'She's His Toughest Critic‘: The Basketball-Driven Mother-and-Son Bond That Fuels LSU's Cameron Thomas
BLOOMINGTON, Ind. — Leslie Thomas politely asks for forgiveness. Her voice is hoarse and scratchy. She’s been screaming and yelling for two straight hours from inside her Baton Rouge apartment.
She normally attends her son’s basketball games, but she didn’t make the haul here because of COVID-19. So instead, she barked at the television as her 19-year-old kid, Cameron, dropped 27 points in the first round of the NCAA tournament on Saturday to help No. 8 seed LSU beat No. 9 seed St. Bonaventure, 76–61, at historic (and mostly empty) Assembly Hall.
The Tigers and their sensational freshman are onto the next round, which includes a Monday meeting with No. 1 seed and Big Ten champion Michigan, a squad some feel is as vulnerable as any top-line seed (the Wolverines are without injured starter Isaiah Livers).
While the Wolverines (21–4) are missing one of their stars, the Tigers (19–9) have theirs humming quite nicely. If you haven’t heard of Cam Thomas, that’s O.K. He’s only a former five-star recruit, projected NBA first-round pick this summer and the country’s current freshman scoring leader. Cam doesn’t really care if you know about him or not, Leslie says. In basketball circles, some often say that he slides “under the radar,” and that makes Cam furrow his eyebrows.
“Under the radar?” he asks his mom aloud.
There is no more being under the radar. Not here in basketball country playing in the Big Dance and meeting a No. 1 seed with a trip to the Sweet 16 on the line. The nation got a taste of Cam Thomas on Saturday in a blowout of the Bonnies. He rebounded from a 1-for-8 start from the field to make five of his next seven shots, had four rebounds and three assists and sank 11 of 13 free throws.
It seems like a fine line, if your mother isn’t Leslie Thomas, an Army veteran, perfectionist and someone who by most measures would be considered Cam’s own personal basketball coach.
Cam has learned the game through YouTube clips of NBA players and his mother’s instruction. Mom acknowledges that her relationship with son is unusual and unique. They have a bond that no words on any page can aptly describe. They are best friends. They are the closest of confidants. And yes, they are teacher and pupil, even still to this day.
Cam calls mom after each game. That includes Saturday, when Leslie opened the post-game call by asking her son to guess what he did wrong in the latest outing.
“I know, I know,” he told her, “I missed those two free throws.”
“Yes, you missed those two free throws!” she fired back.
Leslie is one tough lady. She can normally be heard from the stands barking loudly toward her son, at times even yelling instruction, her voice rising high above all others. Steve Smith, Cam’s high school coach at Oak Hill Academy, has not forgotten.
“She’s going to tell him what she thinks,” says Smith. “I can hear her in the stands at our games making coaching remarks. ‘Shorten your shot! Get to the basket!’
“I thought he’d played well some nights, but she didn’t agree with me. She’s his toughest critic.”
Leslie grew up on the Virginia coast and spent four years in the Army, a year of which was in Korea as an administrative specialist. She left the Army to have her first child, daughter Shaniece Collins, and then 10 years later, while living in Japan, had Cam.
Cam took to basketball at age 5 while watching his sister, then 15, shoot hoops at a nearby recreation center. The family erected a goal in the driveway and Leslie, herself a former high school basketball player, began teaching son how to shoot—first mid-range jumpers, then three-pointers and so on.
Within a year, he could make dozens of free throws in a row. In fact, as a 7-year-old, he won a contest by hitting 33 of them consecutively. He was invited to an AAU team and was routinely playing against and beating 9 and 10-year-olds.
He fell in love with Kobe Bryant and he urged his mother to transform his bedroom into Kobe World: Kobe sheets, blankets, rugs. The whole room was Kobe. Leslie even painted the walls Lakers purple and gold. (In fact, during Saturday’s game, Cam strutted around in bright green kicks: the Nike Kobe 6 Protro Grinches, says mom.)
The rec center, in walking distance from their home, became mom and son’s practice place. They went so often that regulars at the South Norfolk Community Center reserved a goal just for them. They were there once a day and twice a day in the summers.
While others hired private coaches or instructors to cultivate their son’s basketball skills, Leslie refused. “That’s my job,” she says.
She created a 10-in-a-row rule for her son. If he didn’t do anything perfectly 10 times in the rec center, he couldn’t try it in a game.
Leslie got used to being the only parent in the rec center, surrounded by neighborhood kids who would look inquisitively toward her. What’s that older woman doing here?
“It was our bonding time. Cam doesn’t talk a lot. But when we get shots up, he’s engaged, laughing and talking,” Leslie says. “A lot of young men don’t talk to their mothers. It’s mothers. Why would they? We do. We got that bond.”
They still do. She moved with him to Baton Rouge and rented an apartment. They don’t live together, but Cam is at her place 90% of the time, she says. She cooks for him, washes clothes and sits with Cam while he pores over YouTube videos of Bryant and James Harden. He’s always trying to perfect his game by learning new moves.
Aside from watching her son’s games or buying groceries, Leslie doesn’t get out much. She says she’s protecting her son. Cam can’t get sick in the middle of a basketball season, after all. Without Cam in Baton Rouge the last two weeks, she’s felt lost and alone. She’s yet to explore the city and in the next month, she hopes to move back to her home in Virginia.
“It’s just me and Cam,” she says. “I don’t really know anybody. I came down here to support my son.”
Soon, she’ll likely be doing it at the next level: the NBA. He’s 6’ 4” with range and scoring ability across the court. For 38 years, Smith has been coach at Oak Hill Academy, a prep basketball powerhouse in western Virginia, and he’s never seen a player score like Cam.
Stepback threes with a hand in his face, 30-footers with two guys draped on him, mid-range jumpers, backwards layups, near halfcourt heaves.
“I’ve seen things in practice I’ve never seen before,” Smith says. “He’s got deep, deep range and he’s strong when he gets to the basket.”
Boo Williams, his AAU coach, recently told The Virginian-Pilot that Cam is the best scorer since he’s coached Allen Iverson.
After Saturday’s outing, he’s averaging 22.8 points per game, fourth-most in Division I and tops for a college rookie. He entered the game with the nation lead for free-throw points at 176, and he led the SEC in scoring, free-throw percentage and made field goals this season. At one point, he made 42 straight free throws.
It all goes back to a special someone. Not dad. Not coach. Not brother or best friend. But mom.
“Excuse my voice,” a breathless Leslie chuckles. “I’ve been screaming in here!”