For Maryland’s Mustaf, the Sky’s the Goal, and the Limit

Foremost among the myriad lessons that Shaar Mustaf imparted to his son Jerrod was to be a well-rounded individual. Even after he grew to 6 feet 10 and it became obvious that basketball could play a pivotal role in his life--thanks to a storied career at suburban Maryland’s DeMatha High and an impressive debut season at Maryland--Shaar Mustaf insisted his son not limit his options.

That’s why, when the Terrapins traveled to Hawaii last December for the Chaminade Christmas Classic, Mustaf’s choice of reading material included “American Prophecy,” a novel on America’s bent toward self-destruction, and “The FBI Plot,” which chronicles the FBI’s surveillance of blacks in the 1950s and ‘60s. And while the other Maryland players cruised Waikiki Beach, studying what one of them called “two-legged biology,” Mustaf reflected on Japan’s economic influence on the islands and what that meant for Hawaii in particular and the United States in general.

That pleases Shaar Mustaf, as much as his son’s ability to discourse on District of Columbia Mayor Barry, the lack of black role models and politics in Prince George’s County, Md. But after watching a nine-game stretch in which Jerrod made just 54 of 117 shots (47 percent), the majority of them from the perimeter, Mustaf pere had just one question: Are you ever going to dunk again?

“Yeah, he’s been on me about that,” Mustaf said Monday after scoring 13 points in Maryland’s 89-80 victory over Virginia Tech. Mustaf hit four of six shots against the Hokies, none from much outside the lane, one a dunk.

It was enough to bring a smile to the face of Coach Gary Williams, who has often wondered this season if there was any room in Mustaf’s multifaceted personality for a power layup or an offensive rebound.

“I think Jerrod might be an individual who has a few different interests,” said Williams. “But the way the economics of professional sports are today, I would think that a lot of my interests would be on basketball. I’d like to see him focused more on that.”

Despite his recent shooting slump, Mustaf still leads Maryland in scoring at 17.4 points per game. And with 7.2 rebounds per game he ranks second to senior forward Tony Massenburg. Already this season he’s exceeded his freshman totals in virtually every offensive category, including single-game highs in points (30), rebounds (15), assists (5) and three-point shots (4).

Mustaf also has played all three front-court positions--sometimes in a single game--but that talent and versatility has only heightened the expectations of those around him. Williams acknowledges the need for Mustaf’s perimeter shooting but wants him to dominate play inside as well. Unrealistic? Perhaps not; Mustaf has had games in which he’s scored on four of four three-point field-goal attempts and others in which he’s grabbed five offensive rebounds.

“He’s not the most aggressive kid I’ve coached but I think he’s still learning how to play the game,” Williams said. “He’s only a sophomore. A lot of times kids who were really big deals in high school have to make an adjustment when they get into college. Jerrod is still doing that. The jump shots are fine for now but next year, when we have (transfer student) Matt Roe and (incoming freshman) John Leahy, he’ll have to play inside more.”

Mustaf admits he’s sensed Williams’s disappointment at times, but says he resigned himself to heightened expectations long ago.

“He probably does expect a lot from me, most people do,” said Mustaf. “But I’ve always expected more of myself than others. It’s not that I’m looking for the perfect game but I just want to use more of my tools than I have so far.

“It’s something that’s going to have to come from within, but when that day comes, watch out--I’ll surprise people with my playing.”

As impressed as observers have been with his play, Mustaf has probably attracted more attention for his outspokenness. Throughout the turmoil that enveloped the team and then-Coach Bob Wade before his forced resignation following the 1988-89 season, Mustaf--only a freshman--emerged as a team spokesman.

Williams has replaced Wade, but Mustaf has continued to speak his mind. There were certainly a lot of jaws dropping in Greensboro, N.C., last November. During a news conference for the then-upcoming ACC-Big East Challenge, Mustaf was asked if he was excited by the concept of the series and if he’d be playing for conference pride in Maryland’s game against Connecticut.

“The people who sit on committees and run the ACC and Big East build these things up because it puts money in their pockets,” he answered. “To me, it’s just another game. I don’t have anything against Connecticut. I could see it if we were getting paid but we’re not. I see guys who never shot a basketball making decisions for me--I feel like a slave.”

Most of those present were stunned, but Massenburg was unable to stifle a giggle. “I get such a kick out of this guy,” Massenburg said. “I love to hear him talk.”

Mustaf admits that he may have made a mistake in speaking out, given the reaction of most of the audience.

“It was probably out of place,” he said. “It can’t do anything to help me to have the brothers out there saying, ‘Amen,’ and the people who could help me along looking at it with a bad taste in their mouths.

“Sometimes I think I take things too far. I’m not in a position to--if I were Michael Jordan I could say what I want and do what I want but I’m not him--but it kills me to have to suck things up. All the time I think I have to watch what I say, watch what I say, or else I’ll be wearing a size 14 in my mouth. My father says you’ve got to know what to say and what not to say and when to say it and when not to.”

There are many lessons that a father can teach a son, but for a time it appeared that Shaar Mustaf would be unable to do much for Jerrod. The father worked in Maryland while the son lived with his mother in North Carolina. But there were visits, frequently with Jerrod making the trip up.

“My father, to me, was my life, my blood and I knew whenever Jerrod would visit that the same bond was there,” the elder Mustaf, a bailiff in Upper Marlboro, Md., said. “We were so close. We’d play ball, talk, read books, hug all the time. I knew he’d be with me someday.”

When Jerrod decided at age 14 to move to Maryland, Shaar Mustaf found himself “overjoyed to put my touch, my stamp on a kid. Maybe he could do the things I couldn’t do. I wanted to be a role model but I didn’t have the opportunity. He does. He can achieve things that I only dreamed about doing.”

But role models, even those whose initial fame comes from dunking a ball through a hoop, should have more than a hint about the world that surrounds them, so Jerrod Mustaf was schooled around the clock. After school he had to be in the house by 7 p.m., then studied for at least two hours. His father covered whatever wasn’t in his textbooks, giving him quizzes on current affairs, world leaders and personalities.

“Every day he’d ask me about something,” Jerrod said. “You had to watch the news, read the papers--sometimes he’d clip articles on things that he thought I should be interested in. It sort of became a contest. I hated to be embarrassed by him asking me something that I didn’t know so I’d start reading more things on my own so I could try to catch him on something.”

There were lessons in sociology as well. Shaar Mustaf told his son to emulate his ability to get along with all types of people. Jerrod did, although his presence and impassive demeanor can come across as aloofness to strangers. That, when combined with his feelings on matters like the black experience, has caused others to regard him as a separatist.

“I know I have to work at how I present myself to people but I’m not a racist,” Mustaf said. “I think I’m a person who’s very race conscious. I don’t think people are used to that, especially from a Division I college player who looks like he should be more ‘stable.’ ”

Stability is important to Mustaf in his quest to be regarded as an all-right guy, particularly by those who may be in a position to help him later. Mustaf can sound calculating at times: After a stellar career at DeMatha High, he was the subject of a national recruiting effort. Given his closeness and loyalty to his father, Maryland seemed an obvious choice.

“I think for kids to stay close to their families is better than all these people and schools buying them off” to go elsewhere, he said. That noble thought was preceded by a more pragmatic one, however--staying in the Washington area would afford Mustaf “a lot of options after I’m finished with basketball. People will recognize the name. You can stay and build something in the area and get respect.”

Mustaf says he doesn’t want to come across as a cynic; perhaps it’s more a case of sensory overload after years spent studying human dynamics. It’s hard to remember that Mustaf recently turned 20; everything about him suggests that he jumped from 13 to 30. His maturity and awareness are a source of pride for his father.

“Basketball is a vehicle,” Shaar Mustaf said. “I want him to be aware, to watch and learn the system. I want him to be aware of the situations around us, to be a certain kind of person. Perhaps he can change some situations; maybe not but at least he can have himself in order.

“I always tell him to be happy. He doesn’t have to be a savior, he can be a laborer. Whatever he does, if he’s happy and is a good person and believes in his family then I’ll be proud of him.”

Right now, Jerrod Mustaf would like nothing better than to hit a finger roll. Complaining of pain since December, Mustaf says atrophied muscles in his right knee (operated on last summer) have curtailed his leaping ability. In virtually all of Maryland’s contests, there’s been a point where the forward has been in position to shoot a conventional layup or perhaps even dunk the basketball but he’s tried to make like George Gervin.

Invariably, though, the shot has missed, causing Williams to wince noticeably on the bench. Mustaf doesn’t mean to cause his coach anguish--certainly he wants to score--but he’s also trying to stretch the perimeters of his game.

“That’s one of the amazing things about the game,” he said. “You can practice (a shot) 10 times and you can’t hit it even if you wanted to, but you get into a game and there it is. I can tell when my game is clicking. It’s like the finger roll, that’s one of those things that you can’t rehearse but when I hit one then I’ll know that I’m really on.”

And perhaps bring a smile to his father’s face.