It's 7 p.m. and the Jayson Tatum backpack drive is coming to a close. Tatum has left. His family has left. Volunteers are packing up the extra bookbags and folding up tables.
But Nettles is sitting in the stands, talking with his wife.
It's hard not to think that, with a player like Jayson Tatum on his resume, Nettles could be anywhere. Maybe a college coach, a professional trainer, or at the very least, a high school coach. No one would think twice if he left. That's what you're expected to do.
Wohl kids go off to college, some make the NBA, some become boxers, doctors, lawyers, construction workers, barbers, but Nettles sits in the same place he has since 1996.
When asked if he'll be at Wohl forever, he squints as if he's confused by such an outlandish question.
"Yeah yeah yeah yeah," he says. "Guess what though? If I hit the lottery, I ain't going nowhere. Here it is: If the good Lord took me today, I'm not mad at him because I really enjoy life."
Kids start to run on the court. Their legs are dragging, and their arms are flopping. Celtics green-and-white balloons still float above their heads.
After the kids do a few suicides, Nettles appears on the baseline.
"You should have a ball in your hand at all times!" Nettles says, raising his voice. He points at each player. "You should have a damn ball, and you should have a ball! So go get a ball out my rack, dude!"
Jayson Tatum is gone. And that means the Wohl kids –– and Mike Nettles –– are back to basketball.
This story was updated to correct the spelling of Lamont "Pat" Johnson. We regret the error.
