Quintessential QUENTIN

Sporting News, The, Nov 22, 1999 by Steve Harrison

All Quentin Richardson needs to do is dominate the boards, carry DePaul to an NCAA tourney win or.... two and endure the Chicago spotlight--all while playing a new position in what likely is his final college season

For most of his life, Lee Richardson has driven an elevated train for the Chicago Transit Authority. He has roared over rooftops and laundry lines and glided past slums and skyscrapers. The soundtrack to his life? Steel wheels on rails.

Clickety-clack, clickety-clack.

For 31 years, being a motorman was a steady but unspectacular job, a paycheck. Now each trip up the Red Line is special.

When his tram approaches DePaul's campus these days, Lee lets off' the throttle, slowing his tram from 55 mph to 15. There isn't a station in sight. He doesn't care. When he crosses Fullerton Avenue, Lee stares out the window, peering down at the street below.

He's trying to catch a glimpse of this season's top college basketball player--Quentin Richardson. He also is Lee's son.

"I look every time," says Lee, who has spotted his little guy a few times. "Sometimes I have to stick my head out the window. I like to keep an eye on him. I don't think he even knows I'm looking for him."

That Lee searches for his son six times a day while driving his train says something about the Richardson home. Quentin's father is special. Has to be.

Quentin's mother, Emma Richardson, died of breast cancer seven years ago, so Lee has filled two roles. Perhaps because he was consumed with replacing his wife, he became the antithesis of the obsessive sports parent. He is impressed by his son's fame not intoxicated by it. In the process, Lee has done more than propel Quentin to greatness. He has helped "Q" deftly handle his fame, which is as big as the Sears Tower is tall.

"After Sammy Sosa, he's the biggest name in Chicago sports," DePaul coach Pat Kennedy says. Which is why Kennedy is more than happy that his prized player's biggest offseason move was only about 10 feet--from the frontcourt to the perimeter. It could have been to the NBA.

But what will it mean to the Blue Demons to have their star rebounder move outside? And what will it mean for Richardson, who passed on the chance to be a first-round NBA draft pick?

Q has been a big name in Chicago for a while. First, at Whitney Young High School, he was the best high school player in a city that takes hero-worship of teenagers very seriously. Then, by staying home, he was anointed savior of DePaul, one of college basketball's legendary programs before stumbling particularly hard this decade.

Averaging 18.9 points and finishing seventh in the nation with 10.5 rebounds a game last season, Richardson led the Blue Demons to an 18-13 record--11 more wins than the year before he arrived. Their 10 Conference USA wins were [bur more than the previous three seasons combined.

Now, a 19-year-old sophomore, he must lead the Blue Demons to the NCAA Tournament for the first time since 1992, and they must win a couple while they are there. Though he'll have more help--fellow local stars Bobby Simmons and Lance Williams have more experience, and the Blue Demons will add 7-foot freshman Steven Hunter, a top 50 recruit--Richardson is the key.

Although Richardson is 6-5, at best, he played mostly inside last year, where his wondrous rebounding skills were most effective. But this season Richardson should see more time on the wing, which will be his position in the NBA next season. It was the price for keeping him in college one more year.

When asked about his plans for this year, Richardson starts laughing. But he's not kidding. "Last year I was down on the blocks," he says. "But I've been telling my coaches I'll be jacking up 3s all the time."

There are obstacles, however, for DePaul. First, Williams has to rebound quickly from a broken right foot that is expected to sideline him into December, when the team will face Duke, St. John's and UCLA, among others. Second, Hunter, an athletic shot blocker, must be effective enough inside to match up with opponent's centers. That will allow Williams (upon his return) and Richardson to extend their games.

Quentin Richardson certainly doesn't look like he should hog the spotlight. When you meet him, he's just another guy. Not shy, but not overly outgoing. Richardson looks like boy who ate too many Baby Ruths as a kid, the boy everyone teased. His cheeks are pouch-like, like a squirrel's. His bones are the size of telephone poles. He walks slow, somewhat lazily. In fact, DePaul coaches often tease their superstar about getting too big for his britches. Literally.

"He was a fat kid growing up," DePaul assistant coach Larry Harrison says. "But as he got older it turned to muscle. In practice sometimes I'll tease him and say, `Hey, fat boy--don't get chubby.'"

"I have never seen such an unassuming player that is so dominant on the court," Tulane coach Perry Clark says. "He looks average in street clothes, but then he becomes a superstar."

Richardson is 6-5, 215 pounds. Most NBA types prefer taller and slimmer, someone from the Kevin Garnett mold. But if Richardson isn't the prototype--perhaps stereotype is the better word--of the modern basketball player, his game doesn't show it. Though he's chunky, he's also very strong. Naturally strong. He never lifted weights until college and used to run from the weight room in high school. His strength, coupled with an uncanny knack for finding the ball, has made him the best rebounder in college basketball.