A Miami Heat Rookie Gets Checkmated

Game, it is said, recognizes game. Not long ago, two mutual admirers from different domains—Jaime Jaquez, Jr., a six-feet-seven standout rookie for the N.B.A.’s Miami Heat, and Tanitoluwa Adewumi, a five-foot-six, thirteen-year-old chess prodigy who lives on the Lower East Side—met for a skill exchange of sorts. Adewumi first won fans five years ago, as a third grader, when he conquered his category at New York’s state championships while living in a homeless shelter with his family, who had fled Nigeria as refugees under threat from Boko Haram. More recently, Jaquez, a chess devotee, sent Adewumi, a budding hoops fan, a video message suggesting that they trade tips. When the Heat came to New York, a meeting was arranged.

The setting: the second-floor basketball court at Nike’s headquarters near Madison Square Garden, where some Heat players would be gathering to shoot around. Jaquez came straight from the airport, in off-white sweats and matching sneakers. Adewumi had arrived wearing a black Adidas tracksuit. A Nike rep, noticing the attire, provided a new, appropriately branded one instead. (“Much better,” she said, after he changed.)

They headed for a chessboard, which was set up at mid-court on a high-top table. Play began quickly. “I don’t like trading pieces,” Jaquez said, after doing so. “Especially when someone’s better than me.” Adewumi considered capturing a pawn, then brought a bishop forward instead. He asked how Jaquez liked his teammates. “A lot of cool guys,” Jaquez said. Then: “Oh, my God ”—Adewumi had snagged an unsuspecting rook. A few moves later, Jaquez recognized that his king was in checkmate. He laughed and extended a congratulatory hand. “You did play well at the start,” Adewumi said. He smiled impishly.

Adewumi asked Jaquez about his Elo rating, so Jaquez pulled up his profile on Chess.com, a site that has replicated several basketball stars’ chess games with personalized bots—Gordon Hayward (1350 Elo), Jaylen Brown (1275). Jaquez’s own rating is 900. (Adewumi’s is 2370.) Chess has a cult following among N.B.A. players. Giannis Antetokounmpo and Klay Thompson are practitioners, and Derrick Rose was once spotted at a Drake concert playing chess on his phone. This was actually Adewumi’s second showdown with a flesh-and-blood N.B.A. player. He’d previously taken down Grant Williams, a bookish forward now on the Charlotte Hornets. How did that matchup come about? Adewumi shrugged. “My parents would know,” he said.

The pair reset the board and switched sides. Talk turned to their chess origins. “My brother taught me,” Adewumi said. Jaquez used to play with his siblings, too, but grew serious while at U.C.L.A., where the basketball players became chess-obsessed during COVID. (The school’s football team was even more obsessed; they brought in a chess coach.)

This game, Jaquez deployed a defense whose name he forgot. “Scandinavian,” Adewumi reminded him. He asked Jaquez about the best game of his career. “It’s so hard for me to think and play chess at the same time,” Jaquez said. “When people stream”—broadcast their play live online, while chatting with viewers—“I’m, like, how?” Adewumi said he used to stream, but stopped to focus on tournaments. “I was young,” he said. “Like, twelve.” Adewumi grinned at one of Jaquez’s moves, then allowed him to replay it. Soon he called checkmate anyway. “Well, that was just delaying the inevitable,” Jaquez said.

It was time for hoops. Jaquez demonstrated a few of his favorite moves, and then the pair settled into a game of H-O-R-S-E. Each missed a three-pointer and made a right-handed layup. Adewumi lamentingly compared Jaquez’s high-elbowed shooting form with his own, which originated closer to his chest. “That’s how everyone starts,” Jaquez assured him. A towering man in sweats walked onto the court and surveyed the scene. “That’s my friend Bam,” Jaquez said—as in Bam Adebayo, the Heat’s all-star center. Adebayo dapped up the prodigy: “What’s up, little man?”

Adewumi missed a few longer shots, accumulating H-O-R-S. Jaquez asked his favorite N.B.A. team. The Celtics, Adewumi said. Jaquez grimaced: “I thought we could be friends.” Then he sank a heave from half-court. An onlooker shouted, “That’s game!” Adewumi shook his head. “I’m making this,” he announced. He removed his jacket, revealing a white T-shirt reading “POSITIVE VIBES.” He made a running start, and his attempt thudded off the backboard. “I think we’ll call it even,” Jaquez said.

More Heat players trickled in, and Adewumi and Jaquez exchanged gifts. Adewumi signed a copy of his memoir, “My Name Is Tani . . . and I Believe in Miracles.” (It’s been optioned by Trevor Noah and Paramount.) Jaquez signed a cream-colored pair of sneakers, which were roughly as big as Adewumi’s torso. “What size are those?” Adewumi asked. “My size,” Jaquez said. He offered some autograph advice (“Keep it quick”) and made a parting request. “When you become a grand master,” he said, “let me know.” ♦