‘BABY MOSES’ : San Diego Prep Star Is Big Enough to Make Winner of Any College Team

The other day, in her squeakiest voice, Terri Mann whined: “I’m hungry.” And Lee Trepanier--who coaches her, teaches her, employs her, bosses her, lends her money, screens her phone calls and so on--went and fetched some candy bars.

They had met four years earlier, when one of Trepanier’s players introduced them after a game.

“Coach T! I want you to meet Terri Mann.”

“Hello, son.”

“Coach T! She ain’t no dude!”

Trepanier might not have caught that right off, but he did recognize immediately that Terri Mann could play basketball. So he latched onto her and has yet to let go--three girls’ state high school basketball championships later.

Mann is a 6-foot 2-inch, 175-pound senior at Point Loma High School. USC Coach Linda Sharp calls her the best girls’ prep player in the nation this season, and that means that Mann’s life will be getting complicated soon.

Her mother, Willie Mann, wants her to stay close to home and attend San Diego State. Mrs. Mann, who is separated from her husband, is on welfare and cannot afford a phone. She has 11 family members living in her two-bedroom apartment. Terri and her basketball are the family’s solace. Her mother wants to be able to see every game.

But Coach T--as Trepanier asks to be called--would prefer that Mann not attend San Diego State. It’s not that he dislikes the Aztecs. He simply says that USC or Western Kentucky would be better for her and would help her more after graduation.

In the recent past, Trepanier has given Mrs. Mann food and clothes and has helped her find an apartment. He has helped Terri buy a car and has bought the Mann family Christmas presents. “If (Terri) goes to San Diego State, I might have to cut her mother off,” he said.

Mrs. Mann replies that the family got along before Trepanier appeared on the scene.

“We’ll get by,” she says. “We’ll get by.”

For now, the threat is not an issue. It won’t be until after Point Loma has won its fourth straight state title, which it expects to do, and Mann chooses a college. Mrs. Mann still kisses Trepanier goodby after every game.

“He’s a good man,” she said. “Sometimes I say, ‘I wish he was my husband.’ ”

As for Mann, she is noncommittal. She has told friends that she is leaning toward USC, but she declines comment when reporters ask about her college, other than to say that she would like to play in the 1988 Olympics.

And whether USC has an inside track may depend on whether Mann has forgotten a bad experience with Cheryl Miller two years ago. Mann had asked Miller--the former USC star--for her autograph. Miller said no. Whether or not it was an isolated incident, it made an impression. Mann called Miller a snob.

“I’ll never be like that,” she told Trepanier.

On the court, Terri Mann could be better than Cheryl Miller, because she’s much bigger. She weighs 175 pounds and bulks up to 180 on most weekends.

“I stay home some Saturdays, and all I do is eat,” she said.

Her nickname--and she wears it proudly on her warm-up jacket--is Baby Moses. As in Malone. She plays as he does, using her seat, banging, rebounding, getting to the free-throw line, swishing the foul shots.

“Yeah, but you know what she does better than Moses?” Trepanier asks. “She steals the ball.”

Mann has learned more than defense. She has averaged about 34 points, 24 rebounds, 6 assists and 8 steals this season. And that’s with faulty eyesight. She owns a pair of contact lenses but doesn’t wear them.

“Her vision is good enough to play basketball,” Trepanier said. “She doesn’t shoot anything more than six feet away from the basket anyway. And I don’t want her to.”

Point Loma is 113-1 since she has been there.

Point Loma at Patrick Henry High, Jan. 16.

Three boys have come across town to see her play.

“She’ll be doing a Dominique!” says one. “She’ll be taking off from the free-throw line, and boooosh!”

The game begins, and Mann blocks a shot from behind.

She posts up, scores and walks nonchalantly to defend against the inbounds pass.

She doesn’t run on the fast break.

She fouls.

“The ref just doesn’t want you to play!” Trepanier is saying from the bench. “He won’t let you play!”

She grabs a rebound with one hand, cupping the ball between her wrist and forearm.

She steals the ball. It’s easy. Every player on the other team dribbles with her head down.

Mann dribbles with her head up.

Some of Point Loma’s varsity boys show up for their game later that night and Mann starts dribbling behind her back. She sinks a fade-away jump shot.

The varsity guys laugh.

She runs, her thumbs pointed skyward, on the balls of her feet, so her sneakers squeak.

The ref calls her for another foul.

“That’s weak,” she says.

Trepanier takes her out.

The score is 65-15 with 6:25 left in the game, but he puts her back in to play guard. The idea is to improve her defense and ballhandling.

She’s leading the break. Trepanier screams: “Give it up! Give it up! C’mon, Terri.”

She says: “Don’t ‘C’mon Terri’ me.”

She finishes with 46 points and 31 rebounds.

Point Loma wins, 77-24.

Point Loma at Madison, Jan. 20 .

The girl she is guarding beats her down the court three straight times. Trepanier is screaming.

“That’s your girl! That’s your girl!”

He takes her out.

At halftime, he lectures the team.

“You guys don’t want to play defense!”

Two players talk back.

He says: “When you guys start telling me how to play the game, that’s when I leave. I’ve forgotten more than most of you will ever know about the game. You do what I tell you to do! I know what’s gotta be done! I know when you’re hustling and when you’re not hustling. Terri wasn’t hustling!”

Mrs. Mann, who is sitting in the stands, finds out that Terri has 23 points at the half.

“Think how many she’s going to have when it’s over,” Mrs. Mann says.

In the second half, Mann blocks a shot with her palm and it carries 30 feet downcourt.

The varsity boys laugh.

By now, Trepanier’s girls are ahead by 37 points, but he keeps the starters in. Mann finishes with 47 points and 29 rebounds as Point Loma wins, 78-41.

Terri doesn’t mean to yawn but . . .

“It gets boring when we play little teams,” she says. “I get 50 (points), and I don’t realize I’m scoring that much because I don’t think I’m shooting that much. People say I’m a ball hog, but what should I do? Throw it away when I’m in the lane, or get a three-second call?

“I’d rather play against guys. I don’t like to play against girls, because they get hit in the nose and start crying and say, ‘Take me out.’ I can play with pain. I have ankle sprains, and both my thumbs are swollen. I keep jamming fingers.”

She’s the queen of tape. In a game against San Diego Serra, she held up the opening tip because she was wrapping two of her fingers together. Her entire right hand was wrapped by game’s end.

This made it difficult to grip the ball, but Trepanier screamed: “Shoot with your left hand!”

Trepanier used to coach the boys at Point Loma, but he quit six years ago, saying: “The boys are a little bit more on an ego (trip). The girls are real receptive and more coachable.”

He’s something of a high school Bob Knight. If you’re not in his league and you want to play him, you have to go to his gym. He presses the entire game, and he refuses to play zone. If his players don’t sag on defense when the players they’re guarding against doesn’t have the ball, he takes them out. He runs a double, low-post offense, geared to get the ball to Mann.

About 60% of his practices are devoted to defense.

He says that not one of his players’ parents has ever complained about the yelling. But he also says: “I have to take time not to lose sight that they are girls. And I want them to remain feminine. They don’t need to lose their femininity.”

Also, he has been nice enough to buy them state championship rings.

Naturally, operating the way he does, he has plenty of enemies--home and away. He has said that Mann could start for the Point Loma boys’ varsity, which many of the boys say is possible. But one player, Arlando Hill, doesn’t appreciate Trepanier’s coaching methods.

“They’re winning by 80 points and he’s sitting there, hollering and cussing at them,” Hill said.

“He thinks he’s Bobby Knight, but we’ll see what kind of Bobby Knight he is next year with no Terri Mann. We’ll see. . . . No Terri, no dynasty.”

Imagine how opponents feel. Point Loma was host of an eight-team tournament this season, and the six teams that were eliminated cheered wildly for Point Loma’s opponent--Mount Carmel--in the final. When Mann fell and hurt herself, the crowd cheered.

“He’s beat up and chewed up so many opponents, he’ll get his,” Mount Carmel Coach Peggy Brose said recently. “If other coaches get a chance to bury him, they will.

“Anybody could win with the talent he has. With that talent, Mickey Mouse could’ve coached them to the state. I don’t agree with how he keeps Terri in all game, but what can I say? My team’s never been to the state final. Maybe I’m doing something wrong.”

Trepanier’s relationship with Terri goes back four years. When he met her, she was finishing eighth grade. Months later, Mrs. Mann said, Trepanier came over to their home to sit down and talk basketball. Terri didn’t live in the Point Loma area at the time and was supposed to attend Hoover High School. But Mrs. Mann--after meeting the coach--said she gave Terri the opportunity to choose between Hoover and Point Loma.

Yet, according to San Diego Section rules, Terri could not attend Point Loma unless she lived in the Point Loma area or joined Point Loma’s Junior Reserve Officers’ Training Corps program. So she joined the Junior Naval ROTC program, but hated it. She didn’t like getting wet and said they didn’t have the shoes or pants to fit her.

According to Mrs. Mann, Terri wanted to quit, but that meant she wouldn’t be able to play for Trepanier. She said that Trepanier solved the problem by helping them find a one-bedroom apartment in the Point Loma area. Eventually, though, Mrs. Mann lost her job and the $525 rent became prohibitive. They moved into a federally subsidized housing area in Southeast San Diego, out of the Point Loma area.

But Terri, who had just finished her junior year, still was eligible to attend Point Loma under the Voluntary Ethnic Enrollment Program, designed to improve the racial balance of schools. Terri had moved to a predominantly black area of Southeast San Diego but could request busing to Point Loma, a school attended mostly by whites. Four of Trepanier’s five starters are bused from that area.

Trepanier gave the family a portable stereo for Christmas and has hired Mann to sell food at boys’ basketball games. He also pays her $3 an hour to clean his office.

Mann had a subcompact car, but the transmission failed. She called Trepanier, who helped her look for a newer one. She turned in the old car for $500, and she and her older sister Lynn put their money together but still came up $300 short on a used mid-sized car. Trepanier lent them the money, which he said has been repaid.

“Sometimes (the Manns) try to take advantage of me,” Trepanier said. “There are times I have to say no. I don’t like it, but I have to. (Mrs. Mann) might overextend. She might say, ‘Hey, pay my phone bill.’ I say, ‘No.’ I won’t pay anybody’s phone bill or anybody’s utilities or anybody’s rent. If they need food, I’ll help them.”

In the home, where 11 people live, there are four sets of bunk beds. Terri and Mrs. Mann sleep on the floor because they have bad backs.

Mann has decorated one wall with the letters she has received from interested colleges. She has pasted every letter up there, a collage of colleges.

“We need another wall,” Mrs. Mann said.

Mrs. Mann and Terri are close. Her mother won’t let Terri lift a hand in the house, won’t let her cook or clean.

“Terri’s spoiled,” Lynn said with a giggle. “She done been spoiled since the day she was born.”

Terri says of her mother: “We stay up together and watch TV late at night. Like ‘Friday Night Videos.’ Of course, on Saturdays I never stay home. We have parties to go to.”

Terri playing full-court with the boys at a local gym . . .

She’s at the top of the key.

“Four to two!” she says, announcing the score.

She shoots.

“Five to two!” she says as the ball is in mid-air.

Swish.

Later, she rebounds and dribbles the length of the court for a layup. A teammate says: “I hate a ball hog.”

Later, she misses a sweeping layup and screams an obscenity.

The game ends, her team winning, and she sees a boy from her school. He’s looking at his biology textbook and she says: “You’re crazy. You can’t study in a gym!”

Mann learned how to play basketball on the streets of Detroit. Her father, Cyrus Sr., is 7-feet tall. Her oldest brother, Cyrus Jr., also a 7-footer, played at Illinois State and was drafted by the Boston Celtics. Another brother, Allen, played at Murray State in Kentucky.

Six years ago, Mrs. Mann and Cyrus Sr. separated, and Mrs. Mann took Terri and left Detroit for San Diego.

Terri remembers playing against her brother Cyrus in Detroit.

“He’d swat my shot, and I’d go home crying,” she says.

Once Mann arrived in San Diego, her next-door neighbor, a kid named Michael Walker, who is now averaging 24 points a game at Hoover High, taught her how to be Baby Moses.

“I’d be crashing into her,” Walker said. “I’d elbow her and give her shots in the side. She’d come over to my house and tell my mom I was cheating.

“We had this nine-foot hoop near our houses, and she’d be dunking. Boom! She’d get on the fast break and look like (Charles) Barkley. Remember how I used to elbow her? Now, she does that to other girls. She’s coming on. She told me the other day she’s leaning to going to USC, and that’d be good.”

But she might not be eligible right away at USC or anywhere else. Her grade-point average is 3.2, but her scores on the Scholastic Aptitude Test have not reached the 680 that she needs to be eligible as a college freshman.

Trepanier, a math teacher, monitors her academic work and says he will sue the NCAA if she doesn’t meet the SAT requirements.

“That’s a culturally biased examination,” he said. “I told her, ‘Don’t you worry about it, sweetheart. I’m taking them to court.’ ”

Point Loma vs. San Diego Serra, Jan. 27.

Terri needs a piece of gum right before tip-off.

She says: “Anybody in the stands got any gum?” She gets some.

Later, she misses two free throws.

“What’s the matter, girl?” Mrs. Mann says. “Y’all playing so bad. You giving me a headache.”

It’s 47-16, Point Loma, at halftime.

An opposing player misses a shot, and Mann runs down the long rebound. Trepanier turns to the official scorer and says: “Didn’t you give her a rebound for that?”

The scorer nods.

An opposing player sinks a 20-footer over Mann.

“She faced me,” Mann says giggling during a timeout.

The opposing team has 29 points and it wants to break the ever-impressive 30-point barrier. With 10 seconds left, Serra does it and the players go crazy.

“That’s weak,” Mann says.

She scores 47 points and has 24 rebounds.

Point Loma wins, 74-31.