Little Kid Has Become Crescenta Valley Big Shot

Some kids don’t leave home without their teddy bear or blankie.

For Jimmy Goffredo, clutching a basketball was his pacifier.

He felt like a prince on a throne, a magician with a magic wand. He never wanted to relinquish something that gave him so much pride and joy.

The Crescenta Valley High gymnasium became his sandbox and Falcon players were his heroes.

Goffredo was destined to become a Falcon. His father, John, coached 19 years at Crescenta Valley.

Jimmy was always around. He was in the locker room listening to halftime tirades. He was at practices overhearing players getting chewed out. He was on the bench eavesdropping on strategy.

“I blink and it seems like yesterday he was the ball boy,” John said.

Falcon players treated him like a little brother.

If only they could see him now.

He’s a 15-year-old freshman guard averaging 14.7 points per game. To put things in perspective, two of the greatest players in Crescenta Valley history, Brad Holland averaged 12.1 points and Greg Goorjian averaged and 13.5 points in their first varsity seasons.

“It’s almost not fair to call him a freshman,” Coach Jim Smiley said. “His maturity, his work ethic, his understanding of the game--all of that does not match a ninth-grader.”

Those who followed the Falcons through the 1990s and even the late ‘80s will remember Jimmy as the boy who never got bored with basketball. He stuck with it and kept getting all A’s on his report cards while devoting countless hours to practicing the game.

He arrived at Crescenta Valley this season, was given a uniform and hasn’t come out of the starting lineup since.

“It’s not weird--it’s great,” he said. “It’s what I’ve been dreaming about for 15 years.”

His basketball skills are still developing. He’s 5 feet 11 with a shooter’s mentality. He has made 57 three-pointers and doesn’t fret about missed shots. He’s strong for a freshman but can be out-muscled by seniors. His judgment is just what you’d expect from a coach’s son--sound. But what really catches everyone’s attention is his fearlessness.

Last December in a tournament game against Downey, an elbow to his mouth in the third quarter knocked out his two front teeth. His lip was gashed and there was more blood splattered than any scene from “Scream 3.”

Then came the fourth quarter and Goffredo asked to go back in.

“I was so mad at that point I didn’t feel the pain,” he said.

Smiley remembers the determination in Goffredo’s eyes.

“For a ninth-grader to get hit hard enough to have his teeth knocked to the ground and then to reenter the game is unbelievable,” Smiley said. “When I asked if he could go back in, he said, ‘Coach, I don’t know how good my shot is going to be, but I know I can play defense for you.’ I had goose bumps.”

Goffredo’s father sits in the bleachers during games watching more as a coach than a parent. He critiques his son’s performances, and for good reason: He gave up coaching three years ago to become Jimmy’s personal trainer.

“I don’t charge anything,” John said. “Instead of coaching everybody’s kids, I started coaching my own.”

When Jimmy became a seventh-grader, John would meet with him after school at a local middle school gym for workouts.

“It’s a workout, it’s not a father-son hangout,” John said. “I had a practice plan.”

The workouts continue today several times a week. Jimmy even arrives at school an hour early for an individual practice session at 7 a.m.

“It’s hard sometimes,” Jimmy said. “He gets mad at me a lot, but it only makes me that much better. It’s great. I want to do it. It’s my decision.”

There’s no denying the special bond that exists between father and son.

Those who remember the difficult days of 1993 for the Goffredo family understand. Kathy Goffredo, John’s wife of 20 years, died of ovarian cancer, leaving behind Kristen, who was 15 at the time, Kimberly, 12, and Jimmy, 9.

“It just pulled us together,” Jimmy said. “With some families, when [a death] happens, you fall apart. It showed how strong a family we already were and we became closer.”

Not that Jimmy would want his father to be coaching him at Crescenta Valley.

“It might be World War III,” he said.

The current setup fits perfectly--father as teacher, son as pupil.

And John has no regrets of leaving the sideline to spend more time with his son.

“What father could retire with part of his job and spend it with his son?” John said. “That’s time I’ll never get back.”

As for all the former Crescenta Valley players who used to mess with Jimmy and beat him in games of one-on-one, he has a challenge.

“I’d take a rematch against any of them,” he said.

Eric Sondheimer’s local column appears Wednesday and Sunday. He can be reached at (818) 772-3422 or eric.sondheimer@latimes.com.