Is Katella Guard Carlson Too Thin? Fat Chance!

You look at Kevin Carlson and you wonder . . .

Fettuccine alfredo?

Triple-cheese pizza?

Hot fudge sundae, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday?

Somewhere, somehow, there must be a high-calorie concoction ready, willing and able to take hold of Carlson’s 6-foot-5 frame. As it is, the senior guard from Katella High weighs only 134 pounds.

Yes, on Earth.

If the world were a candy store, Carlson would be the stick that holds the caramel apple. Still, he excels on the basketball court.

Last Friday, Carlson scored a game-high 29 points against Western, then 10-0 and the only undefeated boys’ team in the county.

Though Katella lost, 71-54, Carlson was the most impressive player on the court, especially in the first half.

Carlson scored on turnaround jumpers and off-balanced shots. Carlson dished assists and swished three-pointers.

Carlson blocked shots. Carlson stole passes. Carlson dribbled oh-so-gracefully through his giraffe-like legs.

A lightweight was playing the heavy and Western Coach Greg Hoffman was furious.

Fans marveled over Carlson’s deft moves. “He’s so surprising,” a man said, “I mean, for a guy that skinny.” A Katella fan named Pam said Carlson reminded her of Kermit the Frog.

Fortunately, Carlson, a three-year letterman, is a good natured fellow with a good sense of humor. Comes in handy when you have more nicknames than fat cells.

“ ‘Bones,’ ‘Skinny,’ ‘Six o’clock’ . . . “ Carlson said, listing the names. “There’s a lot of them. When I shoot free throws, people like to yell ‘Steroids.’ ”

Carlson laughs, which he does often. He says he doesn’t worry about his weight--”I jump on the scale just to amuse myself”--because his father and grandfather were also skinny at 18 before filling out.

He’s tried drinking protein powder shakes, but he didn’t like the taste. Perhaps he should become a journalist. Gaining weight is easy when your next meal is only a writer’s block away.

“Kevin takes his shirt off and you can see his heart beating,” said his mother, Carol Carlson. “He has no meat. I try to get him to eat more, but he just has a small appetite. He’s not a two-sandwich eater.”

Which is the opposite of 16-year-old Brian (“He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother”) Carlson. Brian, a sophomore forward, is 6-5, 175.

Kevin’s size does not seem to hurt him on the court. His quickness is such that bigger players can’t keep up with him, and smaller players can’t block his shots. But Carlson admits there were a few times when some extra pounds might have helped.

In last year’s Katella Klassic, Carlson was chasing a loose ball and collided with two heavier opponents. A concussion forced him to sit out the tournament.

During a practice last week, a teammate’s knee collided with Carlson, giving him a deep thigh bruise. Carlson wrapped his leg with a bandage for the Western game, but the swelling was so profound, the bump was the size of a small apple.

“It looked like Kevin actually had a muscle in his leg,” Carol Carlson teased.

All jokes aside, Kevin knows being thin helped him fulfill a dream last spring: he won the state high jump championship. Carlson--he’s known as “Stick jumping stick” during the track season--won the title with a leap of seven feet, an Orange County record.

The same high jump bar now hangs seven feet from the floor in the Carlson living room.

Something to point out when conversation becomes thin.