Nick KrugAlmarie Chalmers stood and watched her son, Mario, snip his rightful piece of the net at Detroit’s Ford Field on Sunday, commemorating his trip to this weekend’s Final Four.
She knew as well as anyone how much this moment meant to the Kansas University junior guard, the Jayhawks’ most mysterious star. She was watching as the dream began.
“I know at 2 years old, 3, 4, 5, he played Final Fours in the living room,” she said of her youngest child. “He had imaginary playmates. Michael Jordan, Magic (Johnson). He was always Mario. He played against them. And I think he won most of them.”
Several years later, he returned to the Final Four, this time for real, as a spectator. Watching UConn’s 2004 run to the title in San Antonio, he turned to his dad, telling him that one day it would be he on the floor chasing a championship.
Now it’s his turn. Not using his imagination in the house. Not dreaming from the stands.
Thad AllenderThe timing couldn’t be better. It comes at the end of a season during which Chalmers has made a subtle yet big jump. While he still is the epitome of quiet and collected off the floor, his game has evolved.
“I think he’s playing a lot more freely,” said Mario’s father, Ronnie, who has coached his son from the start, now as a member of the KU staff. “I think this year that he understands the system a lot better. He understands that when his turn comes to shoot, if he’s open, coach wants him to take that shot.”
The freedom comes from not only getting back to playing the style of ball that originally put Chalmers on the map, but being able to blend in on a team full of former prep royalty.
“He’s probably better off not getting the attention, because that’s just who he is,” Ronnie said. “He doesn’t care who gets the accolades, as long as we win.”
No longer Trajan’s tundra
Nick KrugIt’s not much of a surprise that Mario Chalmers, like most basketball fans growing up in the ’90s, idolized Michael Jordan, even though the NBA is a long way from Anchorage, Alaska.
Enter Trajan Langdon.
For the longest time in Anchorage, Langdon was the standard. Still is, to an extent. Ronnie Chalmers was an assistant coach at East Anchorage High when Langdon was coming through. The McDonald’s All-American led East Anchorage to a state title in 1994 before starring at Duke and eventually heading off to the NBA.
Ronnie would bring Mario, then 7, to practices. Once practice was over, Langdon and Mario would take over the floor. They took turns feeding each other the ball for shots.
“I think that attention that Trajan gave Mario really inspired him to think, ‘One day I want to be like Trajan,'” Ronnie said. “Michael Jordan was his idol, but being around Trajan day in and day out, he was right there where you physically touch someone, and I think it had a big impact on him.”
Confirmed Mario: “Being around him, working out with him, seeing the kind of work ethic he had, I just wanted to emulate him.”
Emulate him he did. Just as Langdon had done at East Anchorage, Chalmers became the cornerstone of a dynasty across town at Bartlett High. Chalmers won two state titles and became the second player in state history to earn the 4A Player of the Year honor three times, duplicating Langdon’s feat.
“(Trajan) is pretty much the first one that made it big in basketball from Anchorage,” said Doug Hardy, one of Chalmers’ best friends and teammates since the age of 7. “Now, I think Mario’s overshadowed his name. If you asked right now about basketball (in Anchorage), I think Mario’s got him beat.”
Hardy, who recently played in the Division II Final Four for University of Alaska-Anchorage, never had a doubt about his friend’s goals.
“They say (in roulette) you’re not supposed to gamble all your money on black, but if black was basketball, he put it all on black,” Hardy said.
Hardy recalled childhood slumber parties with his best bud, which usually included shooting hoops in the Chalmers’ back yard for much of the night, or playing any of the “5,000 basketball video games” in Mario’s bedroom.
Despite his rising stardom as a prep, Chalmers remained soft-spoken. He wears the words “quietness” and “confidence” in ink under his wrists. His pastor, Tobitha Lawrence, always preached the value of those qualities to him, Chalmers said.
“I think his strength comes from his quietness,” Mario’s mom said. “In high school, he had to be more vocal. But here, because he has so much support around him from other teammates, he can afford to be quiet, because there’s other people who understand his quietness. But quiet doesn’t mean he’s disappeared. It means focused.”
The real Mario Chalmers
Darrell Arthur’s turnaround jumper fell off the front of the rim, and three months later, he fully admits Mario Chalmers was the last person he expected to be there.
“When I first saw it, I thought it was Brandon (Rush) or somebody,” Arthur said.
It was in a Dec. 18 victory at Georgia Tech, when Chalmers followed an Arthur miss with a vicious one-hand slam that stunned teammates.
The 6-foot-1 guard rose over two Yellow Jackets, finished the slam, kicked his leg high in the air, flexed his arms and let out a primal scream that was picked up in all its fury by ESPN microphones.
“When he did the kick and the leg, that motion, that was quite emotional,” Almarie said. “My mouth stood open. I was like, ‘I know that’s my son, but wow!'”
From that point on, Chalmers began going for the kill at the iron more often. It’s not to prove a point.
“Coach (Bill) Self told me (before the season) I have to get back to playing my game,” Chalmers said. “I think that’s just my game, getting to the rack and trying to explode on people.”
It was his game at Bartlett, dating to when he first slammed on someone as a ninth-grader against Kenai High. But for whatever reason, Chalmers, by his own admission, only showed flashes of it as a freshman at KU. Then as a sophomore it practically disappeared.
“He’s been getting up this year. He got his bounce back this year,” Arthur said. “He had the bounce in high school when I saw him play a couple of times.”
Chalmers’ ‘game’ didn’t magically reappear, though. Part of it was him having to take initiative this past summer in the weight room with Andrea Hudy, KU’s strength and conditioning guru.
There were Olympic weight-lifting drills which mimicked jumping and running. The clean and snatch, plus the jerk helped add strength to the hips, knees and ankles. There was boxing for agility and footwork. There were hours of plyometrics.
“There’s a thousand ways to skin a cat,” Hudy said. “And we did them all.”
And on the stat sheet, Chalmers’ game took off across the board.
Entering Saturday’s game against North Carolina, he’s averaging career bests in points per game (12.7), field-goal percentage (52.2), three-point percentage (47.6), rebounds (3.1) and assists (4.4) in almost the same amount of minutes he played per game as a sophomore.
Most notably as a junior, Chalmers has emerged as the go-to-guy on a team that doesn’t necessarily need to have one – a byproduct of becoming a true leader.
His big-play knack surfaced in the final minute at Southern Cal on Dec. 2 with a deep three-pointer to clinch a 59-55 victory. He buried eight three-pointers (en route to a career-high 30 points) in a memorable 84-74 victory against Texas on March 16 in the Big 12 title game.
He also was given the reins in two of KU’s three losses this season on the final possession: at Texas on Feb. 11 and at Oklahoma State on Feb. 23.
“Mario’s probably the biggest clutch player I’ve played with throughout my career in basketball,” Arthur said. “When we need a big-time bucket, we go to Mario, and he makes things happen.”
Echoed Brandon Rush: “At the end of the game, we want the ball in his hands because he makes plays.”
The next step?
Chalmers’ plans for next season are not yet determined. His overall improvement in the Jayhawks’ second straight 30-plus-win season has brought the should-I-stay-or-should-I-go question into play. His play has pushed Chalmers to the forefront. His name pops onto various mock drafts as a potential late-first-round pick in this June’s NBA Draft.
Chalmers holds all the cards. College players are able to declare for the draft, test the waters without hiring an agent and still come back to school once.
“He’s ready (physically). I wouldn’t think there’s a question,” said Hudy, without hesitation, having already prepped the likes of Ray Allen, Caron Butler and Richard Hamilton for the pro ranks in her career. “He’s committed to being a basketball player.”
The same opinion is offered up by Rush, who would be in the NBA if not for last summer’s knee injury.
“I think he’s ready, because he’s got the perfect body, he can play either position – he can play the point, he can play the two-guard,” he said. “I think he’s pretty much ready.”
But first things first.
About 30 minutes after cutting the net in Detroit, Chalmers plopped down in the spacious KU locker room, ready to take questions.
The answers, as usual, are short, simple and to the point.
Like Langdon, he’s going to play in a Final Four. Like Michael Jordan, he could soon be a national champion. He’s going up against North Carolina, the school he grew up a fan of and where he wanted to play one day.
But you won’t hear that out in the open. It wouldn’t be Chalmers’ style.
“It feels great to finally get there,” Chalmers said. “I watched my first Final Four in San Antonio, and to actually be going back there to play my first Final Four is pretty amazing. I never thought it’d be in the same exact spot, but I had faith I’d be able to go back to the Final Four.”
Dazed and confused hours after postponing a news conference to announce his college choice, a weary Darrell Arthur fell into a deep sleep late Monday night.
The 6-foot-9, 220-pound McDonald’s All-America forward from Dallas’ South Oak Cliff High woke refreshed Tuesday morning suddenly realizing where he wanted to attend college, thanks to one memorable, vivid dream.
“It was me playing in a (Kansas University) uniform in a game with all the players – Mario (Chalmers), Julian (Wright) and Brandon (Rush),” said Arthur.
He figured visualizing about KU, instead of finalists Baylor and LSU, was a sign from above, Arthur indicating he “prayed hard” before going to bed.
“In the dream, it just seemed like the right school,” he added in a phone interview held minutes after Tuesday’s noon press session on his grandmother’s front porch in Dallas – where he signed a national letter of intent with KU.
Arthur, who said, “yesterday I would have signed with Baylor,” had he held a previously scheduled noon news conference – putting off the session 24 hours to further discuss his options with his mom and grandmom – felt he needed to visit with KU coach Bill Self one final time before fully trusting his dream.
Thus he phoned Self at 10:45 a.m. Tuesday.
“I thought he was calling to tell me he was going to a different school,” Self said. “I said, ‘Have you made a decision?’ He said, ‘No, we are talking about it now. I’m calling coaches to answer any last-second questions.’ When I hung up,” Self added, “I didn’t know where he was going to school.”
Arthur asked Self if he was the type of coach who would push him hard in college, just like his high school coach, James Mays, whose tutoring helped Arthur earn two MVP honors at the state tournament the past two years at state champ South Oak Cliff.
“At the McDonald’s game, St. Benedict’s coach (Danny Hurley) told me I needed a coach who would stay on me. Coach Self is that coach,” Arthur said. “He will push me and make me the player I can be.”
That type player is an NBA player, Arthur indicating he’ll play for KU “as long as it takes, probably one or two years” to be prepared for the pro level.
An hour and a half after speaking with Self, Arthur grasped his cell phone and sent a text message to the Jayhawk mentor, who had just left the podium after giving a speech on behalf of Big Brothers/Big Sisters at Maceli’s Restaurant – 10th and New Hampshire.
Self, who noticed the name “Shady” (as in Arthur’s nickname, ‘Slim Shady’) on his phone clicked a button and read the message, “I’m going to Kansas!”
A giddy Self left the restaurant and ‘texted’ Arthur back and also Arthur’s mom, Sandra.
“He was the happiest coach,” Arthur said.
Self didn’t speak again with Arthur until about 3 p.m. when Self’s cell phone clanged in his Parrott Athletic Complex office.
“Shady … how you doin’? You OK man?”’ Self bellowed, leaving his desk to chat with KU’s newest player in an adjacent hallway.
Upon his return, Self was beaming, not just because he landed a power forward he ranks the “best we ever recruited,” but because he didn’t think the Jayhawks would win the recruiting battle.
Arthur, a friend of Keith Langford who attended Late Night With Roy Williams when he was in junior high, also was in the Allen Fieldhouse stands for Late Night in the Phog last October.
Yet Arthur didn’t sign in November, prolonging his recruiting until the spring signing period.
“It feels sweet now because we felt we were not going to get him,” Self said. “When he didn’t sign early we felt, ‘Oh geez we did all we could do and he still hasn’t made a decision.’ Other people came in late and we were still able to get him.”
Indiana and Texas were KU’s main competitors during the early signing period; Baylor and LSU the past month or so.
“LSU was hot,” Self said. “They go to the FInal Four, lose a guy playing the same position (freshman Tyrus Thomas), who some are calling a top-three pick. Shady could slide in there and play next to ‘Big Baby’ (Glen Davis). They had a lot to sell. Baylor was there from the get-go.”
As happy as Self was Tuesday, Baylor’s coaches had to be stunned realizing the Bears on Monday were the choice of rivals.com’s No. 16-rated player and No. 3 power forward.
“It was a real hard decision. Kansas is known as a basketball school,” Arthur said. “Baylor is an up-and-coming program and I like the coaching staff. But I had concerns about how good we’d be at Baylor. I didn’t know how far we’d get in the NCAA Tournament or if we’d go to the NCAA Tournament. Kansas has a lot of good players and I want to help them win a national championship.”
Arthur’s mom, who was heartbroken the news conference was canceled Monday – “I was sick to my stomach; I wanted to go ahead and get it over with,” Sandra said – nonetheless was delighted a day later.
“I’m crazy about the coaches,” she said of KU’s coaches. “But it was hard. I also like coach (Scott) Drew at Baylor and that whole family staff. Everybody was great. That’s why the decision was so hard to make.”
She admitted she was a bit surprised her son chose to attend school out of state.
“For one thing, he always wanted to live in Texas,” Sandra said. “I thought, ‘Well maybe it’s best to pick a school in Texas.’ But it didn’t turn out that way. It was difficult on him. I don’t think he really got an answer until last night. He said he prayed and prayed. He said he kept dreaming all night. And Kansas kept popping in his head all night. That prompted to him to go ahead and pick Kansas.”
A decision that had Arthur content Tuesday.
“I’ll sleep well tonight,” he said.
Darrell Arthur said he made Kansas University his college choice in response
to a dream in the wee hours of Tuesday morning in which he was playing in a
game for KU in full uniform.
Here, thanks to this week’s fascinating article in “U.S. News and World Report”
is a list of other individuals who made crucial decisions based on dreams:
Source: U.S. News & World Report
Journal-World sports writer Jesse Newell participated in Sunday’s walk-on tryout for the Kansas University men’s basketball team. The following is his sixth column describing his preparation for and participation in the tryout.
It all seems surreal as I walk through the tunnel at Allen Fieldhouse.
I have only eaten four bagels all day, being sure to layer them with honey and no dairy products that might sour my stomach.
I am wearing my friend Shawn’s basketball shoes, beat up and smelly but still better than the running shoes I wear to class.
I have drunk more water today than in the past week.
But there’s still something about the bright lights of Allen Fieldhouse.
My stomach hurts. This is it. And I’m not so sure I’m ready.
It’s not just me, either. There’s Brett from Houston, who tells me he has tried out for three years. He has a sweet stroke, though he knows sometimes that’s hard to show in a tryout setting. We talk about our game plans – which involve defense, hustle and more defense.
It’s 7:30 p.m., and the crowd silences as assistant coach Tim Jankovich enters the fieldhouse.
We start with sprints, which involve running baseline to baseline. I get squeezed between two guys and finish near the end of the first one.
Not a good start, especially after all the work I’ve done.
We move to layup drills, and I immediately get to use my developing skill of dribbling with my left hand. I take some pride in knowing that, even at this level, some guys haven’t worked on it as much as I have.
I don’t even dribble the ball off my knee. I take it as a victory.
Jankovich stops us and makes us line up, shortest to tallest. My worst fear is realized.
I am the shortest one of the 27 trying out. Maybe 5-foot-8 is closer than I thought.
We split up for shooting drills, and my highlight is nailing six straight shots from the elbow.
I have to give the credit to KU women’s player Erica Hallman. I’m not sure how my form was. But I know for sure that I was thinking about absolutely nothing.
Like everyone else in the gym, I have noticed a certain face up in the crowd.
No one has said anything, but we all know head coach Bill Self is watching.
We break up into one-on-one groups, and I know this is my place to show what the coaches are looking for.
With six guys at each basket, you play until you are scored upon. Then the next guy comes in.
I focus on what will make me stand out the most: tenacious on-the-ball defense.
It works. Some of the contenders aren’t used to having people guard them so closely or box them out. I force a miss, then hit a jump shot.
Then drain another. And another.
The next player steps in, and I take three dribbles, stop, pump-fake and put up an ugly hook shot from 12 feet.
It miraculously falls.
I want to look up so bad. I want to see if Self, 25 feet away, is watching me in this, my one shining moment.
After hitting another guarded jumper, I finally am forced off the court after an airball.
I am exhausted but still amazed at what has just happened. It takes me a second to realize where I had just been.
I had been in “the zone.”
A few minutes later, we break into one full-court game. I focus on defense and running hard all the time. Offense is in the very back of my mind.
Everything seems like a blur once stepping onto the court, and I only remember so much.
But I do remember getting the ball inside. I pump-fake, then take a dribble across the lane and shoot a baby hook off the glass.
Two points. I close my eyes and vow never to forget it.
I miss an easy lay-in later and also steal an inbounds pass, only to have assistant coach Danny Manning blow the whistle and switch up groups.
I walk off the court with one of the widest smiles I’ve worn in a long time.
I watch as Brett takes the first charge of the night. I cheer him on, knowing this will get the coaches’ attention more than any shot he will ever make.
After another short scrimmage, the tryout is over. Jankovich calls us in.
He tells us this is the best group they’ve had in three years of tryouts. There would be a list posted this afternoon to announce the 10 or 12 players who will come back for an additional tryout Tuesday.
I walk by assistant coach Kurtis Townsend, and he tells me, ‘Good job.’ It’s not one of those phony “Nice try” good jobs, but one he sincerely means.
I sincerely take it as a compliment.
I find Jankovich just before he leaves. I ask him his honest opinion, if he even saw me at all.
“You got off to a great start in one-on-one, making some unbelievable tough shots before the airball,” he says. “Not that the airball counts any more than one miss, but sometimes it stands out more than others.”
He continues.
“But,” he says, “I thought you had every bit as good a performance or better than I would have expected having seen the film. I think you can walk away with your head high.”
And that’s exactly what I’ll do.
I had accomplished what I had wanted to. I had proved to myself that I could compete if I worked hard enough. I had let out that kid who always had dreamed of playing at Allen Fieldhouse, maybe not making the most jumpers but still giving it his all.
I had tried out. And that’s what was most important.
I don’t need a list to tell me if I succeeded.
Maybe I’ll check it, but probably I won’t. I certainly wouldn’t assume that even with a career day that I was one of the best 10 basketball players on the court.
Perhaps Brett sums it all up best.
I find him after tryouts, just to shake his hand one more time and ask him how he feels.
“I went as hard as I can, and that’s all I can ask,” he says. “I’m just chasing the dream.”
I understand, Brett. We all do.
I’ve just chased mine as far as it will go. And had the time of my life doing it.
