Mark Giannotto

USA TODAY NETWORK – Tennessee

LEPANTO, Ark. — Drive past the "Welcome to Lepanto" sign, beyond the shuttered storefronts of the main drag and through the stop sign that separates white from black in this small Delta town of less than 2,000 people. Pull into the graveled driveway and Malik Monk's grandfather will often be there in the front seat of a dented green pick-up truck held together by duct tape, talking to anyone who passes by while watching the latest crop of basketball players go at it in the park affectionately known as “The Woodz."

“This is Malik Monk country,” Sam Young says, taking a long drag from his cigarette.

Soon, the stories start to flow. About how the basketball court used to be the neighborhood swimming pool during the days of segregation. About how the park is filled with townspeople and the smell of fried fish once church lets out on Sundays, when the rules on the court are “no blood, no foul” and “we party til the police say it’s against the law to be black.” About how, despite this lingering tension, “everybody gets along and you can get a favor.”

Inevitably, though, talk turns back to Monk, Lepanto’s talented native son who is as complicated a figure as the town he came from.

“Nobody wanted to see him go, but it was the best thing he could have ever done,” said Young. “Best thing for a young man here is to get away from here. No future.”

Monk will enjoy a homecoming of sorts this week in Memphis, about 42 miles southeast of Lepanto, when No. 2 seed Kentucky comes to town to play in the NCAA tournament’s South Regional Friday night against No. 3 seed UCLA at FedExForum.

He quickly became an offensive force and a household name for the Wildcats, earning Southeastern Conference player of the year honors from the media after averaging 20 points per game during a freshman campaign that included a memorable 47-point outburst against North Carolina last December. By June, Monk is expected to be a lottery pick in the 2017 NBA draft.

But beneath that spotlight is a controversial legacy in his home state.

‘Escaping Lepanto’

Monk’s path to this point begins with his older half-brother, Marcus, the valedictorian at Lepanto’s East Poinsett High who eventually played football and basketball at Arkansas and set a school record for touchdowns as a junior. Selected by the Chicago Bears in the seventh round of the 2008 NFL draft, Monk’s pro football career was derailed by a knee injury and he played two seasons of professional basketball in Germany.

Marcus returned to Arkansas in 2014 to complete his MBA, right as Malik, 12 years younger, was emerging as a top basketball recruit. Malik had always looked up to Marcus, hopeful that one day he could take the mantle as Lepanto’s greatest athlete from his older brother. Marcus, in turn, had always been a father figure for Malik and wanted him to get beyond the dynamics of Lepanto, where the poverty rate (34.4 percent, according to the most recent U.S. Census Bureau data) is more than double the national average.

So Malik and his mother, Jackie, left Lepanto and moved across the state to Bentonville to be closer to Marcus after Malik’s freshman year of high school, once he nearly led East Poinsett to a state title.

The decision, Young said, was based on academics, because in Lepanto “he could bounce a ball and that’s all he cared about.” When Malik would return to town to visit, his grandfather would often joke, “Can you read now?”

Marcus Monk did not return messages seeking comment for this story.

“Escaping Lepanto was always the goal. Malik just did it early,” said Ron Crawford, the longtime president of Arkansas Wings Elite, an AAU program both Monks played for growing up. “He would’ve been the hero of the town, but he wasn’t learning anything. I know a lot of people, it hurt their feelings when Malik left, but it changed his life. It changed his life as far as his vision.”

Like the timber industry and cotton gins before, a great Lepanto product seemingly needed to go elsewhere to succeed. Surrounded by farmland, the town is best known as the inspiration for John Grisham’s “A Painted House” and an annual turtle race called the Terrapin Derby. But Sundays at The Woodz help the African-American community escape reality, and it’s here that Malik Monk forged his reputation.

He would often wake the neighbors walking the two blocks from his quaint blue house around the corner from the Lepanto water tower to the park dribbling a basketball. Though the baskets aren’t quite 10 feet, the backboards are covered in dirt and one of the rims is bent, Monk spent hours upon hours there, taking on all comers in one-on-one battles and honing the crossover fans see often today.

Eventually, he became one of the youngest players in those weekly Sunday games, when “it gets so intense people arguing, fighting,” childhood friend Dez Barnes said. “It means a lot to us.”

“When you’re coming up, you’ve got to beat the older guys to get the court," said Jerome Madden, Monk's uncle.

Those moments, and the town that created them, remain part of Monk’s identity. These days, his entire chest is covered with an intricate tattoo of “The Woodz.”

“My hometown is so important to me because it made me who I am,” Monk said in an interview with ESPN earlier this season. “We don’t back down. We show a lot of heart. Whatever I do, I do it for them.”

'The people of Arkansas feel betrayed'

Once in Northwest Arkansas, Monk’s rise continued. He starred on the basketball court at Bentonville High and discovered a more cosmopolitan existence than the one he left behind in the Delta. Marcus, meanwhile, became a graduate assistant for the Razorbacks’ men’s basketball team and got involved with the grassroots basketball scene. Their mother got a job as a nurse.

Given the family’s Arkansas roots — Monk’s cousin, Rashad Madden, also played for the Razorbacks between 2011 and 2015 — the expectation in Fayetteville was that Malik would follow in their footsteps. But he harbored one-and-done NBA dreams and committed to Kentucky in November 2015.

The backlash in Arkansas was immediate and fierce, and the emotions are still raw. Monk was reportedly heckled by a member of the Razorbacks’ basketball staff during pregame warm-ups when Kentucky faced Arkansas in the SEC tournament championship game earlier this month. His aunt, Hope Young, said she “couldn’t even go to the bathroom without Arkansas people talking crazy,” while there.

“The people of Arkansas feel betrayed,” said Crawford, a Razorbacks’ supporter who nonetheless agreed with Monk’s decision. “The presumption was that the University of Arkansas contributed to that (Bentonville) move and that’s not true. Everybody just assumed he was going to Arkansas even though the kid never said he was.

“Now, if you want Arkansas to be part of your life, you should’ve went. He will have a hard time coming home and there’s no doubt about that. He’s not just going to be the fair-haired boy here. He hurt the state of Arkansas. He insulted them.”

But Lepanto has proven to be far more forgiving than Razorback fans. Walk around town and a visitor will inevitably find someone willing to share a story about the Monk that used to live the Delta life with them. Perhaps it’s because they know better than most how much different his life is now.

Sam Young saw it when he visited Lexington, Ky., for a game earlier this season, ate filet mignon at a fancy restaurant and couldn’t believe how much the meal cost. Hope Young noted that she often finds herself asking people, “How are you related to Malik?”

“They are coming out of the woodwork,” Sam Young said, alluding to the NBA riches his grandson will soon earn. “I don’t want to know. It’s their business.”



Added Hope Young: “He has a backbone in his mom and Marcus. They deal with some heavy stuff.”

'A Benedict Arnold'

For better or worse, Lepanto always served as Monk's natural insulant. It is still the type of place where, “you don’t even have to lock the doors to leave the house because everybody knows everybody," Madden said.

And so, as Sam Young leaned against his truck one day last week, it seemed as if every passerby knew him. The 69-year-old can't stand for too long anymore, his body as battered as his ride. Arthritis from a tractor accident years ago is catching up with him.

But he's often been told his mouth does more than enough running for his body, and today he's trading stories with Sylvester Brown, a retired truck driver who happened to be biking down the street. The conversation bounces between topics both playful and portentous.

How Young could never dare Malik because "everything you'd dare him to do, he'd do it." How the pastor that just drove by keeps trying to convince Young to come to church. How Malik "couldn't throw the ball through a hula hoop" in Kentucky's NCAA tournament win over Northern Kentucky. How it "looked like his mind was somewhere else." How there are no women and no jobs around here. How Brown recently fixed Jackie Monk's fence and needs the money soon. How Young doesn't want to ask Malik to buy him a new truck.

But then Brown fixes his attention on the bright blue Kentucky shirt Young is wearing today, and calls his friend "a Benedict Arnold." It's then that the dichotomy between Lepanto and its most famous son comes fully to light.

“When Malik leaves Kentucky, I’m back a Razorback fan. I’m not a traitor," Young said. But then he added, "Who ever heard of Lepanto, Arkansas, before Malik Monk?"