Small price to become better man

By GARY SHELTON
Published June 28, 2006

He could have been rich; instead, he is royalty.

He could have been a Raptor; instead, he is a rock star.

He could have been a rookie; instead, he is a champion.

From here, it sounds as if Joakim Noah got a bargain.

The NBA held its annual draft Wednesday night, and despite public sentiment, Noah did not burst through the curtains and plead to be included. He did not ask anyone to show him the money. He did not wear a cap for the cameras.

Today, like yesterday and like tomorrow, Noah is a Gator.

If you cannot understand the worth of that, shame on you.

If his world were about money, and only money, then Noah would have left skid marks getting out of Gainesville.

Noah probably would have been the No. 1 pick in the draft, which usually means a contract somewhere between filthy rich and stinking. And no one, not even Billy Donovan, would have blamed him. We have heard the sound of players leaving so often that we have come to believe it is the only logical course to follow.

If his life rotated around the NBA, and only the NBA, then Noah would have been all over your television during the draft. There would have been highlight clips, interviews, maybe even a new sneaker commercial. Most college kids are drawn to the NBA like a moth to a porch light. And no one, not even David Stern, would have suggested that

Noah should wait his turn.

In other words, if Noah had been just about anyone else with the possibility of being the top draft choice, he would have been gone.

Sometimes, however, there is more to life than fame or fortune, and bless Noah for knowing the difference.

How much would you pay for another year of being a college kid? How much is it worth to walk across a college campus where everyone knows you, where everyone admires you? How much would it be worth to run onto the court for next year’s opener and soak in the crowd’s roar? How much to play another game in Kentucky, another game against LSU? What’s the price of cutting down a few more nets?

Yes, Noah passed up some money, and he paid for the right to be Peter Pan. He doesn’t have to grow up. He can hang with Al Horford and Corey Brewer — the other Gators who passed up the first round -— and give the NCAAs another run.

From all indications, being a professional athlete is a wonderful way to spend one’s evenings, but make no mistake: There is a difference. Warren Sapp, the former Buc, once said that if he could have earned a livable income, he would have preferred to play college ball forever.

As a Raptor, Noah would be another tall millionaire passing through an airport on his way to one of 82 games. As a Gator, he is a legend on the scale of Steve Spurrier, Emmitt Smith and Danny Wuerffel. There is some value to that, too.

Yet, a lot of people seem to have turned this decision upside down. Once, returning to school seemed to be the admirable thing to do. It spoke of loyalty and priority and perspective. It indicated a player who knew his game still needed some work. If greed and immaturity is the reason so many underclassmen declare for the draft, shouldn’t

Noah be praised for conquering both?

Yet, from the time Noah put his lottery ticket in the safety deposit box and announced he was returning to college, he has been questioned and doubted and criticized. Few thought he was serious, and fewer believed he would not change his mind.

The thing that is alarming isn’t that people disagree with Noah’s decision but the venom with which they do it. What was he thinking? What was he doing? Certainly, Joakim was joking, wasn’t he? Not since Muhammad Ali was a young man has an athlete been criticized this harshly for avoiding the draft.

“I can’t figure out what’s wrong with Noah,” Sam Smith of the Chicago Tribune wrote in May. “The college experience? Baloney. What, he couldn’t find women, get drunk and watch NASCAR in the NBA?

“We’ll know later ... if Noah is eccentric or just stupid.”

The reasoning behind the consternation appears to be this: This year, Noah seemed to be the consensus No. 1 pick. Next season, he could fall behind Ohio State freshman Greg Oden, provided he makes the critics happy by coming out. That translates to no money this year and less money next year. Again, if you are discussing a man’s choice as a business decision, yes, there is a financial risk involved.

On the other hand, Noah has a starter for one season of college basketball. Despite his brilliance in the NCAA Tournament, when he ran like few big men the tournament has ever seen, when he passed and blocked shots and infused his teammates with energy, there are a lot of ways he can be better.

He can be stronger. He can develop a better jump shot. And if he’s a better player because of it, there will be plenty of money to be had in his career.

As for next year, no one is going to pay Noah to play. He’ll have to goof around with his teammates for free. He’ll have to stroll across campus while people call his name. He’ll have to play college basketball for the fun of it.

Poor guy.

[Last modified June 28, 2006, 22:31:24]