Is There Such a Thing as a Perfect 10?

Justin Jenifer, one of the country's most-talented 10-year-old basketball players, has become hotly pursued by aggressive AAU teams, high school coaches and shoe companies. (Preston Keres - The Washington Post)

Elite high school teams also started to pursue Justin this season. He's become familiar with a handful of top high school coaches, though he sometimes has trouble remembering which school each man represents.

Howard has a cousin, Damien Jenifer, who works as an assistant varsity basketball coach at Montrose Christian in Rockville, and Justin watched its varsity team practice earlier this season. Damien said the Montrose coaching staff would love for Justin to enroll as soon as next year, for the fifth grade. "We could instill the discipline here," Damien said. "We could work him out and make sure he's improving every day."

Baltimore area private schools Boys' Latin and McDonogh might also like Justin to attend in sixth grade to "lock him in" for high school, Howard said. Tony Martin, the head coach at the John Carroll School in Bel Air, Md., already has seen Justin play a few times. Mount St. Joseph Coach Pat Clatchey said he might actively recruit Justin starting in sixth grade.

"It's kind of crazy to talk about a 10-year-old, but he's on everyone's radar," said Clatchey, whose team finished 38-1 last season. "His ability to handle the ball, his vision on the floor . . . those aren't just tremendous for someone that young; I'd take any player who can do that. I don't think there's a coach in the state who doesn't want Justin in his uniform."

College recruiting Web sites will rank Justin for the first time next year, as a fifth-grader, and he could well be No. 1 nationally in his class. By middle school, the shoe companies will beg him to go to their summer camps. The first college recruiting letter will probably roll in shortly after that, Howard said. Then the high school coaches will really descend.

Kisha said visions of that future sometimes wake her up in the middle of the night. "It's too much," she said. Already, she runs interference between Justin and the men who pursue him. Justin practices regularly at Hoops, a large gym near his house in Baltimore, and men impressed with his jump shot sometimes give him a few dollars, Kisha said. Last year, Los Angeles Clippers guard Sam Cassell, who is from Baltimore, watched Justin make a dozen consecutive jumpers and slipped a $100 bill in the boy's pocket.

Each gift blends together for Justin, who still lacks a solid grasp of money's worth. He heard the song of an ice cream truck outside his home last month and rushed into his room to grab money for a SpongeBob ice cream pop. He bolted out the door holding $13.

"I try to tell Justin, 'You can't always take free money, free shoes, free food,' " Kisha said. "Later down the line, I don't want everybody to be looking at Justin like he owes them.

"All these people, it's a little like they're trying to buy him or something. And I'm like: 'Wait a second. You really want to do this? My son is 10. He's not for sale.' "