It’s 11:45 PM in the Wilson house. The kids are asleep and VMI coach Andrew Wilson is sitting at his desk on the phone with Georgia State head coach Jon Cremins. There’s recruiting film in the background when he sees the name pop up on his screen: TJ Johnson.
It’s been months since that night, but Wilson says he remembers it like it was 10 seconds ago. It was April 19, two days before the transfer portal’s closing date. Johnson was perhaps the most important person on Wilson’s mind. He was in the transfer portal–but kept the door open to return–after a breakout season in which he averaged 18.3 points per game and was fourth in the SoCon in scoring. The choices he had ahead of him would determine whether Wilson had a win-now team on his hands or if he’d have to rebuild his roster entirely. Johnson had enough impact that his decision was a primary topic of conversation in Wilson’s house.
Wilson and Cremins have known each other for decades–since they were on Bobby Cremins’ College of Charleston staff together–but the decision to hang up on Cremins to put Johnson on the line was easy. Johnson never calls Wilson late at night, but he had something on his mind. Wilson knew when he saw the name pop up that it would likely be a monumental call, and he was right.
Johnson had just gone on a four-hour drive by himself. A few hours into it, Johnson got a call from an SEC head coach who offered him and told him he wanted to get him on a visit as soon as possible. The portal process started slowly, but Power Five programs began to take a real interest in Johnson down the stretch of the portal cycle.
The SEC offer and an offer from an ACC program were appealing to Johnson. When he hung up the call with the SEC coach, he knew he had a decision on his hands.
For the remaining hour of the drive, Johnson sat in silence. No music. No podcast. Nothing. He sat in his thoughts. He prayed. He reflected on where everything stood and what could be next for him. By the end of the night, he knew.
Johnson skipped the greetings and opened the call with Wilson by telling him who he had just gotten off the phone with—oh boy, here it comes, he’s leaving, Wilson thought. A few seconds later, he broke the news to him. He was removing his name from the portal and coming back. He decided that he’s going to give it one more run for Wilson. He decided that he’s going to get a VMI degree.
“I started to tear up on the phone because I was so proud of the decision he made,” Wilson told Basket Under Review. “He made a decision that very few people on planet earth would have made. It was a very brave decision.”
Wilson takes it a step further by saying that 99% of people wouldn’t make the decision that his star player did if they were in his shoes, and that he gave VMI hope by opting to return for one more season. At least, he gave the Wilson family hope that night after Wilson woke everyone else up to tell them the news and celebrate. Wilson says Johnson’s decision impacted other players’ decisions to stay–presumably that of Bradley, in particular–and that it was big news all around campus.
And that’s part of the reason Johnson wanted to stay.
He told Wilson during the season that he changed his life by taking a chance on him while he was still on the scout team at Lipscomb and that he’d forever be grateful no matter what happened next. Wilson once told him that he’d be on the floor dancing at his wedding one day–just like Wilson’s mentor Leonard Hamilton was at his–which prompted Johnson to think about how much more meaningful the moment would be if he finished his college career with Wilson.
Throughout the portal process, Johnson was constantly receiving texts from coaches and VMI supporters that he’s built relationships with, asking where his head was at. He was annoyed by their volume. He wanted to be left alone to handle his stress. Then, the lightbulb moment came. Texts like that and people like that were exactly what he’d hoped to find when he came to VMI.
“I kind of realized ‘when did this become not enough for me?’” Johnson said. “I have everything I want at VMI, and I was content with that. Now, all of a sudden, it’s not enough. It was a difficult process, and there was a lot of money involved that I could’ve had if I had gone elsewhere, and I could’ve done something I had dreamed of since I was little. But, at the same time, I also think it’s important to be loyal to the people who have been loyal to you.”
Johnson’s love affair with VMI starts with a coaching staff that he says he would do anything for–he says they’re difficult to say no to, too. It continues with the school’s alumni, administrators, and local supporters–all of whom he’s formed strong relationships with that are nearly unheard of in modern college athletics. To turn his back on them, he says, wouldn’t sit right.
He doesn’t judge anyone who would’ve opted to bolt for a high major if they were in his situation. He acknowledges that he’s taking the road less traveled and that some may be critical of it, and the money he left on the table. But, he’s okay with that.
“I think money, lots of times, can be a distraction to get you away from your real purpose,” Johnson said. “I try to look at things from a Biblical standpoint, and the Bible talks a lot about money, and most of it's not good. It says that money is the root of all evil. Turning down that money could have saved me from different, unexpected circumstances. Various problems could have arisen if I had left. I chose to take the relationships and take my word over money value.”
As if he were providing proof of concept for VMI’s program culture, Johnson was sitting down to eat breakfast at Wilson’s house when he saw the phone call come through from his brother, Trap Johnson. TJ wasn’t expecting the call to be urgent, though, and he wasn’t going to step out after Wilson invited him and a few of his teammates over to eat with his family. So, he let it go to voicemail and told his brother that he would call him back.
He didn’t know that he’d be in for a surprise when he made the call, and that Wilson also would be.
For now, though, it was a relatively standard Sunday at the Wilson household. Wilson has made it a priority to go the extra mile in connecting with his team. It’s how he kept TJ–who was an All-SoCon third-team player in 2025-26–and the rest of VMI’s core despite a demoralizing season. In a few hours, he’d find out that his intentionality made enough of an impression for him to land one of the most consequential transfers of his VMI tenure. But, all he knew in this moment was that one of his best players was stepping out after breakfast to take a call.
When TJ got on the phone, Trap got to the point quickly–as the Johnson brothers often do.
“I think I’m going to commit to VMI,” Trap told him.
“Are you serious?” TJ responded, partly believing that he was being messed with. Trap hadn’t updated any of his family members on what he was thinking or how seriously he was considering VMI. If TJ wanted information on the process, he’d have to call him and pry the information out of him. TJ had nearly given up on the idea that he and his brother would be reunited after Trap turned VMI down in the portal the offseason before, but he was slowly realizing that he wasn’t pulling his chain.
“I’m going to call coach Wilson today and tell him,” Trap replied, “I’m going to go to church, and I’m going to commit after church.”
Wilson suspected that TJ knew more than he was letting on throughout the process, but Trap confirms that he hadn’t tipped his hand at all to any of his family members prior to making that Sunday-morning phone call. He says that he could tell TJ was shocked when he heard the news.
In the days prior to receiving the call from Trap, TJ was wrestling with what he turned down. He was wondering if walking the road less traveled was that way for a good reason. He knew that he did the thing he felt convicted to do, but he couldn’t help but think about all that could’ve been.
In this moment, though, the thoughts subsided. He knew he had been pulled back to VMI for a reason.
“I think that’s where I was supposed to be, I think that’s where God wanted me to be,” TJ said. “Trap committing a week later kind of solidified that for me.”
TJ’s decision was bold enough to influence Trap in a way, too. He considered a few schools in the portal, but noticed the same things his brother did regarding how VMI’s staff approaches relationship-building, and says he knew he wanted to be a part of something like that.
Trap went to Montana State as a freshman, hoping to take on a big role right away, but wasn’t in the rotation and redshirted because of a few older guards taking on the minutes that could’ve been his. Wilson and company tried to land him then, but couldn’t get him away from San Diego–where he averaged 2.6 points per game in just 9.2 minutes a night.
All the while, it felt as if Trap was running from destiny. The chance to reunite with his brother in a basketball situation that fits him was always there in front of him, and he wasn’t going to miss out on it a second time.
“I didn’t want to make a mistake again, I had the opportunity to do it last year, and I was just like ‘there’s no wrong way to go with VMI,’ and I was like ‘I can’t do that again,’” Trap said. “I would just pray and ask, ‘What am I supposed to do? ' I was constantly asking God. And it got to the point where I was like, ‘This man is putting it in front of my face where I’m supposed to go, and that’s VMI. He showed me the way, and I finally listened.”
Wilson and Johnson’s camp want to make something clear regarding Trap: he’s not only here because he’s TJ’s brother. Wilson says he would’ve wanted to add Trap because of his skillset, even if TJ wasn’t ever in the picture for VMI. TJ takes it a step further and says he believes his younger brother will be better than him when it’s all said and done. Trap was a more highly regarded high school prospect than TJ, and TJ doesn’t believe that was a shortsighted evaluation.
TJ says that Trap is a do-it-all, chip-on-the-shoulder player that can handle it, shoot it, defend, and get his way around the rim. He says he believes his brother has been dealt a bad hand in his first two years of college and that Trap is in a similar position to the one he was in when he left Lipscomb, a position where he just needs someone to believe in him. Wilson certainly seems to, and says that he expects Trap to make an immediate impact on VMI’s veteran-laden 2026-27 team.
If he does that, it will indicate that he made the right move. Even now, though, Trap doesn’t have many doubts.
“I trust God’s plan,” Trap said. “Once I started getting the signs, every other school left, and VMI was there. Everything made sense.”
The Savannah River holds a unique claim in that it’s connected to three major man-made lakes that all flow into a stream that eventually empties into the Atlantic Ocean. In August of 2023, TJ, Trap, and their youngest brother Ty stared into it from a rental house in Augusta and could’ve come to the conclusion that TJ and Trap would never have as fulfilling an ending as the river did
At least, the odds that they’d end up in the same place indicated a long shot.
In a few days, TJ would drive from Texas to Nashville for his redshirt freshman season at Lipscomb. When he got there, the reality that a significant role wasn’t in the cards for him would sink in. He played 11.3 minutes per game, only appeared in 19 games, and averaged just 3.8 points a night. Trap, on the other hand, was a legitimate three-star prospect chasing big offers at Peach Jam.
The brothers played two seasons, which TJ describes as the best two years of basketball in his life, a sentiment that Trap would likely agree with, together at Belton High School and always had a desire to share the floor again one day, but they each had to chase their individual aspirations first.
At the conclusion of the 2023-24 season, TJ entered the transfer portal seeking a place where he could be more of a focal point. The place for that, TJ decided, was VMI, which recruited him heavily in a generally light recruitment. They thought the dream of teaming up was dead.
If only they knew.
“When I was in high school, I thought maybe someday we’d play with each other,” Trap said. “I thought it was a very slim chance. Once he went to VMI, I was like, ‘Yeah, there's no way I'm doing that, I'm not going to go to VMI.’ Now, here I am, I'm going to VMI now.’”
It’s not as if Trap didn’t appreciate Wilson’s program or what VMI’s students do out of devotion to the school’s military standards, but he didn’t think it was for him. VMI isn’t for everyone, as Wilson acknowledges, and is perhaps the most difficult school in the country to sign up to play for.
Any player’s career starts with Hell Week, an eight-day affair of intense training that includes cadets barging into the dorm rooms of the first-year “rats” every morning at 5:00 AM and a day of sit-ups, runs, and what TJ calls a challenge in every way imaginable–mentally and physically. When the week is over, a grueling six-month first-year initiation process called the Rat Line–which happens in addition to classes–begins.
“VMI is a very difficult place to be. It's got its benefits in the back end, but while you're there, it's very difficult,” TJ Johnson said. “VMI puts you in a lot of very difficult circumstances. It's not always ideal as an athlete having to do that, but it does have its benefits.”
Perhaps no player in recent VMI history has benefitted from the experience more than TJ. He doesn’t sugarcoat the difficulties of being a VMI student-athlete, but he’s always worked to keep what he’s doing in perspective. TJ and Trap’s dad, Justin, is a former West Point basketball player and an advocate for military-based schools because of the relationships, resilience, faith, and time-management skills they develop.
Justin admits that he didn’t always know he was in the right place at West Point, but believes he’s better off for staying and embracing the school. He says he doesn’t know if he’d be where he is without his West Point experience. West Point and VMI differ in some ways, but Justin believes that one day his sons will say the same things about what they’re doing now that he did about what he did at Army.
“Having to do difficult things helps you in life,” Justin said. “When you zoom out and look at the big picture of their experience there, they’re going to learn so much along the way, and they’re going to have a resilience built that will help them in their lives.”
Trap has barely started his military duties, but he says that if TJ can do it, then he can. He enters his first summer at VMI knowing why he’s doing this, though, to gain something from it and to do it alongside his brother. Wilson estimates that Trap wouldn’t be at VMI without TJ’s career unfolding the way it has, but Trap believes God’s plan led him here.
Perhaps nobody in the Johnson family would’ve drawn it up this way when they were sitting on the deck of that Augusta river house in the hours following Trap’s EYBL games, but everyone involved believes they’re better off this way.
“It’s special, indeed,” Justin Johnson said. “The journey to get here was different, with a couple of stops along the way. But we trust that God has a plan. We don’t always understand all those stops, but they’re for a purpose, and we’re grateful to have them together.”
It’s almost a given at this point. Whenever a prospect commits to VMI–including the Johnsons–an unsolicited reminder generally comes from someone around them. The reminder: VMI hasn’t made the NCAA Tournament since 1977, it hasn’t had a winning season since 2013-14, it’s had just two winning seasons since 1985, and it may be the hardest program to build into a winner in all of college basketball because of the military requirements the school casts on the players.
Wilson and TJ know that better than just about anyone after a 6-26 season. They don’t believe their overall record or 1-17 league record tells the whole story, though. That VMI team was missing SoCon Preseason Player of the Year Ricky Bradley in every game, was without its full frontcourt far more than it was with it, and was near the top of the country’s leaderboard in missed games by scholarship players. For a program that already has small margins, those factors were a killer.
The expectation level around this VMI team will be relatively low heading into 2026-27, but that’s a place the program is okay with being. Wilson believes he has a team that could be one of the most improved in the country. At the very least, he’s got a group that believes it can be something.
“Last year, obviously, was one of the most challenging years of basketball I've ever had in my life, and it wasn't really, completely our fault because we were just dealt a bad hand with injuries,” TJ said. “I think we really do have a lot of the right pieces this year, and I’m excited about what’s to come.”
Nothing is guaranteed for this VMI team–particularly in a league that has significantly more investment in player compensation across the board–but Wilson believes that you can win anywhere in college basketball. And, this is his best chance yet to prove that he can do it at VMI.
In terms of the Johnsons’ stories, this program has finally had the stars align in the right ways rather than the wrong ones. This group, these brothers, want to be known for that. They didn’t just come here to come together; they want to change history together. They want to be remembered forever around here.
“Hopefully we can have a really good year this year, and the guys that are here can kind of leave a legacy,” TJ said, “And so then, that's something you can come back years from now with your family and, you know, have a place to call home.”
