Where Ja Morant From: The Real Story of Dalzell, South Carolina

Where Ja Morant From: The Real Story of Dalzell, South Carolina

When you see Ja Morant hovering in the air like he’s got a private contract with gravity, it’s hard to imagine him anywhere but an NBA arena. He’s the face of the Memphis Grizzlies. A human highlight reel. But before the multi-million dollar contracts and the Nike deals, Ja was just a skinny kid in a place most people couldn't find on a map without a very reliable GPS.

Where Ja Morant from isn’t just a trivia question; it’s the blueprint for his entire "beneath no one" mentality.

He hails from Dalzell, South Carolina.

Dalzell isn't a city. It's barely a town. It’s a census-designated place in Sumter County with a population that hovers around 2,000 people. If you blink while driving through, you’ll miss the gas stations and the Dollar General stores that basically make up the "downtown" area. It’s rural. It’s quiet. There are miles of farmland and a lot of woods. Honestly, it's the kind of place people usually stay in, not the kind of place that produces global superstars.

The Backyard That Built a Giant

The most famous landmark in Dalzell isn't a statue or a historic building. It’s a backyard.

Ja’s father, Tee Morant, was a beast on the court himself. He actually played high school ball with Ray Allen. Let that sink in for a second. Tee played at Claflin University and was even looking at pro ball overseas, but when Ja’s mom, Jamie, got pregnant, Tee stayed home. He became a barber. He chose his son over his own hoop dreams.

That backyard in Dalzell became a laboratory.

It wasn't some fancy prep school facility with hardwood and climate control. It was concrete. Tee bought big tractor-trailer tires from a local shop so Ja could practice jumping on and off them. The goal? To build that explosive lower-body strength and, more importantly, to teach him how to land softly to avoid injury.

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  • The Drills: Dribbling through plastic chairs.
  • The Competition: Playing against grown men in his dad’s rec league.
  • The Food: Post-workout snacks that eventually led to his recruitment (more on that in a second).

Jamie Morant, a former point guard herself and a college softball player, was the one who hammered home the mental side. She’s the one who gave him the "Beneath No One" mantra. In a small town like Dalzell, it’s easy to feel like the world is too big to conquer. She made sure he never felt that way.

Why Nobody Saw Him Coming at Crestwood High

You’d think a guy who averages a double-double in the NBA would have been a five-star recruit. Nope.

Ja went to Crestwood High School in Sumter. He wasn't some 6'3" physical specimen back then. For most of high school, he was under six feet tall. He was wiry. He was fast, sure, but he couldn't even dunk until his senior year.

Despite being the school’s all-time leading scorer with 1,679 points, the big-name schools like Duke, Kentucky, or even the local South Carolina Gamecocks weren't knocking down his door. He was unranked. A "zero-star" recruit on many lists.

It’s kinda crazy to think about now.

He played AAU ball for the South Carolina Hornets. For one summer, he actually played on the same team as Zion Williamson. While the world was obsessed with Zion’s dunking videos, Ja was the floor general that nobody was talking about. He was the "other" kid from South Carolina.

The Best Bag of Chips in History

The story of how Ja got out of Dalzell and onto the national stage is basically a movie script.

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James Kane, an assistant coach for Murray State, was at a camp in 2016. He wasn't there to see Ja. He was looking at a kid named Tevin Brown. Kane got hungry and headed toward the concession stand to find some chips. On his way, he passed an auxiliary gym—the kind of "side room" where the less-heralded kids play.

He heard the ball thumping. He saw this skinny kid from Dalzell absolutely carving up the defense in a three-on-three game.

Kane forgot about the chips.

He called his head coach, Matt McMahon, and basically told him he’d found a pro. Murray State offered him a scholarship, and the rest is history. Ja chose Murray State over a late push from bigger schools because they were the ones who saw him first. He stayed true to his roots.

The Culture of Sumter County

There’s often a debate online about Ja’s upbringing. Some people look at his family photos—both parents present, a stable home—and try to claim he’s "suburban."

But people who say that don't know the South.

Dalzell and the surrounding Sumter area are working-class. It’s "the country." It’s a place where you have to work for everything you get because nobody is handing out opportunities. The poverty rate in Sumter is higher than the national average. It’s a tough, gritty environment that produces tough, gritty players.

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Ja’s sister, Teniya, is also a hooper. The whole family revolves around the game. When you ask where Ja Morant is from, you’re asking about a family that treated a concrete backyard like Madison Square Garden.

Why Dalzell Still Matters

Ja doesn't hide where he's from. He’s got "Dalzell" and "99" (his birth year) etched into his story. Even now, with the fame and the occasional controversy, his identity is tied to that small-town kid who was overlooked.

He plays with a chip on his shoulder because for eighteen years, the basketball world acted like he didn't exist.

If you want to understand Ja’s game—the fearlessness, the way he attacks the rim against guys seven inches taller than him—you have to look at those tractor tires in South Carolina. You have to see the barber who gave up his career to train his son.

Next Steps for Fans:
If you're ever driving through South Carolina on Highway 521, take a detour toward Dalzell. It won't look like much. But it’s the place that proved you don't need a five-star rating to become an All-Star. You just need a hoop, some tires, and a family that tells you you're beneath no one.

Check out some of Ja's early high school highlights at Crestwood to see the "skinny kid" version of the superstar we see today; it's a reminder that development isn't always a straight line.