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I Was At A Longhorn Steakhouse With Wendell Carter's Mom And ASM Agent Christian Dawkins

I Was At A Longhorn Steakhouse With Wendell Carter’s Mom And ASM Agent Christian Dawkins by The Hound

I’m sure you’ve all heard the story by now. The NCAA is cracking down on schools and agents with the help of the FBI. They dug up all this dirt on a few agents who have dealt with a handful of college basketball stars, many of which went on to play in the NBA. The report details loans and impermissible benefits to a large number of the players, a tactic many agents use in an attempt to sway these kids into signing with their agency after they turn professional.

The story has been all they’re talking about on ESPN, which stinks because I don’t know where else to turn to for my daily fix of discussing whether or not Lebron is better than MJ and stories about sick kids that make me cry.

I read the report. There was one record of note that caught my eye. Wendell Carter, the star freshman center at Duke University, was mentioned a few times. Apparently back when he was a junior in high school his mom had lunch at Longhorn Steakhouse with an agent named Christian Dawkins. The NCAA law in question states that any expense of $100 or more would be considered an impermissible benefit. The receipt for the lunch in question shows a bill of $106, which ultimately means Wendell Carter should be deemed ineligible.

I’m here to clear this all up. Turns out I was sitting right next to Christian Dawkins and Kylia Carter, the mother of the student-athlete in question, on that fateful afternoon. I heard and saw everything. It was a lovely afternoon; I remember it like it was yesterday…

It was a rainy Tuesday just outside of Atlanta, Georgia, home of Gucci Mane and the Atlanta Falcons. I was dining alone at Longhorn Steakhouse because I like to drive around to random Longhorn Steakhouses and sample the fare. It’s a hobby of mine. So what? This particular Longhorn was marvelous. The lights were shining bright and the dining room stunk of steak sauce and old-cigarettes and depression hand sanitizer. It was the perfect Longhorn Steakhouse.


I arrived around 12:30 pm, just in time to catch the end of their delicious lunch menu. I had my eyes on the Roasted White Cheddar Stuff Mushrooms as an appetizer, followed by a Shaved Prime Rib sandwich. I get this every time, and it never disappoints. I was approached by a very handsome young waiter (I remember him vividly) and ordered a diet cola. I crave aspartame and caffeine. Let me live.

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As I sat picking my finger nails I overheard a very interesting conversation coming from the booth behind me. I could only hear bits and pieces, but it was clear they were talking about a young basketball star, and his potential to star in the NCAA and later the NBA. The woman was excited to hear this professionally dressed man gush about the teen, who was clearly her son. I heard her say “son.” It was easy to figure out.

As a fan of the cuisine at different Longhorn Steakhouses across the country, I struck up a conversation with the two about their order, as I peered over the woman’s back into their booth.

“Hello good people of Atlanta, my name is The Hound. Is that an order of Firecracker Chicken Wraps I see in front of you? How are they? Is your cola cold?”

They were clearly caught off guard. At first they wondered if I worked for Longhorn Steakhouse, but after I explained my passion for mediocre steakhouse cuisine, they seemed to get the picture. They let me know they were in fact enjoying their Firecracker Chicken Wraps, and then dismissed me to return to their conversation.

At this point I was intrigued, so I listened more carefully. They both ordered the Steakhouse Burger, which although delicious and satisfying, I found to be odd. Why order the same burger? At the very least they should have gotten two different ones and then shared a half with each other. I elected not to speak up for the sake of maintaining my distance. The burgers arrived quickly, and they both devoured them passionately while continuing to discuss the future of the woman’s son.

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The man suggested that him attending Duke University would be a better choice to help the boy meet his full potential as a basketball player. The woman seemed to like this idea. She got really fired up, and summoned the handsome waiter to their booth before she had even finished the second half of her (boring) burger.

“Hey waiter, can I see a dessert menu? I suddenly just got hungry for something sweet!”

Boy, do I know that feeling! I remember thinking to myself, “Yes, she deserves something sweet!” as I dug into my Shaved Prime Rib sandwich.

I turned and suggested the Chocolate Peanut Butter Jar, a personal favorite. She took my suggestion and ordered it, but the man didn’t want anything! His loss. The Chocolate Peanut Butter Jar is the perfect combination of chocolate and peanut butter flavors. I knew she was sure to leave there satisfied.

When it came time for them to pay for the meal, something strange happened. The man took out his wallet to pay, and the woman took a ton of offense to it. She didn’t want to let him do it! I thought this was odd, because it is often thought of as a kind gesture when a man pays for a woman’s lunch. However, she was quite persistent. She rose from her delightfully cushioned booth seat, and threw down a $10 bill.

“Here, at least take this for that Chocolate Peanut Butter Jar,” then she let out a huge belch and giggled.

“Excuse you!” said the man through his own laughter. I joined in on the laughing as well, which may have made them uncomfortable again because they both immediately stopped laughing. This was nothing new to me, so I simply turned and got back to my delicious prime rib sandwich.

The woman left promptly, while the man stayed and joined me for some scotch in my booth. We had a lovely evening together. I miss him fondly.

So that is the story of the day I was at a Longhorn Steakhouse and overheard two people talking about Wendell Carter’s future basketball career. It was weird but ended up blossoming into a pleasant night out with a new friend.

The moral of the story here is this whole thing is REALLY FUCKING STUPID and there is no reason any of these kids shouldn’t be allowed to profit off of their own god given talents!! The NCAA is a fraud and a mockery of an organization that lies to everyone about what their intentions are in order to make us buy into their money making machine that is college athletics.


It shouldn’t matter what happened at a goddamn Longhorn Steakhouse three years ago, especially when there are millions of dollars on the line for a kid who has done nothing but worked his ass off to get to this point. So what if Kylia Carter ordered a Chocolate Peanut Butter Jar for some dessert because she was excited that her baby boy was gonna be a star? Eat that fucking jar, Girl. You deserve it.


Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental or is intended purely as a satire, parody or spoof of such persons and is not intended to communicate any true or factual information about that person.