Fast forward

Sporting News, The, Nov 24, 1997 by Steve Harrison

North Carolina may have lost the nation's best coach, but the nation's player--the fleet-footed and polite Antawn Jamison--is back for a potential encore Final Four

When he was 5, Antawn Jamison learned about being fast. He was at grandmother's house, and when she hollered dinner was ready, Antawn decided he had to have the first piece of chicken, so he bolted for the kitchen, sprinting past his cousins. Problem was, he ran so fast he slid on the floor. His face met a kitchen cabinet with a resounding thump, and today, if you look close enough, you can see a small scar under his right eye.

That was the last time Jamison's quickness betrayed him.

For the last two years, as North Carolina's star forward, he has used it to blow past opponents--and become the best player in college basketball.

When someone thinks they have Jamison blocked out--Whoosh!--he sidesteps them. When a rebound is up for grabs, Jamison has the unique ability to jump and tip the ball, and then, as everyone else is descending to the floor--Whoosh!--he is leaping again. And when Jamison catches a pass in the paint, before opponents can block his shot--Whoosh!--the ball is gone. Jamison makes everyone else look like they just stepped in bubble gum.

Relying almost exclusively on an inside game last season, Jamison averaged 19.1 points and 9.4 rebounds and led the Tar Heels to the Final Four, where they collapsed spectacularly against Arizona in the semifinals. Jamison then eyed the NBA--and the NBA seductively eyed back--before he stunned Chapel Hill by announcing he would return for his junior season.

But when practice started last month, the 6-9, 220-pound Jamison found the neighborhood had changed. Dean Smith, whose retirement speech brought Jamison to tears, had passed the headcoaching job to longtime assistant Bill Guthridge, whom the players affectionately call "Coach Gut."

The Tar Heels themselves aren't much different than last year's 28-7 team, just better. They are faster, deeper and more seasoned. They have maturity in the backcourt (ACC rookie of the year Ed Cota, a point guard, is a sophomore), another offensive weapon (sometimes-shaky junior forward Vince Carter is poised for a breakthrough) and a new face in the middle (highly touted 6-11 freshman Brendan Haywood).

But how they fare rests in the soft hands of Jamison, who will play under a microscope as the leader of this new-era team.

"We have tried to put coach Smith leaving behind us," Jamison says. "But it is different this year. At the start of practice, it was strange not hearing his voice there. I'll just have to work harder and be a leader."

When you meet Jamison, there is little to suggest he is the bundle of speed and hustle you see in baby blue. Instead, he carries himself more like a backup center. Quiet Laid-back. Happy to be there. Very polite.

He grew up in Shreveport, La., where his father built housing for the federal government. In 1990, months after Hurricane Hugo ringed through South Carolina, Albert moved to nearby Charlotte, N.C., to build. He then brought his family--his wife, Kathy, and Antawn's younger siblings, Albert Jr. and Latasha--because he believed the Carolinas offered a better opportunity for his children.

The Jamison family is strong, and today, on the cusp of riches, Jamison is the same unassuming kid raised in what Albert calls a "God-fearing family." Antawn addresses elders as "sir" and "ma'am." He dutifully attends church. He wants a college degree. In high school, he once missed basketball practice because he had to sing for the church choir.

"That choir boy stuff does get kind of old," Jamison says, rolling his eyes. "I hear that all the time. I just wish people would drop it" Problem is, the choir boy stuff is true. Just as he stays close to the basket on the court, Jamison stays close to his family. For college, he considered only two schools--North Carolina and South Carolina--because he wanted to stay close to home. As for the NBA, he says he would prefer to play in Charlotte, or perhaps Atlanta or Orlando.

"I like the South and the people down here," Jamison says. "They are just friendlier."

In Charlotte, he hangs out just a couple of miles from home where the city gently meets the country. He may be at Edward's Barber and Styling, slapping hands and touching fists with cutters and cuttees, where he passes hours and hours doing a lot of nothing. His best friend there is his barber, Matthew Wingate, a Mars Blackmon clone whose nickname is "Bluppy." Wingate, who pastes Tar Heels press clippings on the wall, keeps Jamison's scalp smooth and his head straight

"He stays away from the kids in the streets doing wild things," Wingate says. "Everybody around here just loves him."

Or he may be across the street at the Big Apple Deli, where he pals around with a little man named George Patronis, who is flattered that such a stud eats his hamburgers.

"He seems unaffected by being a BMOC," says Bob Angley, his coach at Providence High School in Charlotte. "Antawn has a rare gift to be able to relate to all kinds of people."