Cobb: A Biography

Sporting News, The, Nov 28, 1994 by Steve Gietschier

The longtime revered Redmen, once the rage of the Big East, are now the bizarre-sounding but politically correct Red Storm (they say, because of pressure from Native Americans; some joke it's to hide from last season). They are coming off their worst -- and first losing -- season in 31 years: 12-17 overall, a 5-13 conference record, ninth place, and no postseason for the first time since 1964. In the last six months, they've done everything humanly possible to make sure last season doesn't happen again -- not only successfully recruiting Lopez from Rice High School, the Catholic league champs, but two other blue-chippers: 6-foot-11 center Zendon (The Big Z) Hamilton from Floral Park H.S. in New York, and 6-5 point guard Tarik Turner from Oak Hill academy in Virginia.

Still, with too many holes to plug all at once and an incredibly weak senior class, the Red Storm should finish no better than fifth -- but it should be an exciting fifth. There's at least the promise of sellout crowds every night, hanging on the every move of a dazzling new star, cheering wildly from the moment he touches the ball; and tons of Dominicans, as they did religiously at the Gauchos and Rice, waving banners and Dominican flags, chanting like mad in Spanish, and strumming and banging out the charge on their tamboras y guiros.

Yes, Felipe Mania will rock the rafters this season.

On the court, Lopez -- 6-5, 180 pounds and still forming -- is the spitting-image of a young, raw Jordan, right down to the dangling serpentine tongue. "But I bite my tongue out," Lopez says. "Jordan, he just hangs his."

There's the shaved head, the unusually long arms, the elephant feet, the mischievous playground smile; then, the all-too-familiar stutter-steps, the head and shoulder fakes, and, springing from an otherworldly, bursting first step, the frozen-in-time floats through the air with the greatest of ease. Yet, with the weight of the evidence against him, Lopez, for some reason, insists on competely distancing himself from the comparison. He says adamantly, somewhat annoyedly, that any resemblance to M.J. is merely accidental -- this despite the fact, I'm told, he cherishes an Air Jordan highlights video as well as a life-sized, cardboard cut-out of Jordan still propped in his Bronx bedroom.

"No, no way, I knew how to play and I had my style way before I ever saw Jordan," Lopez says. "But don't get me wrong, Jordan, he's a great, great player, he's unbelievable, you can't take that away from him, but he did not influence my game." His idol and whom he maintains he patterned his game after is a veteran pro guard in the Dominican, still playing, named Vinicio Munoz, a 38-year-old George Gervin-type legendary throughout his homeland. He refers to Munoz as The Man. "He was playing in our Superior (Pro) League before I was born," Lopez says. "I was 11 when I first saw him, but I heard about him when I was six. I used to have dreams of being him, of meeting him, then of playing with him. I remember most that he always wanted the ball at the end of the game. He was always hitting 3s and slam dunking to win games at the buzzer. I looked up to him. No question. I look up to Munoz more than anybody. He taught me the game. No question." He pauses, then quickly, smiling, an admission: "But Michael, he's my No. 2."