Media questions caused unneeded stress, pressure for college kid
Tim Casey
Assistant Sports Editor
Troy Murphy awoke on Friday morning after tossing and turning all night. That afternoon he was to announce his intentions for next year. A few hours later, Murphy headed over to the dry cleaners to pick up a shirt to wear at the press conference. Only problem was he had lost his ticket.
"I went over there [to the dry cleaners] and said I have some stuff here," Murphy said at Friday's press conference announcing he'll be returning for his junior season. "They said `no you don't."
So Murphy searched everywhere for a shirt to wear. After getting back in his car, he found a blue button-down shirt crumpled in a ball in the back of his Jeep Cherokee. What was he to do?
Murphy and a friend had an idea. They were shopping at a local store when they saw a home dry cleaning kit.
"All of a sudden I was buying it," Murphy said. "I went back to my dorm and here I am."
Sounds like something a college sophomore would do.
But there he was, with a light blue shirt and a blue and gold tie, underneath a suit jacket, in the media room between the football and basketball offices in the Joyce Center, announcing a decision he thought he would never have to make.
"I wanted to play four years, have a good time and get some gear," Murphy said of his initial plans when coming to Notre Dame.
He's reached the latter two goals, and then some.
Coming out of Delbarton High School in New Jersey, a prep school known more for its academics than its athletics, Murphy was considered a top 50 national prospect. He averaged over 30 points a game against relatively weak competition.
Murphy lived a life not uncommon for many Notre Dame students. He grew up in the suburbs, near New York City, in middle to upper middle class neighborhood, with two loving parents. Murphy wasn't caught up in the crazy world of big-time high school and AAU basketball, where players are looked upon as commodities by coaches and agents. In fact, he considers his AAU coach, Tony Sagona, a friend and confidant who helped him make his decision to bypass the NBA draft.
He was projected as a solid Big East prospect, a player that might be able to start at Notre Dame.
But after leading the Big East in rebounding as a freshman, suddenly everything changed for Murphy.
In the fall, a reporter asked Murphy what his plans were for after his sophomore year. Thus began the speculation. Never mind that Murphy hadn't even thought about leaving Notre Dame early for the NBA.
Murphy was asked if he would have considered entering the NBA if there was no speculation, no constant questioning.
"Probably not," Murphy responded.
Yet after each ensuing game, some reporter would ask whether or not he'd be staying. The Internet was full of talk about the Murphy saga. As the season progressed, the NBA question even overshadowed the team's accomplishments at times.
Murphy could probably hear the Clash's "Should I stay or should I go?" ringing in his head every time he entered a press conference.
Such is life in this sports-crazed society where a 19-year old's decision is front-page news.
A week ago some Notre Dame student wrote on an Internet message board that campus opinion had shifted to where most people thought Murphy would leave. When the message was posted, several people looked at this kid as having some "inside" information.
The reality was that no one had any clue whether Murphy would turn pro or return for his junior year. Not me, not anyone on campus, not even Murphy himself.
But that didn't stop people from calling his dorm room every day, asking Murphy about his plans. It didn't stop the most popular sports related topic on campus from being the Murphy Chronicles.
"The media, the Internet, drives that [the speculation] and all of a sudden it forces a young man to explore," Doherty said. "Agents are calling players that I don't think are very good and may not be good pros. I think it's bad for the whole process."
These past few weeks have shown the other side of sports, off the court, where reality can be cruel. Consider two other highly regarded Big East underclassmen who decided to leave school to chase the NBA dream.
St. John's sophomore point guard Erick Barkley was suspended twice this past year by the NCAA for alleged infractions committed while still in high school. He grew up in Brooklyn, hyped as the next star New York City point guard, following Kenny Anderson, Stephon Marbury and all the other city greats. He was used to everyone wanting a piece of him, every lowlife trying to associate with him because in the future he might make millions in the pros.
So he decided enough of the NCAA, enough of their petty rules and chose to pursue his dream in the NBA.
Connecticut junior point guard Khalid El-Amin also decided to enter the draft this past week. As the father of two young children, El-Amin's decision was based on providing for his family. He may have wanted to stay at UConn for another year, but in his case, the money was too important.
Then there was Murphy, whose life had almost changed overnight from a great high school player to a future NBA lottery pick. He doesn't have any children to care for, doesn't need to support his family. But the pressure was still there because he's a first-team All-American, a prized commodity in the business known as the NBA.
In a perfect world, Murphy's biggest decisions would be what room to live in next year, what classes to take and what to do this summer.
But instead, he listened to advice from Doherty, his parents and Sagona. He conversed with former Notre Dame and current NBA player Pat Garrity and several other NBA players and executives, including "Mr. Jordan", as Murphy referred to the former Chicago Bulls great Michael Jordan Friday.
Then he came to a decision, not based on an uncertain future, but on the present where he's content being the biggest name on a football crazy campus and living on a campus where he can still be a kid.
In turning down the millions, Murphy traded a house for a single in Morrissey Hall, groupies for parietals, steak and lobster for the SDH, a yacht for the Boat Club.
And he has no regrets.
"In the end it came down to the things you can't trade in for," Murphy said. "The experiences I have here at Notre Dame, the experiences I have with my teammates — I wouldn't trade those for anything."
The views expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer.
All Sports Stories for Monday, April 10, 2000
