The Florida sophomore, whose talent matches his star personality, has the Gators two wins from a national championship.
By JOEY JOHNSTON
Tribune Staff Writer
(c) Tampa Bay Times. Originally published April 1, 2006.
INDIANAPOLIS – His story has long since gone global. By now, it might be intergalactic.
Joakim Noah, basketball player.
Joakim Noah, athletic phenomenon.
“And to think,” Florida Gators junior center Chris Richard chuckled, “I can actually remember back in the day, when nobody wanted to talk to Joakim. He was pretty much ignored.”
Well, those days have ended. Somewhere in the journey between Selection Sunday and the Final Four, Noah has evolved into a form of currency.
“Joakim is a very, very big story in my country,” said Jean-Luc Thomas, staff writer for L’Equipe, the French sports daily newspaper who was part of the media horde that stalked Noah on Friday afternoon at the RCA Dome. “People are interested in everything he says or does.”
His father, Yannick, the 1983 French Open champion, will be at Florida’s national semifinal game tonight against George Mason. So will his mother, Cecilia Rodhe, the former Miss Sweden, a constant presence.
“This is my 21st Final Four and I’ve never seen something like this,” CBS-TV announcer Jim Nantz said. “Sometimes, you encounter people who just jump off the television screen. He’s not trying to do that. There’s just a charisma and magnetism about him that’s part of his natural makeup.
“People are dying to know more about him.”
And some people get a little too close.
The other day, Noah was followed by a female student (and her mother) into a biological anthropology class at UF. After the 50-minute lecture, the woman handed Noah a pair of T-shirts and asked for autographs. Noah happily obliged, decorating his signature with his No.13 and a smiley face.
“She sat through the whole class just for that,” Noah said. “It doesn’t bother me. It’s fine. It’s cool.
“Whatever.”
He Does Everything
This is the Whatever Final Four.
LSU’s 310-pound Glen “Big Baby” Davis, defying the laws of physics. UCLA’s grind-it-out Bruins serving as the antithesis of L.A. showtime basketball. No.11-seeded George Mason, college basketball’s Seabiscuit, being here (period).
Then there are the Gators, largely a band of sophomores, led by the 6-foot-11 Noah, all arms, legs, bushy ponytail and 1,000-megawatt personality.
Not to mention the basketball skills.
In four NCAA Tournament games, Noah is one assist short of leading Florida in all five major categories – points (69), rebounds (40), assists (14), steals (six) and blocked shots (19). He also leads the world in effort (much).
“He pushes himself to exhaustion,” Gators sophomore Corey Brewer said. “He goes until he can’t go anymore. Some guys might conserve themselves. Not Jo. He only knows one way.”
Game by game, the NCAA Tournament field has discovered his energy.
“Looking at him, he’s the definition of hard work,” Villanova’s Randy Foye said.
“It might be from his father’s bloodlines because in tennis they’re having to play quick all the time,” Villanova coach Jay Wright said. “It’s incredible that a guy that big can play with that level of intensity for that long a period of time. I don’t know many guards who can do that.”
Noah is different.
“He reminds me so much of Dikembe [Mutombo],” former Georgetown coach John Thompson said. “I call them instinct runners. He doesn’t think about it. He’s just goes. So many guys his size have to process it – I … must … run … – but it just comes natural for him.”
So does his embracing of life.
Passion Play
There was Noah, being whisked around the RCA Dome in a golf cart to media interviews. He was rubbing the shoulders of his driver, who said, “Don’t stop.”
“My driver likes the massage!” Noah proclaimed, smiling.
There he was, running onto the court for the public practice, doing jumping-jacks and winking to the Florida fans who called out his name.
“He likes to share his energy,” said Rodhe, his mother. “That has always been his way of communicating. He’s in a very protected environment with the team, but his personality comes through.”
So does his passion.
Noah’s chest-thumping and roars of emotion can work Gator fans into a lather. Those actions also can infuriate opponents.
“I hear him screaming all the time, from almost anything,” George Mason forward Will Thomas said. “I’m not wild about it.”
“The passion is what makes him special,” Florida athletic director Jeremy Foley said. “I tell our [athletic] staff members all the time, you need to have passion. That’s what separates great people from average people.”
It’s what attracts people to Noah. He’s compelling. The stories about Florida basketball all gravitate back to him. At the Final Four, that has been heightened.
“He doesn’t really like this [attention],” Gators coach Billy Donovan said Friday, perhaps in a pre-emptive measure to make sure Noah isn’t smothered.
But here’s the thing.
Noah likes it. He really, really does. And that’s what makes it more fun.
“I realize this circus around us really doesn’t help to win basketball games,” Noah said. “It’s 10 guys, two buckets and one basketball.”
Along with one 6-foot-11, ponytailed, frenetic sophomore who defies the conventional definition of a basketball player. He’s loved by hoops junkies, coaches, grandmothers and toddlers. He’s in a category all his own.
Phenomenon.