Center Oliver Miller Is a Large Reason Why Arkansas Has Been So High on the Hogs

Eggs. Oliver Miller can do without ever seeing eggs again. As part of a college all-star team that toured Paraguay and Argentina this summer, the portly Arkansas center quickly learned that fame isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

He expected an unforgettable experience and he got it: Long, seemingly endless overnight bus rides. Tire blowouts at 2 a.m. Gyms so hot that you could have baked biscuits. And then, of course, the mind-numbing daily menus.

“You know, I could never get him to say anything about the food,” said his mother, Annie.

Instead, the conversations would go as such:

“What’d you have for breakfast?”

“Eggs.”

“What’d you have for lunch?”

“Eggs.”

“And dinner?”

“Eggs.”

So it was no surprise that when Miller arrived home, the first thing he did after leaving customs was to begin singing, “God Bless America.”

Miller isn’t the best collegiate center in the country, but he probably belongs on any short list. Arkansas Coach Nolan Richardson, honest to a fault, said no other center has better hands or can pass as well. He will get no argument from No. 1-ranked UNLV, which was victimized time and time again by Miller’s pinpoint throws two weeks ago at the Razorbacks’ Barnhill Arena. The Runnin’ Rebels won the game, but they won’t soon forget Mr. Miller, who burned them for 22 points, 14 rebounds, six assists and six blocked shots.

Afterward, an exhausted Miller, his uniform soaked in sweat, ice packs wrapped around each knee, could be found slumped in the Arkansas training room. He had lost, but in a way, he had gained, too. Richardson called it a breakthrough game for Miller. “Without Oliver in the game down the stretch, we don’t have no kind of chance,” he said. “Next year, he may be one of those millionaires everyone is talking about.”

Teammates marveled. Annie Miller just shook her head knowingly.

“Something just happens the higher the competition,” she said. “It’s always been that way.”

Of course, her son could have cared less about the postgame proclamations.

“I went to bed at 8,” he said.

Now then, if you were to assemble the perfect center, Miller wouldn’t be the first place you’d look for parts. He is 6-feet-9. He weighs at least 285, which explains his nicknames: “The Big O” and our personal favorite, Oliver (the Real Meal) Miller. He has the upper body of the Pillsbury Dough Boy. He is foul-prone and rarely plays 28 minutes or more.

And then you watch him in a game.

He rarely misses from six feet in, reason enough for his gaudy 70.6% field-goal percentage (third in the nation). He averages 14.7 points, 7.6 rebounds and 3.5 blocks (sixth nationally). His long arms allow him to play bigger than 6-9. And that generous torso of his doesn’t easily budge.

If anything, Miller, a junior, isn’t dominant enough. He arrived at Arkansas with a reputation as a defensive specialist. Then he dazzled everyone with his passing ability.

“But he would never look for the basket,” guard Lee Mayberry said. “He would always try to make the spectacular passes.”

According to Richardson, Miller can throw a football “70 yards on a sparrow.” A flick of the wrists, and Miller can zip a basketball the length of the court. And at last, Miller is beginning to understand that it’s OK to score; his two-year apprenticeship is up.

“Oliver should know that,” Mayberry said. “All he’s got to do is post up and most of the time it’s money in the bank.”

Miller wasn’t supposed to be at Arkansas. Had everything gone as planned, Miller wanted to go straight from Southwest High School in Ft. Worth, where his mother teaches geometry and coaches the girls’ basketball and volleyball teams, to Washington State or Washington.

“He has this fantastic idea of getting far away from home, getting away from momma’s rule,” Annie Miller said.

The idea lasted about as long as it took an earthquake to rattle parts of California one day. Miller saw the report on the news and decided then and there that the West Coast wasn’t for him. (Memo to Washington State and Washington recruiters: See, it wasn’t your fault.)

Miller eventually narrowed his choices to Oklahoma and Arkansas. He visited the Norman campus and then traveled to Fayetteville later in the week. Before he did so, said Annie Miller, a member of the Oklahoma coaching staff called and informed her that Oliver had selected the Sooners. The coach (Annie Miller won’t say which one) even called a newspaper in Arkansas and made a similar announcement.

Yes, well, so much for the power of the press. Miller met Richardson and signed shortly thereafter.

Richardson is fond and sometimes confounded by his star center. He said he remembers when Miller, a freshman at the time, broke his thumb in preseason and was unable to practice. In most cases, a player is allowed to simply watch the workout.

“So I looked around and asked one of the coaches, ‘Where’s O?”’ Richardson said. “Well, Oliver ran laps almost the entire practice. I’ve never seen someone 6-9, 250 pounds (at the time) do that on his own. No one told the kid to do anything.”

Says Oliver: “I wanted to be in shape for my first game in college.”

However, there are other times when Richardson would like to see a smarter, more controlled Miller. Too many times this season, Miller has committed unnecessary fouls and then found himself confined to the bench. He also suffers from inconsistent play.

For instance, Richardson said he hoped that Miller would use the UNLV game as a starting point for bigger and better performances.

It didn’t happen, at least, not at first. Miller scored 13 points against Texas Tech, followed by a dismal eight-point showing against TCU. But against SMU in the next game, he responded with a more Miller-esque 21 points and eight rebounds.

The explanation for the tale of two Millers?

“I set myself up for a lot of stupid fouls,” Miller admitted.

The new and improving Miller said he is working on it.

Also under repair is Miller’s diet, which can be considerable at times. Pizza binges aren’t uncommon. Salad bars are. His favorite meal includes smoked brisket smothered in barbecue sauce, potato salad and other assorted side dishes.

“He was easy to please,” Annie Miller said.

Perhaps too easy, said Richardson.

“The only thing Oliver has to do in order to be a big-time millionaire is to control his weight,” he said. “We got to keep an eye on him.”

Easier said than done. NCAA rules prohibit Richardson and his staff from monitoring Miller during the off-season. And Mayberry said Miller is a victim of his own talent and size.

“During the off-season, Oliver can’t go to the (on-campus gym) and have some fun,” Mayberry said. “There’s no one that big. So a lot of times he’ll go eat.”

If there’s a fat joke, Miller has heard it. In fact, there hasn’t been a road game yet where Miller hasn’t been heckled about his physique.

“Doesn’t bother me at all,” he said. “I smile at them.”

Few things truly annoy Miller. Losses bother him, but they don’t devastate him. Then again, Arkansas has lost only twice this season and only seven times in the last 56 games.

Granted, he would have been happier had Arkansas officials allowed him to wear his high school jersey number--32. But then someone explained to him that former Arkansas All-American Sidney Moncrief sort of owned the number forever.

Miller historians, mainly his mom, can think of only one recent instance when the Big O’s temper flared slightly. It happened several weeks ago, shortly before UNLV arrived in town for the much-ballyhooed game between No. 1 and No. 2. As part of some pregame story package, one of the local newspapers asked Annie Miller if she would send a few baby pictures of her son.

Sure enough, Oliver opened up his sports section one day and discovered a cute little photo of him in a baseball uniform. Worse yet was a snapshot from his days in kindergarten.

Thoroughly embarrassed, Miller called his mother.

“Mom,” he said, “that was really cold.”

Hey, Oliver, it could have been worse. She could have sent eggs.