RALEIGH - It's never easy to pick out the perfect Christmas present, especially for an eight-year-old whose wish list seemingly spanned every aisle of Toys "R" Us.
But Vivian Harper didn't have to meet Geoffrey the Giraffe to find that gift for her son. The gift she found didn't talk, didn't move and didn't even need any batteries-it just, well, stood there.
But when her son Chris Duhon saw that gift for the first time, anchored to the side of the driveway and sparkling with newness, his eyes lit up and his mom immediately knew she couldn't have found a better present.
Ten years later, Duhon's eyes were lit up again when asked about that Christmas present. The gift isn't new anymore, but somehow it has never changed.
The beaming, innocent tyke just grew into a beaming, innocent teenager-one who now bears the future of Duke basketball across the same shoulders that bore the sweaty t-shirt 10 years ago.
"That was my first hoop," said Duhon after playing in Monday night's Sonny Vaccaro's Roundball Classic in Raleigh. "It's still standing, it's kind of leaning with no net right now, but I won't give it away for anything. That's where it all started. I wouldn't be here without the hoop and without the support of my family. I gotta have that hoop."
That hoop has survived the countless shots an eight-year-old Duhon fired up after school, in the evening and into ungodly hours at night. The solitary hoop and the dark, empty driveway, lit by one streetlight, provided the perfect outlet for a young Duhon's tireless energy.
Picasso had his canvas and palette; Duhon had his hoop and driveway.
And by the age of 10, Duhon was well on his way to becoming a maestro at his own brand of art.
"I was dominating everyone at the all-star games," Duhon said. "I was winning MVP after MVP, so it was just like, 'Hey, this is something special.'"
Soon enough, Duhon became that something special. The first time Duhon skied for a dunk, that driveway
Sure, the family moved four times and Duhon began dunking with regularity, but everywhere he went, Duhon took his basket with him. The hoop predictably fell apart, the rim-supporting springs rusted and withered away, the rim began tilting toward the left and the net, well, there isn't a net. But Duhon didn't care. The streetlight still flickered, the driveway was still empty, and the rim was still hanging, if only barely.
By Duhon's sophomore year at Salmen High in Slidell, La., the basket that a passer-by wouldn't give up as much as a dollar bill for would be worth so much more to Duhon. The ready-to-collapse goal standing in the Duhon driveway had him dreaming about many dollar bills-about 36 million of them.
"My best friend, Tory Peters and I, back sophomore year, I think that's what [Michael] Jordan's salary was," Duhon said. "That was one of our goals-that one year, we'd make 36 million dollars. So every good play we made, we'd yell out, '36 mil.'"
The visions of NBA riches, however, soon gave way to the endless ringing of telephones. Duhon was about to enter college, and because he was by consensus one of the premier point guards in the country, every coach wanted Duhon to enter his college.
"Coaches would be calling at all times of the night," Duhon said. "You're sleepy, you don't have a social life, your mom's making you stay home and wait for the next caller. It's kind of stressful, but as long as you have fun with it, it's great."
By October, Duhon apparently had enough fun with the recruiting process. On his first official campus visit anywhere, Duhon gave his verbal commitment to Mike Krzyzewski at a Duke team barbecue before a football game against Vanderbilt.
After 17 years in Louisiana, the kid with the beat-up hoop, the big dreams and the
But before Duhon makes his way to campus in June to begin summer classes, there would be another deep run into the state playoffs; there would be more classes; and there would a few anxious moments spent in front of the TV watching his future teammates falter in the waning minutes against Florida.
"[Watching Duke on TV] was kind of hard," Duhon said. "But it was also exciting knowing that next year, I'll be out there with them. But it was hard because I wanted to be with them there at that moment.
"I think I could have given them a little bit of a boost, give someone three or four minutes of rest, so they can come out strong for the last couple of minutes. But it doesn't always work out like that all the time. Next year, that won't happen to us."
And two nights ago in Raleigh, in front of future teammates Jason Williams and Carlos Boozer, Duhon gave those in attendance a glimpse into exactly why that won't happen to Duke next year. Matched up against Seton Hall signee Andre Barrett, Duhon displayed the effortless ballhandling and deft passing abilities that should make for a seamless transition to Duke next season.
Although he often looks out of place at all-star events alongside flashier teammates who are working on their behind-the-back passes or fancy dribbling exhibitions, Duhon showcased his court maturity and a point guard's mentality. Duhon finished with seven assists, but could have easily had five more had teammates not missed point-blank shots.
In a game where everyone trotted out their bells and whistles, Duhon impressed without flair. And it didn't take too long to realize Duhon is indeed different from the other talents on display Monday night.
You see, the Chris Duhon story doesn't include academic struggles or money-hawking agents, it just revolves around a rock-solid mother who found that one perfect gift.
Rusted, dilapidated and tilted, this gift still has Duhon smiling from ear to ear.
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