Whenever Kevin Artis looks at his twin sons, Jamel and Jamaal, he sees two distinctly different individuals, linked only by their last name and the love they share for each other.
Born just a couple of minutes apart, Jamel is likable and easy-going _ projecting both a radiant smile and an enviable sense of calm _ while there's more of an edge to his brother.
In their father's eyes, those traits only make up so much of their identity. It's their respective choices and what those decisions led to that have defined them, that have turned one brother into a success story and the other a cautionary tale.
The older of the two, Jamel is capping a prolific career at Pitt with a stellar senior season, leading the ACC in scoring while occasionally thrusting himself into the national spotlight with feats like his 43-point outing Jan. 11 at Louisville. On that same night, a few hours before their 24th birthday, Jamaal sat in a cell at the Maryland Correctional Institute in Hagerstown, Md., serving another day of a 12-year sentence.
They lead indirect lives, separated as much by physical distance and rows of barbed-wire fences as their present circumstances. What Jamaal lacks as a physical, every-day presence in Jamel's life, he makes up for by existing as a symbol. Every time Jamel takes the court, his brother is on his mind, not only as a source of motivation, but as a constant and harrowing reminder of what could have been, of how Jamaal's life could have very easily been his own.
"That could have definitely been me, but I had some smarts, I had a dream," Jamel said. "I wanted to go to college and play ball. Once I saw college teams on TV, I knew that could be me. I had a dream. I don't know if he still had a dream. That's what I think he really wanted. If he had a dream to go to college, I think he would have chose the right path. It's kind of hard when you don't have a dream. You're just hanging around, hoping for something to happen. That could have easily been me. I chose the right path."
