The Rap on Avondre Jones : ‘Travelin’ With Ravelin’ Wasn’t Happenin’,’ so Former Top Recruit Tries Chaffey College and Music to Get Back to the Big Time

Avondre Jones is bent slightly so his bald pate doesn’t hit the low ceiling of the Eve-Jim Recording Studio in South-Central Los Angeles. Standing in front of a microphone, he bobs and weaves as his engineer lays down a background beat with the cadence of a bouncing basketball.

Jones starts to sway. His eyes are closed, his face flushed. He breaks into a smile.

Then come the words in the mode known as freestyln’, a spontaneous form of hip-hop that is as raw and real as the streets outside.

“I used to be in the Pac-10,” he raps, improvising the lines, “but travelin’ . . . with Ravelin’ . . . wasn’t happenin’.”

The words reflect the multiple worlds of Jones, who is two years removed from Lakewood Artesia High and is struggling to redeem himself as one of the country’s most promising basketball players.

And then there is his music and an upcoming debut album of gangsta rap and hip-hop songs for BHE Records, an independent music company in Los Angeles.

It’s a lot for a 19-year-old to think about.

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Jones, a bony, 6-foot-11 prep All-American, left USC in May after a disappointing freshman season.

Expected to be one of the Trojans’ best recruits in years, Jones was unhappy about his lack of playing time. He believed that then-Coach George Raveling had betrayed him. Adding to the frustration was the accusation of academic fraud, a charge of which he was later cleared.

His circuitous route to basketball redemption took him to Chaffey College, which was expected to be one of the state’s, if not the nation’s, best community college teams. There he would play and learn from George Tarkanian, son of the former Nevada Las Vegas coach.

Best of all, he could play immediately instead of sitting out a year, which would have happened had he transferred to another Division I school.

But one month into the season, the Pirates were engulfed in a community college controversy that left Jones wondering how a once-promising career could get sidetracked so quickly.

Chaffey was accused by coaches of trying to intimidate opponents early in the season. At the Fullerton College tournament last month, Chaffey players were ejected during two games for pulling an opponent’s hair and punching an opponent in the face, resulting in a bench-clearing brawl. During the fight, a Chaffey player took the game clock and threw it on the floor.

That game was suspended and police were called when a Fullerton College trainer alleged that a Chaffey student in the stands was making gestures with a handgun. No gun was found.

Frustrated by the tumult, Jones, who was not playing that game because of an injury, stayed away for three weeks. Some said he quit basketball to be a rap artist.

Jones said he was rehabilitating a severely sprained ankle that was injured during practice when he landed wrong after a rebound. He returned last week.

Jones hopes Chaffey is a temporary stop on his way back to Division I. Although the incidents have bothered him, he says he is focusing on next season when he expects to play at either UNLV, Providence, Iowa or Georgia. Many say Las Vegas is his top choice, where he can play for Tim Grgurich, a Jerry Tarkanian protege.

Jones says he has not decided where he will play, but there are a few signals. One day last month in the Pirate gymnasium, Jones was approached by the man he had once hoped to play for at UNLV.

“This guy could be as good as he wants to be,” Jerry Tarkanian told a reporter, who was interviewing Jones.

Tarkanian turned to Jones, as wide-eyed as a mule deer: “I’m shocked at the things you can do. Shocked!”

Turning away, Tark continued: “He needs to be constantly motivated.”

Jones shook his head as if he has heard this 10 zillion times.

“(The motivation) doesn’t last long because of all the things you’re interested in,” Tarkanian told him. “That was the same thing with (San Antonio Spurs) David Robinson.

“But when you make $5 million a year like David you can be interested in a lot of things.”

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When Jones decided to attend Chaffey, located in the shadow of the San Gabriel Mountains in Rancho Cucamonga, he was concerned some might think he went to a community college because of poor grades.

Jones left USC with a 2.2 grade-point average on a 4.0 scale for 31 units. George Tarkanian says Jones needs 10 units to earn an Associate Arts degree.

Although Jones was in good academic standing at USC, Educational Testing Services, which administers the Scholastic Aptitude Test, accused him of cheating on his entrance exam. An investigation cleared him of wrongdoing.

The challenge came during the second semester when NCAA investigators were tipped that Jones’ test score improved by almost 500 points after taking the SAT at Lynwood High about eight months earlier. Jones’ first test score was about 60 points shy of the mandatory 700 to be eligible to compete in intercollegiate athletics as a freshman.

The NCAA turned over its findings to ETS, then backed off the inquiry.

“It was ridiculous,” said Jones’ mother, Vivian Ruffin. “They had no grounds for doing that. He went through a whole year of college.

“He took the test twice and USC didn’t have a problem with it because it went through (admissions) as normal.”

Big increases in scores often are flagged by testing agencies or colleges. But after reviewing Jones’ high school transcripts and interviewing him, the USC admissions office accepted the increase without question.

Jones is at least the fourth USC recruit who has had an entrance exam challenged in the last two years. But Jones says he did not leave the school because of the test challenge.

He says he thought last season was wasted and he did not develop his basketball skills. He also thought Raveling misled him during recruiting, as he expected to start as a freshman.

“That’s what he told me in my living room, so I don’t know how to take it,” Jones said. “He probably didn’t think I was ready, but I did.”

Raveling told Jones to be patient saying his time would come. But Jones was not sure.

Jones was one of four heralded freshman in Raveling’s 1993 recruiting class. The others were Stais Boseman, Claude Green and Jaha Wilson.

Jones was considered the first dominant center to arrive at USC in Raveling’s eight seasons. He averaged 21.2 points and 11.7 rebounds as a senior, who along with Charles O’Bannon led Artesia to its third State title in four seasons.

Raveling, who retired last month after a serious car accident, said he would probably handle Jones differently if he had another chance.

“The expectations by Vonnie, by me, by everybody were so high maybe it was unrealistic to think he could achieve so much so quickly,” Raveling said.

“I accept a large part of the blame because we hyped those four kids so much. But when you have a program like ours trying desperately to get into the spotlight there is a tendency to oversell. I plead guilty to that.”

Jones, who says he and Raveling had an amicable parting, started one of 23 games for USC. He averaged 3.8 points, 3.1 rebounds and 13 minutes of playing time. He lost his confidence and started missing practices and team meetings. That frustrated coaches.

He was suspended twice, including a National Invitational Tournament game against Fresno State.

“I probably went to (USC) for the wrong reasons,” Jones said.

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Jones’ decision to stay in Southern California was motivated in part by his desire to be near the recording scene and home.

Some coaches think he would be better off playing in a small college town away from the distractions of the recording industry.

“He doesn’t have his heart into it,” said Gary Anderson, coach of defending state champion Long Beach City.

“He looks a little lethargic,” another coach said of his play at Chaffey.

In his first game back from the ankle injury, Jones scored 10 points, had 11 rebounds and eight blocks as Chaffey defeated Golden West College.

“I feel like the world is against me,” he said. “Just negative, negative, negative . . . it is motivating me to prove they are wrong.”

Jones has been criticized for his work in hip-hop, perhaps because some coaches do not connect with the music. It frustrates him that people say he has given up on basketball to become a recording artist.

“No one should put all their marbles on a sport,” Jones said. “You should always have something to fall back on.”

The way his basketball career has gone, it is difficult to blame him.

“The music worked its way when he got frustrated with what was going on at USC,” Ruffin said.

She is impressed with how her son has handled school, basketball and a budding rap career, but has some doubts.

“I think it is a little much for one person as young as he is,” Ruffin said.

Jones says basketball comes first, but, “Maybe because I’m seven feet they think that’s the only thing I’m supposed to do. Just like everybody else I have other interests.

“When you can’t play basketball anymore, you can still roll your wheelchair into that recording booth and rap.”

Jones also has faced resentment within the hip-hop scene. Some do not take him seriously because he looks more like an athlete than an artist.

“He’s just as good a rapper as he is a basketball player,” said Earl Sisson, his manager. “There’s not a 6-11 guy delivering the kind of street lyrics that Avondre does.”

Although his words are profane and sometimes sexist, they do not promote violence.

Jones, known as “Shicty” in the music industry, started rapping with Carlos Bright when they were sophomores at Artesia. They began by making up rhymes at a friend’s house, laughing themselves silly.

They started performing at lunch on campus, entertaining Artesia’s students. Jones, the lanky giant, gained quiet confidence next to the compact Bright.

Often soft-spoken and shy, Jones delivers his lyrics with a powerful voice that is spiked with anger and humor.

Bill Hankins of BHE Records wants him to record clean versions of his songs so they will reach a greater audience. Gangsta rap is a form of popular music that often uses street language to depict the realities of life in poor neighborhoods.

Hankins thinks Jones has crossover potential. He is from the ‘hood, but because of basketball, he can cross ethnic and economic boundaries. Along with the album, “Shicty,” due in early January, will be a video, posters and singles--the whole force of a Hollywood promotion.

Jones is one of perhaps 500 new recording artists in Los Angeles trying to make it big. But it is doubtful the others also are striving to reach the NBA.

Next time, Jones will record with Bright so he will have more time for basketball. The album took more than three months to finish.

When working together, Jones and Bright are known as 3Wayz. Funny name. But it personifies Jones these days, who is divided among basketball, school and rap.

Can he do it all? Jones thinks so.

“I’ve got to get my respect back,” he said. “A lot of people are doubting me.”