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Authors: Jay Williams
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decisions.
Thereâs something seriously wrong with a process that puts kids in that kind of position and then brands them as cheaters if the temptation is too great for them to resist. And so I didnât look down on others who made a different decision, and I still donât to this day. Step in their shoes and then judge.
Schools werenât offering me gym bags of money. They dealt in a different currency: minutes. Coaches from all over would guarantee a starting position as soon as I walked in the door. That meant a lot of playing time right out of the gate to showcase yourself for the next level. But I knew better than to trust anybody who guaranteed something that they could just as easily be offering up to another player in the next phone call.
All I knew was I wanted to play in Chapel Hill. I had played in the Bob Gibbons Tournament of Champions, an AAU contest, in the Dean Dome and was enamored with the arena. Dean Smith had been sending me letters, but he retired at the end of myjunior year and Bill Guthridge became the new coach. Shortly thereafter, I received a call from Guthridge explaining that they were dropping me off the recruiting list. They had just signed Ronald Curry from Hampton, Virginia, who was a beast. According to USA Today , he was the best high school football player in the country two years running, and if that wasnât impressive enough, he was also the MVP of the 1998 McDonaldâs All American Game. And with their point guard Ed Cota having two years of eligibility left, there wasnât enough room on the roster.
My heart sank when Guthridge delivered the news. He couldnât have been nicer, but I was fuming. I couldnât believe North Carolina was passing on me. It was pouring rain outside, but I went out anyway and shot what felt like a thousand jumpers. Fuck UNC.
I did mention I was spiteful back then.
Despite my disappointment, I consoled myself with the possibility of joining my friends at Rutgers. Dahntay Jones had committed there, and 6â10â power forward Troy Murphy of the Delbarton School, in New Jersey, was close to committing. I knew we had the potential to make some serious noise. I liked the coach, Kevin Bannon, and realized that this was an opportunity to stay local and put Rutgers on the map. So just like that, I made my decision. Or so I thought.
My parents have always lived by the notion that if you say youâre going to do something, you see it through. Once youâve committed to someone or something, there is no backing out. Prior to making my decision about going to Rutgers, I had scheduled a trip down south to meet with Dukeâs coach, Mike Krzyzewski.
âAs a family, we keep our word,â my dad said. âYouâre going to go down there, and thatâs final.â
I protested the entire drive down. There was a forecast for abig storm, and I prayed that the weather would force us to cancel or that weâd be derailed by a flat tire.
It was the longest nine and a half hours of my life. I remember going through Virginia and thinking, Oh my God, Virginia is the longest state ever. For endless, tedious miles on Iâ95, I just stared out the window, watching tree after tree after tree, trying to get to a school I didnât even want to attend.
But when we finally got there and I walked through the doors into Cameron Indoor Stadium for the first time, my disposition completely changed. The place had a special feel to it. Iâd seen a few of their games on TV, but I had never been there to experience it in person. I never had the chance to feel it. My parents and I walked into the dimly lit gym and looked up at the rafters. There, hanging down, were the 1991 and 1992 championship banners. I could feel every hair follicle on the back of my neck start to stand up. I know my mom and dad felt the same. You could almost hear the history just by looking at the stands that the âCameron Craziesâ have called
Thereâs something seriously wrong with a process that puts kids in that kind of position and then brands them as cheaters if the temptation is too great for them to resist. And so I didnât look down on others who made a different decision, and I still donât to this day. Step in their shoes and then judge.
Schools werenât offering me gym bags of money. They dealt in a different currency: minutes. Coaches from all over would guarantee a starting position as soon as I walked in the door. That meant a lot of playing time right out of the gate to showcase yourself for the next level. But I knew better than to trust anybody who guaranteed something that they could just as easily be offering up to another player in the next phone call.
All I knew was I wanted to play in Chapel Hill. I had played in the Bob Gibbons Tournament of Champions, an AAU contest, in the Dean Dome and was enamored with the arena. Dean Smith had been sending me letters, but he retired at the end of myjunior year and Bill Guthridge became the new coach. Shortly thereafter, I received a call from Guthridge explaining that they were dropping me off the recruiting list. They had just signed Ronald Curry from Hampton, Virginia, who was a beast. According to USA Today , he was the best high school football player in the country two years running, and if that wasnât impressive enough, he was also the MVP of the 1998 McDonaldâs All American Game. And with their point guard Ed Cota having two years of eligibility left, there wasnât enough room on the roster.
My heart sank when Guthridge delivered the news. He couldnât have been nicer, but I was fuming. I couldnât believe North Carolina was passing on me. It was pouring rain outside, but I went out anyway and shot what felt like a thousand jumpers. Fuck UNC.
I did mention I was spiteful back then.
Despite my disappointment, I consoled myself with the possibility of joining my friends at Rutgers. Dahntay Jones had committed there, and 6â10â power forward Troy Murphy of the Delbarton School, in New Jersey, was close to committing. I knew we had the potential to make some serious noise. I liked the coach, Kevin Bannon, and realized that this was an opportunity to stay local and put Rutgers on the map. So just like that, I made my decision. Or so I thought.
My parents have always lived by the notion that if you say youâre going to do something, you see it through. Once youâve committed to someone or something, there is no backing out. Prior to making my decision about going to Rutgers, I had scheduled a trip down south to meet with Dukeâs coach, Mike Krzyzewski.
âAs a family, we keep our word,â my dad said. âYouâre going to go down there, and thatâs final.â
I protested the entire drive down. There was a forecast for abig storm, and I prayed that the weather would force us to cancel or that weâd be derailed by a flat tire.
It was the longest nine and a half hours of my life. I remember going through Virginia and thinking, Oh my God, Virginia is the longest state ever. For endless, tedious miles on Iâ95, I just stared out the window, watching tree after tree after tree, trying to get to a school I didnât even want to attend.
But when we finally got there and I walked through the doors into Cameron Indoor Stadium for the first time, my disposition completely changed. The place had a special feel to it. Iâd seen a few of their games on TV, but I had never been there to experience it in person. I never had the chance to feel it. My parents and I walked into the dimly lit gym and looked up at the rafters. There, hanging down, were the 1991 and 1992 championship banners. I could feel every hair follicle on the back of my neck start to stand up. I know my mom and dad felt the same. You could almost hear the history just by looking at the stands that the âCameron Craziesâ have called
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