Glen Dean brings connections, experience to Idaho for final season

MOSCOW, Idaho – They grew up in the same house in Seattle, half-brothers with a mother who held jobs that often bled into the evening or night. T.J. Maxx, Marshalls, the open-at-all-hours QFC grocery store – these were Judi Sinclair’s places of work at different times, and her sons knew what she required of them when she worked late.

Glen Dean had to watch over Perrion Callandret, his younger brother by six years, after school. Callandret had to listen to his big brother, who at times seemed more like a father to him. And together they made a pledge to not let their mom down.

It’s something Dean, 24, remembers well as he embarks on his final year of college basketball with Callandret by his side as a freshman at Idaho.

“She had some crazy hours; it seemed like she worked all night,” says Dean, the former Eastern Washington guard. “And I’m mean, shoot, we have a roof over our heads, food, clothes. (She was) doing everything she can to make sure we have all the necessities to be successful. And we just took it upon ourselves: ‘Look, let’s stay out of trouble. It’s not her fault; she’s doing everything she can, so we’ve got to take on more responsibility than the average kid. We’re probably going to have to feed ourselves. We’re got to get ourselves up and get ready for school.’

“Shoot, I mean, we just made it work.”

After transferring from Utah to Idaho as a graduate transfer (under NCAA rules, he doesn’t have to sit out a year), Dean has a fresh set of responsibilities. He’s the most experienced point guard on a team that’s been almost completely rebuilt by Don Verlin and a staff that includes his coach at Eastern, Kirk Earlywine.

He’s expected to be a playmaker, a facilitator for shooters like Stephen Madison and Connor Hill and a leader. But he’ll no longer try to be a father figure to his brother.

That time, he says, has passed.

Calling home

Once he knew he would graduate from Utah this past summer, Dean started pondering his second jump in three years between Division I schools, after transferring from Eastern Washington to Utah in 2011. But first he had to make a call.

A few calls, actually.

Callandret had already committed to play for the Vandals out of Bothell (Wash.) High School. And when Dean broached the subject of joining him on the Palouse, he was on board immediately.

Dean, however, wanted to be 100 percent sure his brother was OK with his move, so he kept calling back and asking the same question.

“Of course I was happy about it,” Callandret says. “He asked me multiple times, though, and I was fine. Still am fine that it all went this way, even though he had to leave another situation. I feel like everything happens for a reason, and this is a good one right here.”

Callandret, 18, is a 6-foot-2 guard who used to go to the gym with Dean as a boy and watched for his brother’s approval (or criticism) from the sideline when he got older. Although he wants to learn all he can from Dean, the two have a different relationship than the one they had growing up.

“My brother is 18 years old. He’s a college freshman,” Dean says. “I’ve got to let that father figure thing die out and I’ve got to be more of a friend and a brother and a teammate first.”

Dean hasn’t just reunited with his brother and Earlywine. He’s also closer to his mother, who still lives in the Seattle area (he and have Callandret have separate fathers who were in and out of picture). And he’s playing one more collegiate season with a deep appreciation of his opportunity to be on the court.

In December of 2011, while redshirting at Utah, Dean was lifting weights during a morning workout session when a blood vessel ruptured in his brain. He didn’t get checked by doctors for two days, but he immediately had a headache, felt lightheaded and noticed his vision was impaired.

Dean was rushed to University Hospital in Salt Lake City, where he underwent surgery to repair the blood vessel. He spent nine days in the hospital and was told he couldn’t play live basketball for six months – which was better than what he and others had feared.

“This can all end very quick, as he found out when they cut his skull open,” Earlywine said. “He could have very easily never played basketball again. He could have lost his life. But if he can’t play basketball anymore, he’s still got his degree. That’s really important.”

Making a connection

Though Earlywine went just 42-78 in four years at Eastern, Dean says the coach’s dismissal in March of 2011 was painful.

The two stayed in touch via text messages after Dean moved on to Utah. And they connected this spring when the guard started to explore his options after graduating with a degree in mass communications.

As Dean looks back at his time in Cheney, he realizes now how much he grew up there. For that, he credits Earlywine.

“My two years at Eastern Washington turned me into a man,” he says. “It was under Coach Earlywine’s guidance. I mean, he made take a lot of responsibility.”

Dean flourished from the beginning at EWU, starting 29 of 30 games his first year and averaging 14.4 points per game in Big Sky games to collect the conference’s freshman of the year award. By his sophomore season, “it was pretty much my team,” he said.

“He’s always, really since the day he got to Eastern, he is mature beyond his years,” Earlywine says. “That’s because he had to help raise Perrion. He’s been more like a father to Perrion than a brother because of the age difference and just the circumstances of their life. So maturity was never an issue with Glen.”

That maturity should serve him well as one of 12 newcomers on the Idaho roster. He already feels a connection with Madison and Hill – “I like to play with shooters,” he says – and he’s tried to mentor Sekou Wiggs and Patrick Ball, both freshmen like his brother, as well as junior-college point guard Mike Scott.

One of his immediate goals is to earn his graduate degree at UI in adult organizational leadership. He also hopes to play (and eventually coach) basketball professionally. But he has another goal, too: to make sure his brother graduates.

“Hopefully,” Dean says, “(I can) leave the blueprint for him to carry on after I’m gone.”