Hardwood Paroxysm: The greatest things we’ve ever seen on a basketball court

The greatest thing I ever saw in person was Devean George in Division III

by Seth Partnow (@SethPartnow)

The name Devean George is somewhat synonymous with “NBA journeyman” and perhaps even “bad contracts” to the hardcore fan. But when you consider where he started, even that is a remarkable achievement. As a freshman at Augsburg College in Minneapolis, George was about 5’11 and 165 pounds. With some time and development he looked like he was going to be a very solid player by his junior year in the Division III, though still competitive, Minnesota Intercollegiate Athletic Conference (MIAC).

Of course, by his junior season, George had grown about three-quarters of a foot and added 50 pounds of solid muscle while losing virtually none of his quickness, coordination or athleticism. A long-armed 6’8 225 pound wing player with explosive leaping ability and ball-handling skill is just a bit more common in the SEC than the MIAC.

In short, he wrecked the place.

Never was this dominance on better display than the night he set the conference record with 52 easy points in our gym at Carleton College. He hit spot-ups. He hit fadeaways. He posted up. But the signature moment came about midway through the second half of what was a hotly contested game.

Being snarky liberal arts students, the crowd had begun to taunt George with chants of “CBA! CBA! CBA!” For those who don’t remember, the CBA was a rough equivalent of today’s D-league, though far less formally tied to the NBA. Pause for a moment to consider the ridiculousness of a crowd attempting to demean an opponent at the Division 3 level by informing the gentleman that his skills are just short of NBA level. The chants continued unabated as George continued to get buckets. Until he made them stop.

First, he cleaned the defensive glass, soaring high above our star player — no slouch himself. He snatched the rebound in one hand before slapping the ball with his other hand. It sounded like a whip crack. He then turned up court, slaloming through our shooting guard and small forward at midcourt like they were pylons in the All-Star Saturday Night Skills Competition. At the top of the key, he crow-hopped around but mostly over our point guard, before cocking the ball back and dunking with two hands, crashing through our power forward in a manner that augured bitter words exchanged between future Laker teammates.

As he turned to run back on defense, he seemed to make eye contact with every one of the hecklers, and brought his index finger to his lips in the universal sign for “shush.” The crowd shushed.