Kingdom come
Prince making himself at home in B’klyn after childhood without one
As soon as Taurean Prince got to Brooklyn, got to feel the Nets family vibe, he knew this was home. And after overcoming first a broken home and then not having one, he knows the true meaning of the word better than most. After Prince’s parents, Anthony and Tamiyko, split and he chose to live with his father, they found themselves living in a Salvation Army when they could, or on friends’ sofas, or even a couple of days on the street.
He was 12. But the experience toughened Prince without hardening him, strengthening his spirit without making it sullen. And it made him appreciate the two-year, $29 million deal he signed last month with the Nets even more.
“Yeah, 100 percent,” Prince, 25, told The Post. “I try not to dwell on things like that. I never allowed my past to affect how I thought moving forward or how I carry myself or made any excuses.
“Everybody has their story, whether it’s as treacherous as mine was or as easy as theirs might have been. Everybody grows in different ways throughout different situations, and I’m just happy I was able to come out on the brighter side of that and be able to make a way for my family and my kids.”
Those kids — a 2-year-old daughter and 7-month-old son — should have a far easier path to travel than their father did.
Prince grew up in San Antonio, but after his parents divorced, his father went in and out of jail. Once Anthony eventually settled 200 miles away in San Angelo, a West Texas cattle town, that’s when Prince’s journey got treacherous.
After Prince’s paternal grandmother they’d been living with died of cancer, they moved into a Salvation Army room with no carpet, TV or furniture — just lamps and a communal bathroom shared by over 15 people. And those were the nights they had that room.
Doors closed at 10 p.m., and if Prince came back late from basketball — his father would step out to wait for him — sometimes the staff would let them in. Sometimes not. Then they’d have to stay with friends, or even on the street.
That’s why Prince said “The Pursuit of Happyness” — Will Smith’s acclaimed biopic about a homeless father and son — was like an echo of his childhood, writing in the Players Tribune: “It always gave me a lot of comfort to rewatch it over the years, like it was talking right to me.”
And it told Prince he wasn’t what happened to him, but what he chose to become.
“I hear people talk about they didn’t have their parents, or they didn’t do this or that’s why they act a certain way. They’ve made excuses because of their upbringing,” Prince told The Post. “But I’ve never been the type to do that.
“No matter what position I was in life, I always use it as an opportunity to make it part of my story and come out on the better side of it.”
There were other uplifting parts, like middle-school pal Bowdy Thompson’s family taking him in, or AAU coach John Collins molding his game. All parts of the tale that have helped the 6-foot-7, 218-pound forward to become one of the most respected men in the Nets’ locker room.
“He’s just a pleasant person. He always has a smile,” Kenny Atkinson said. “He’s just got a great spirit. But there’s an edge and a toughness.
“Not the easiest background coming up. He’s got a real edge to him and it shows in his physicality, shows how he competes. And ... his skill level’s pretty darn high. He’s not just a catch-and-shoot guy; [he] can make plays off the dribble. He’s going to be a big key for us.”
Prince comes into Monday’s game against the Pelicans averaging 15.5 points on 44.1 percent shooting from deep, and he’s savoring the challenge of being his team’s X factor rather than shrinking from it.
“That means a lot to me. I hold myself accountable,” Prince said. “That’s the type of player I want to be.”
The type he made himself.
“I am not what happened to me. I am what I choose to become.” — “The Pursuit of Happyness”