The phone call came on an ordinary day in June 2025, with Jeff LaRavia behind the wheel and his youngest son, Seth, riding shotgun. As they made their way home, Jeff's phone rang with news that would transform a family dream into reality. He answered on speaker, knowing his middle son Jake had updates to share about his NBA future. Without preamble, the message landed like a perfect swish: "I signed with the Lakers."
The words hung in the air of the moving car, carrying decades of family history with them. Jeff knew the Los Angeles Lakers were among the teams courting his son, but hearing it confirmed unleashed a torrent of emotion he hadn't fully anticipated. "I started to get emotional," Jeff recalled days later, and those feelings traced back to a childhood spent in the shadow of Hollywood, where purple and gold weren't just colors—they were a way of life.
Growing up in Pasadena as the son of a Southern California pastor, Jeff's earliest memories were painted in Lakers hues. His father, Ellis, introduced his three boys—Glen, Dave, and Jeff—to the magic of NBA basketball at the iconic Forum. Those games weren't mere entertainment; they were family rituals that forged lasting bonds. Ellis would even demonstrate his free-throw technique, shooting "granny style" just as Lakers legend Wilt Chamberlain once did, proving that unconventional methods could still deliver results. The Forum became their cathedral, and the Lakers their religion.
The LaRavia home became a shrine to basketball devotion. Jeff saved up for the legendary Converse Weapon high tops, those leather behemoths that required a full year to break in properly. He marched around the house in his purple-and-gold treasures, embodying the Lakers spirit with every step. Behind their Pasadena house, perched nearly 1,000 feet above the San Gabriel Valley, Ellis installed a basketball hoop that would become the center of the brothers' universe. That simple rim would teach lessons that extended far beyond the sport itself.
That court taught harsh lessons about precision and accountability. A missed pass didn't just result in a turnover—it meant a five-minute trek down a steep hill to retrieve the escaped ball. More often than not, the errant passes came from Dave, the eldest brother who fancied himself the family's Magic Johnson, attempting no-look dishes and flashy assists that sometimes sailed over the fence. "He was the point guard of the family," Jeff remembers with a laugh. "If you weren't ready, you'd get a ball in the gut." Sometimes Jeff himself launched balls over the fence, inspired by the showtime flair he'd absorbed at Magic Johnson's basketball camp. The hill became a metaphor for the cost of ambition—a price the brothers willingly paid.
The circle completes itself in ways that feel almost scripted by basketball gods. Jake LaRavia, the quiet kid who fell in love with basketball during elementary school recess, now dons the same uniform his father worshipped from the Forum stands. He'll share the court with LeBron James and Luka Dončić, names that echo through basketball history just as Magic and Wilt did in Jeff's youth. The torch passes not just from one generation of players to another, but from father to son, from memory to reality.
Jake's journey to this moment followed a path less traveled than many lottery picks. After starring at Lawrence Central High School, he elevated Indiana State's program before transferring to Wake Forest for his final collegiate season. The Memphis Grizzlies recognized his versatile skill set, selecting him 19th overall in the 2022 NBA Draft. Two seasons in Memphis, including the opportunity to play alongside dynamic point guard Ja Morant, provided invaluable experience and growth. But Los Angeles always beckoned as something more than a destination—it represented destiny encoded in his DNA.
The emotional weight of Jake's signing extends beyond father and son. Jeff's parents, Ellis and Gwen, who nurtured those early Lakers dreams and installed that fateful backyard hoop, passed away before witnessing their grandson's ascension. Dave, the brother whose Magic impersonations taught Jeff about basketball artistry and whose ambitious passes sent them down the hill countless times, is also gone. They would have savored this moment, watching the youngest generation of LaRavias fulfill a legacy they helped create with every granny-style free throw and over-the-fence pass.
People constantly ask Jeff what it's like watching Jake achieve these milestones. They asked when he became Indiana State's best player. They asked when Wake Forest came calling. They asked on draft night in 2022, and when he first checked into an NBA game for Memphis. They ask about playing with Ja Morant, about the grind of professional basketball. The questions come from a good place, but they miss the deeper truth. They weren't there when elementary-aged Jake spent hours perfecting his shot on the driveway hoop, quietly building the foundation of his future. They didn't witness the quiet confidence that told anyone paying attention that the NBA wasn't just a goal—it was an inevitability he pursued with monk-like focus.
The Lakers signing differs fundamentally from previous achievements. This isn't just personal success; it's familial homecoming. Every time Jake steps onto the court at Crypto.com Arena, he'll walk where Wilt dominated, where Magic orchestrated, where Kobe created masterpieces. The purple and gold threads connect generations, weaving together a grandfather's granny-style free throws, a father's cherished Converse Weapons, an uncle's ambitious passes, and a grandson's realized dream. The geography alone tells the story: from a Pasadena hilltop to the NBA's most storied franchise, the distance is measured not in miles but in years of devotion.
For Jeff, the emotions will likely never fully subside. Each game will be a reminder of Ellis installing that backyard hoop, of Dave's impossible passes, of his own childhood worship of Showtime Lakers. The view from nearly 1,000 feet above the San Gabriel Valley taught the LaRavia boys that basketball requires precision, vision, and the courage to attempt the spectacular pass even when failure means a long walk down a steep hill. Those lessons, learned through sweat and sibling rivalry, now find their ultimate expression in the NBA's brightest spotlight.
Now Jake brings those lessons to the stage his father could only dream of occupying. The kid who believed in his NBA destiny before he could drive will now play for the franchise that defined his father's sporting soul. In Los Angeles, purple and gold blood runs deep. For the LaRavia family, it runs across generations, connecting past dreams to present reality in one perfect, emotional arc. When Jake checks into his first game as a Laker, Jeff will likely think about that phone call in the car, about the Forum seats of his youth, about his father's granny-style free throws, and about his brother's over-the-fence passes. And he'll know that some dreams don't just come true—they come home.