This Terrapin Not in a Hurry to Play in NBA
7/6/1999 8:00:00 AM | Men's Basketball
July 30, 1999
Terence Morris waited, impatiently, as if he'd been talked into going on a blind date he'd rather avoid.
The Maryland basketball star looked away as the door opened and drummed his fingers, long like popsicle sticks, on the cluttered desk inside the school's sports information office.
In one of the few one-on-one interviews Morris has granted since arriving at College Park two years ago, the All-America forward showed up 15 minutes early.
He wanted to be punctual. More importantly, he wanted to get it over with quickly.
Morris has tried his best to stay out of the public's probing eye, but his skills won't allow it. As a sophomore last season, the first-team All-ACC selection averaged 15.3 points and 7.1 rebounds, along with 1.6 assists and 2.2 blocks while shooting 35.5 percent from three-point range.
With that kind of production, Maryland is fortunate that he's more patient about his future than he is about doing interviews. Morris could have moved on to the NBA in June, when many believe his name would have been called early in the draft.
A decision to turn pro would have meant millions of dollars for the 20-year-old and his family.
Yet, Morris said he never seriously considered bolting to the NBA.
The reason?
"My brothers and sisters," Morris said, matter-of-factly. "How can I tell them that education is important if I'm going to the NBA after a couple years in college? I have to set an example for them."
Still, rumors persisted prior to the draft that Morris might not return for his junior season at College Park.
Maryland coach Gary Williams, unsure of his star player's future, even called Morris into his office.
"He said he wanted to stay at Maryland and wasn't thinking about the NBA," Williams recalled. "There's no doubt he would have been a first-round pick. How high? Nobody knows. But Terence seems to value things that most college students take for granted."
In addition to setting a good example for his siblings, Morris looked at the example set by former Wake Forest star Tim Duncan.
Duncan was a four-year college star, a rarity in the 1990s. His game blossomed with the Deacons, and he went on to become the national college player of the year before the San Antonio Spurs drafted him with the No. 1 pick. "Now he's got an NBA championship and is the best center in the league," Morris said.
And as far as the NBA's big bucks are concerned, Morris said: "I don't worry about the money because the way I see it, if it's there now, then it'll be there when I think I'm ready. And if it's not, then it just wasn't meant to be."
At 6-foot-9, he has a better-than-average touch from three-point range, can handle the ball better than many guards and can score inside against big men. That sounds something like NBA All-Star Scottie Pippen with a post-up game -- and no migraines.
"Every once in a while you have a player where you don't see any ceiling to their game," Williams said. "Terence has a chance to be great, and I don't say that about a lot of players."
Many believe Morris is good enough to keep Maryland near the top of the ACC next season, despite the fact that the Terps will be missing several key players from a team that reached the NCAA Tournament's Sweet 16.
Of course, he'll need some help. And more than likely, he'll be called upon to be the team's motivator, despite his quiet demeanor.
"He's not going to get up and scream and yell at guys. That's my job," Williams said. "That's just not Terence. Never has been, and probably never will be."
"I'm just a real low-key guy,'' Morris said in a barely audible tone. "I've always kind of been like that."
Just as Williams said.
"He knows being a leader means setting an example for others to follow. That's something he's been doing all his life, and doing a good job at it," Williams said.
The oldest of seven children, Morris has always set a standard for his siblings.
"It's sort of like pressure, but good pressure," he said. "I don't mind being a role model. That's part of why I always try to do what's right so that when they get older, they can follow."
Not many of today's college basketball celebrities say that and really mean it, but Morris isn't your typical college student.
If it weren't for the Penny Hardaway posters on his wall, there are few indications that his dorm room is inhabited by one of the nation's best college basketball players. His bed is neatly made and not a fleck of lint is visible. Clothes are hung up neatly in his closet, while others are stacked accordingly in his dresser drawers. His backpack is filled with books, with a few neatly arranged on his desk.
"I don't think I'm a neat freak," he said. "I just like things to be in some kind of order."
An art major, Morris keeps his work in a portfolio that is housed inside a studio. His favorite subjects are basketball players. Some have hair, others go bald, but most are going strong to the basket -- just as he does. He has been dabbling with drawing ever since teachers began planting "A's" atop his work in grade school. His basketball roots, however, don't go nearly as deep. Morris didn't play organized basketball until the seventh grade. Soon after practices started, he quit.
Although he was one of the best players on the park circuit in Frederick, Md., he wasn't prepared for the demanding schedule and commitment involved with organized basketball. The long practices, the repeated drills and the structure of the game was overwhelming.
"I didn't think I was ready," he said. "I was so used to going home after school, doing some homework, then hitting the courts. Instead of that, I had to practice, and I just wasn't ready for that."
But Morris also found he wasn't prepared for the tales his friends told the day after a big win. "I felt I kind of missed out, so I came back the next year and stuck it out," he said. From there, Morris went on to become a prep All-America at Thomas Johnson High School and one of the most sought-after players in the country. He picked Maryland after his sophomore season. He wanted to be near his family.
"Not a lot of people around here stay home," Morris said. "I like it so that my family can come to all the games." His mother brings signs, wears a jersey and makes it known to all at Cole Field House that No. 44 is her baby.
"She sometimes gets a little too into the game," said Morris, who cracked his first smile of the day.
"But I don't mind. She's enjoying herself, so it's OK."
by A. Sherrod Blakely
Raleigh News-Observer
