March 14--DURHAM, N.C. -- On the east side of Duke's campus sits Wilson residence hall, a sprawling, reddish-brownish brick building with no air conditioning.
This is where Jahlil Okafor goes to escape labels, to feed his Netflix addiction, to try to fit in while standing out for the No. 2 team in the country.
There are no reminders of basketball past and not much talk of basketball future. No Mr. Basketball of Illinois trophy, Team USA jersey, national player of the year mementos.
"I had enough shoes and stuff to bring," the former Whitney Young player says with a shrug.
This stop, Durham, N.C., is where Okafor is caught between boyhood and manhood. His transition just happens to be nationally televised.
About 100 freshmen live in Wilson, most of whom aren't athletes. Okafor shares a two-room suite with his best friend and point guard, Tyus Jones.
They spend their time rapping and giving each other a hard time. Missing their families.
"He's not a pig," Jones says with a laugh. "He keeps his room nice and neat. People look at him as if he's not human, but he's just a 19-year-old kid."
"A 7-foot 5-year-old," senior teammate Quinn Cook says.
Okafor also is a national player of the year candidate predicted by many to be the No. 1 overall pick in the June NBA draft. He's the first freshman in the 63-year history of the Atlantic Coast Conference to be named player of the year.
He is on the brink of becoming a superstar. A very rich superstar.
"Pretty much everybody here (at Duke) is the best at what they do," Okafor says. "I do my thing on the court, but we have geniuses here starting their own businesses before they hit 20. Being talented here kind of makes you blend in."
Something that has been difficult for the kid who was 6-foot-5 in seventh grade.
Here he is known by one name.
"You're 'Jah,'" Duke associate head coach Jeff Capel tells Okafor, whom he says hasn't brought up the NBA to him. "You should be a guy identified by one word, like LeBron or Kobe or Bird or Magic or Jordan. At some point in your career it should just be 'Jah,' and the world knows who that is."
'He loves, loves, loves his family'
Before the basketball world began learning about "Jah," he was playing the tuba. He was a freshman fulfilling his music course obligation and starting on the varsity basketball team at Young.
Chukwudi "Chucky" Okafor was there too. He's always there.
"He came to my band lessons and he was still the loudest one," Jahlil says of his father. "I let him know you can't do that."
Except he can. Except he does. The stage is no matter.
Jahlil Okafor had a minor role in a school musical and spent the rest of his time holding a spotlight. Chucky stood up during intermission and began clapping.
"Man, that's the best stagehand I've ever seen," Chucky recalls yelling.
These days, Chucky is a fixture at Duke games. He stands -- never sits -- with other parents a few rows behind the Blue Devils bench. His son plays the leading role on a roster with seven other McDonald's All-Americans. Chucky still is the loudest one.
"The Okafors should have a reality show," Capel says, not kidding. "VH1 or Bravo or ESPN. They are so fun. They have showered that kid with so much love and support. That's the reason why he's so happy."
To Chucky and Jahlil, love is a verb.
Like his father, Jahlil lost his mother at a young age. Jahlil was 9, living with Dacresha "Dee" Benton in Oklahoma, when her lung collapsed after a bout with bronchitis. Jahlil ran from the house hysterical, calling 911 from a neighbor's phone because his family's phone didn't work. His older sister, Jalen, was there too.
Benton died March 16, 2005. She was 29. Basketball became Okafor's refuge. The growing up began.
"She's completely my inspiration for everything I do," Okafor says.
Soon after his mother's death, Jahlil moved to Chicago to live with Chucky, strengthening a bond the two already had shared. Jahlil's aunt, Dr. Chinyere Okafor-Conley, helped raise him, just as she helped raise her brother after their mother died.
"The first word that comes to mind about Jahlil is 'family,'" says Cook, Okafor's roommate on the road. "The connection he has is incredible to me. ... I know that he loves, loves, loves his family."
Chucky, who does marketing for a traveling company, says he had some run-ins with the law as a teenager. Says Jahlil's birth changed his perspective. Chucky also has earned bachelor's and master's degrees.
"I don't want to seem like I'm not humble or I've raised the best son since Jesus Christ," Chucky says, "but a lot of this stuff doesn't surprise me. It's expected.
"He didn't just come to Duke as a place to stop. That's where he's going to get his degree. In my family, graduation is way more celebrated than Christmas, birthdays. He will be no different."
'He's got a ballerina's feet'
ESPN college basketball analyst Jay Bilas calls Okafor a Tim Duncan type -- tough without being over the top. Says his will be the first name called in the draft.
"His hands are phenomenal," Bilas says. "He's got great size and length. He's got a ballerina's feet."
Okafor's defense, particularly on ball screens, has been questioned, though Duke coach Mike Krzyzewski isn't buying it.
"It's amazing how good a job he's done on defense as a result of the physical play on the offensive end," Krzyzewski says. "The misconception about the ball screen is that two guys are defending it. Five guys are defending it."
Okafor is embarrassed by his struggles from the free-throw line, where he's goes 51.1 percent, worst on the team.
Okafor can't escape the talk, the dissection. He doesn't necessarily try. When he needs an ear, though, one person he calls on is Jabari Parker, a Simeon graduate about a year removed from Okafor's shoes.
"It's bigger than basketball between me and him," says Parker, who was picked second by the Bucks in last year's NBA draft after spending a season at Duke. "Of course I miss playing with him. ... We don't even talk about basketball that much."
His advice for his friend?
"He just has to go on his feeling," Parker says. "It's in his heart."
'The biggest stars on campus'
It's Tuesday, the day before North Carolina-Duke, Part I. Krzyzewskiville is deserted.
"Looks like a war zone," one female student says in passing.
Tents are half-collapsed under the weight of snow. School is closed thanks to an ice storm.
Jeffrey Ho, a sophomore from Massachusetts, has been taking turns sleeping here since the first week of January so he can get into the game.
He steps over some empty cases of beer to check his tent.
"You see him on campus, nobody really treats him any different than any student," Ho says of Okafor in particular and the school's basketball players in general. "People don't take photos or run up to them or do anything weird.
"But when they're on the basketball court, they're the biggest stars on campus. It's a very weird dichotomy -- the difference between when they're on campus and when we see them in Cameron."
In less than 24 hours, music will blast from speakers the size of small sheds on this makeshift campground next to Cameron Indoor Stadium. Students in Okafor jerseys and Christian Laettner jerseys will play beer pong on one side; others will gather for a small Bible study on another.
"It's crazy out there," Okafor says.
'My thing, my true love'
Chucky Okafor is, along with just more than 9,300 others, sweating 40-weight motor oil, which he wipes from his head with a white towel. He's clapping again, this time as his son is helped to the locker room to chants of "OK-A-FOR, OK-A-FOR."
Moments earlier on this mid-February night, Jahlil Okafor reaches for his left ankle with his left hand. He had just let loose a turnaround jumper and his size-17 left shoe didn't quite stick the landing. His hands cover his eyes. He's down for a good minute.
"There's no definite answer of what's going to happen next," Chucky later says. "As a parent, I enjoy being loud and supportive. I cheer on the whole squad. From a selfish standpoint, I want to make myself feel like he does better when I'm in the gym. There's no science to that."
Jahlil re-enters with 45 seconds left in the half, with him a noticeable limp. Cameron exhales.
He plays the entire second half and overtime of a 92-90 victory against North Carolina, finishing with 12 points and 13 rebounds. Twice in OT he gives the Blue Devils the lead, including for good with 1 minute, 42 seconds left.
Okafor misses the next game, three days later against Clemson, but scores a career-high 30 points and grabs nine rebounds in an overtime victory against Virginia Tech a week after spraining his ankle.
Okafor is averaging 17.5 points, 8.8 rebounds and 1.4 blocks per game while shooting 66.8 percent from the field, all team highs for the 29-4 Blue Devils, who are expected to be a No. 1 seed in the NCAA tournament.
That premonition Okafor had while completing a fourth-grade assignment, the one in which the teacher had everyone write down what they wanted to be when they grew up, seems one step closer.
"I wrote professional basketball player," Okafor says. "I thought everyone was going to say basketball player or football player, but I saw stuff like astronauts and chefs. That's when I realized maybe this is my thing, my true love."
'He's very gifted'
He has unfolded all 83 of his inches and 270 of his pounds onto a beige, L-shaped couch tucked in the corner of a players lounge inside Cameron Indoor Stadium.
A gray Duke hoodie spills over a pair of black Duke warmup pants, which spill over the walking boot choking his aching left ankle, the one he sprained the previous night.
"You have Jay Williams right there," he says, pointing to pictures decorating the walls, like he's showing off his new home. "Mason Plumlee ... I'm playing with his younger brother."
Okafor has danced with teammates after Krzyzewski's 1,000th career victory, has been named ACC Rookie of the Week eight times, and Player of the Week once.. He has stopped by assistant coach Jon Scheyer's number-retirement ceremony in Northbrook. He spent the good part of an afternoon with another "Jah," Capel's son Elijah, at his birthday party, to which he didn't go empty-handed, stopping first at a mall for a present.
He's leaving an impression.
"Scary is not a bad word," North Carolina coach Roy Williams says when describing Okafor's game. "He's very gifted."
An impression is being left on him.
A couple of Duke posters hang on Okafor's dorm wall. His king-size bed is here. He also has his PlayStation.
"I always knew I wanted to be in the NBA and play myself in a video game," Okafor says. "That was my goal when I was a kid. ... It's crazy to think that at the end of this season I could potentially have that opportunity."
pskrbina@tribpub.com
