to ask to sign Wes Johnson's shirt as well, a late and unexpected arrival to the event.
"I become famous because I signed their shirt," Jasmin would later say. Does that mean the Clippers become famous for signing her shirt? "No. They're already famous," she replies. Jasmin pauses for a moment, then confesses.
"I didn't even know who they were actually until now. Well, I knew who they were sort of, but I didn't know who was who."
With the kids devouring their fill of pepperoni pizza and soda, it's time to hit the floor to shop. But the trek from break room to storefront isn't the most straightforward.
Lined up single file and bookended by adults, the kids follow Austin's coordinator for the event, Lang Maddox, through a door to the left. The band of merry kids make a brief appearance in the employee locker room and take a quick right into a narrow corridor.
The sense of anticipation is growing within the Olive Crest kids. A cinder block wall lines the right, caged off water pipes reside to the left and 20-feet high are a maze of wires and air ducts. Marching on for 50-or-so feet, they pass smiling employees and every step adds to the excitement. They're practically giddy as the queue turns right through the double doors. Is it a fantasy land on the other side? Maybe a mystical castle?
It's a Walmart, of course. As frenetic as the 25 kids are, their enthusiasm isn't enough to generate an Einstein-Rosen bridge.
Each youth collects a $100 gift card and launches into the store. It's like the excitement in the neat, single-file line achieved a critical mass and converted to kinetic energy, propelling everyone into the aisles of the Torrance Walmart. Maybe they can bend the rules of physics.
"What. The. Hell. Is. Happening," one customer thinks aloud, but that is quickly exchanged for a different thought as the two Clippers navigate the aisles with the kids: Get a selfie with the players.
Olive Crest chaperones scramble but almost instantly Rivers' group of friends and family, the photographers, the media, really everyone is implicitly deputized to help watch the children.
Austin and Wes are gracious with the Walmart patrons but careful to keep an eye on the spend-happy kids around them.
Jasmin is staying close by her younger sister Josie, age 9. And Josie is on the prowl for the toy section.
It's not a hard-and-fast rule, but the consensus among the adults seems to be that kids under 10 made an immediate dash for the toys. Boys over 10 attacked electronics and sports equipment, and girls over 10 sought out clothes and makeup, leaving them in a conundrum, the two standing at the precipice of diverging childhood desires. In the push and pull, Jasmin lucks out, stumbling upon the electronics department. She picks up a copy of Call of Duty: World at War (Platinum Hits for Xbox 360). Josie has collected a Nextbook Ares 8 tablet. Somehow, Wes and his pregnant wife Melissa have been conscripted as valets for the sisters and are now trailing the pair, items in tow.
Which comes at an ideal time because Josie has sniffed out the toy section.
Jasmin is having a more difficult time. After some consideration, the Johnsons are left to watch over Josie's toy euphoria while Jasmin and her chaperone, Carissa, seek out items more suitable for ages 10 and up.
"It's confusing when you have $100 to spend," Jasmin says, surveying the store at the intersection of home goods and auto repair. "When you don't (have the money), it's 'I want this, I want that.'"
Overwhelmed with the options in front of her, she picks a direction and starts walking.
"Where are the batteries?" Jasmin says. Batteries?
"We need batteries at home."
Walmart has everything, but it's impossible to find anything.
Jasmin's quest for batteries is short lived and the journey has wound up back at electronics, where she is eyeing the selection of digital SLR cameras. A media photographer has let Jasmin play with his camera on and off throughout the night, but the selection here are just beyond her grasp (starting at $399.99, the Canon Black EOS Rebel T6 was the least expensive).
She settles on a pair of Monster earbuds and calls over an employee to open the locked case. Red ones? No, Jasmin picks the black headphones. Maddox the coordinator said that everyone should hang on to all their things and the group would pay together at the end of the night, but because this item was behind a security case, Jasmin has to pay immediately.
"Can I do that?" she turns to the chaperone and asks. The chaperone shrugs.
"Let's see."
They're ringing up the headphones and Jasmin is overeager in testing out her gift card, swiping it through the card reader before the purchase is rung up. But the card is not taking.
She hands the card over to the employee and there's a brief moment of trepidation, but the cashier plugs a number into the register and the transaction is complete. The headphones are hers.
Wes is holding onto Jasmin's video game, graciously taking photos with surprised customers while his wife, Melissa, has added an Orbeez Kaleidoscope and Koss headphones for Josie.
As Jasmin and Josie regroup, Wes flags down an employee. Josie has had no trouble putting her valets to work.
"Excuse me, could you tell me where the roller skates are?" Wes inquires.
"Roller skates? Sorry, we don't carry those in store," the stocker responds. "Only online ... You play basketball, right?"
Wes kindly acknowledges and takes yet another selfie, but the exchange does enlighten the group: Walmart, in fact, does not have everything. At least not in store.
The evening is winding down and the kids have been corralled, shopping cart after shopping cart are queued to cement each purchase. The older girls have carts full of clothes, seeing which tops and bottoms match. The boys have footballs and tablets and basketballs (of course). And the younger children have the entire spectrum of toys.
There are even rumors that Austin has picked up the tab on more expensive items for those lucky enough to have been around him during the shopping spree, but it's supposed to stay under wraps. It's not confirmation, but Austin is discreetly going up and down the carts and upgrading smaller items for better versions and hovering by the register to make sure everyone gets what they want.
Jasmin has just thought of one more thing: Cheetos. She quickly bounds over to the chips aisle, and if the plethora of items in Walmart was intimidating, its selection of Cheetos is no different. There are no fewer than 12 varieties and Jasmin scrutinizes each before settling on a bag of Cheetos Flamin' Hot Limon. She'll grab a second before the final tally of her cart.
And while other kids have garbage bags to accommodate their shopping spree, Jasmin's goods fit in a standard plastic bag. Her final balance? $70.83.
"I can still spend $29.17?" she marvels after collecting her receipt. The Olive Crest coordinator confirms the remainder, but Jasmin will have to wait until next time. And that's the gist of Austin's goal for the night: give the kids something to look forward to.
"[This event] was my first thing that I was actually in charge of and it was incredible," Austin says. "Like, the whole night I was sitting there in awe. It's amazing. People always talk about 'Oh, it's so nice that you give back.' It just kind of becomes words. When you see it, when you actually put it together and you see the amount of impact you have on a kid, they're going to remember this for the rest of their life."
Back in the break room, the kids of Olive Crest all definitely can tell Austin Rivers from Wes Johnson now, and both parties exchange thanks for the evening. There are more photos to commemorate the inaugural Austin Rivers Foundation charity event. And in the flurry of goodbyes and departures, there's a girl diligently writing "Jasmin A." on Jeremiah Rivers' right shoulder.
