It didn’t take long for T.J. Parker to learn that Northwestern wasn’t the same as most universities.
“It’s not like other schools because there are a lot of smart girls here,” the sophomore guard said. “They don’t really care if you play sports or anything. They want to know what kind of person you are.”
While Parker has his admirers around the NU campus, he and his teammates have to deal with fewer distractions than their counterparts around the Big Ten. Many of the Cats say some students recognize them in class, but the players are rarely asked to sign autographs or pose for pictures.
At other schools, basketball players — especially the good ones — tend to be treated like celebrities. That’s not the case at NU.
Parker did, however, notice his classmates were being unusually nice to him the day after the team’s upset victory over Illinois.
“When you start winning, everybody wants to be your friend,” Parker said. “But when you lose, they’re not going to be there.”
The fans haven’t always been there for freshman forward Ivan Tolic, who says he can go a long time without his classmates asking about the team.
“Of course when I wear my Northwestern basketball sweatshirt people are going to know I’m a basketball player,” he said. “But sometimes, people don’t know. Maybe I’m just a tall guy with a weird accent.”
Since the majority of NU students don’t show up at games, most recognize a basketball player only if he comes to class in athletic department gear.
“We’re not a school that has celebrity athletes,” said Madeleine Alkire, a Weinberg sophomore who has attended two games in two seasons. “I don’t know if I feel like sports are played up enough here to say, ‘Ooh, you’re a god.'”
At other Big Ten schools, worship isn’t out of the question.
Indiana’s George Leach, for example, is considered nearly a deity by many fans. During the summer of 2002, just a few months after his Hoosiers advanced to the NCAA title game, Leach stopped for gas in West Virginia on his way home to Charlotte, N.C.
When he went inside to pay, the cashier asked him if he was George Leach, the Indiana basketball player.
This year, following Indiana’s 73-62 win over NU on Jan. 17, Leach and his teammates stuck around Assembly Hall after the game, signing autographs and taking pictures with fans.
Illinois’ Luther Head also signs his share of autographs, even though he usually comes off the bench for the Fighting Illini. The Chicago native recently learned of his celebrity status when he dropped in at his church.
“I didn’t know the pastor knew me,” he said. “But he said my name during the sermon like, ‘We have Luther Head in the building.’ And he thanked me for coming to his church.”
Tim Doyle, who transferred to NU from St. John’s last year and won’t be eligible to play until next season, rarely gets recognized on campus. But the 6-foot-5 guard hasn’t always toiled in anonymity.
Last year, as a freshman at St. John’s, Doyle barely played, averaging just 1.3 points per game. Still, he says nearly everyone in the school knew his name.
“Considering I was the only Caucasian on the team, yeah, I was a little bit of a celebrity,” Doyle said. “There were some perks that came along with the territory.”
Those perks, which some say include meeting women who want to date athletes, are less pronounced at NU, according to Parker.
Still, Parker says he hasn’t had much trouble with his social life, especially now that he’s attending an academically rigorous school.
“I know it’s not hard to get girls when you’re a nice person and you’re well-educated,” he said.
It is difficult, however, for the Cats to get media coverage around Chicago. When head coach Bill Carmody arrived at NU more than four years ago, he had his own television and radio shows. Not anymore.
Now he’s limited to just a few minutes of post-game commentary on WGN Radio.
Still, Carmody says the Cats’ wins over Illinois and Iowa this season have helped raise the squad’s profile. And while Carmody wants his players to focus on basketball, he also hopes they’ll be recognized for their work.
Recently, Carmody reacted like a proud father as he watched junior Davor Duvancic answer a television reporter’s questions.
“He had his head down for two years,” Carmody said. “Now he’s actually standing there and he’s looking someone in the eye. It’s terrific. It’s part of growing up and maturing.”
Carmody says he gets recognized in Evanston, often when he goes to Einstein Bros. Bagels to buy his morning coffee. Still, he says people aren’t being nice to him just because of his quasi-celebrity status.
“After a while you make friends with people you see all the time, whether you’re a coach or a carpenter,” Carmody said.
Most of the time, though, Carmody and his squad don’t get treated much differently than anyone else in Evanston. But that doesn’t bother Doyle — at least not right now.
“I don’t think anyone should want our autographs,” he said. “We haven’t proven anything yet.”
