This Guy’s Story Has a Magic Ring

I can’t wait to see who drafts Ervin Johnson Jr.

Some NBA team is about to get itself one heck of a player with one heck of a name. Ervin Johnson is very tall, very skinny and very sweet, has all the right moves and can move people to tears by simply telling them the story of his life, a story that he did tell to some of college basketball’s top coaches last April during the Final Four until, as one eyewitness put it: “There wasn’t a dry eye in the house.”

The name’s Ervin, without the a . No relation to the far more famous Earvin (Magic) Johnson Jr., he is a 6-foot-11 center from the University of New Orleans who is projected to be a first-round choice in the NBA draft one week from today, probably toward the end of the round.

Think it sounds wild--another Ervin Johnson in the NBA?

Get this:

Ervin spent Tuesday in Boston, auditioning for the talent scouts there.

Try that on for size.

Ervin Johnson, Boston Celtic.

“Anything’s possible in this life,” he says. “After what’s already happened to me and what God’s already done for me, nothing could surprise me now.

“But sometimes I do think I must be dreaming all this up.”

A Baptist preacher’s son who already is 25--five years older than, for example, fellow Louisianan Shaquille O’Neal, who has a full NBA season under his belt--Johnson went by his mother’s maiden name and called himself Ervin Curry until his high school graduation. After that, he spent 2 1/2 years stocking groceries at a corner A&P; in Baton Rouge before he suddenly took stock of his life and took up basketball, having grown like a sunflower, almost overnight.

Not having played one minute of high school ball, he became a record-breaking collegian as well as the namesake of one of the game’s greatest players.

Tim Floyd, his coach at New Orleans, says of Johnson: “When he showed up, he didn’t know what a chest pass or a pivot foot was. He was brutal. His namesake is Magic? In our coaching meetings, we called him Tragic.

“But he worked harder and more seriously than anyone I’ve ever been around. That’s why he is where he is today.”

Curious, I called Jerry West, the general manager of the Lakers and someone known for his ability to star-search and spot talent, to ask what he knew of this new Ervin Johnson.

“He’s interesting,” West said. “Here’s a kid who started his career sort of late. But when you watch him, the first thing you see is this tremendous enthusiasm that he has. He’s a nice kid. He grows on you.

“And, obviously he’s a nice story, with that name of his.”

I also got in touch with that other Earvin Johnson Jr. to ask what he thought of Ervin Johnson Jr.

“I like his name a lot,” Magic said.

And, as a player?

“A lot of ability,” Magic allowed. “But he’s really, really skinny.”

In case anybody’s wondering, the Lakers choose 12th in next week’s draft, but are not looking at Ervin Johnson as a serious candidate that high. If by some chance he’s still available (extremely unlikely) on the 37th pick, hey, who knows?

The Clippers pick 13th and 53rd, and if they ever longed to advertise the second coming of Earvin Johnson, here’s their big chance.

Boston goes 19th.

“All I care about is getting to the NBA,” says Ervin Without the A. “I haven’t let anything stop me so far and I won’t let anyone tell me I can’t make it.”

Is he another Magic? No way. Their games are totally dissimilar.

For New Orleans, Ervin broke school records for rebounds and blocked shots. He was a four-year starter. He had 55 double-doubles, points and rebounds, including five games of 20-20. A unanimous choice as Sun Belt Conference player of the year, he led the team to a record of 26-4--in the conference, 18-0--and a final Associated Press national ranking of 17th. In New Orleans’ first-round NCAA tournament loss to Xavier, Johnson had 21 points, 10 rebounds and six blocks.

And then came the National Assn. of Basketball Coaches’ all-star game, played in Ervin’s home arena on the Sunday between Final Four games. Johnson had 16 points, 14 rebounds and was voted MVP.

But that’s not all he did.

At a banquet, he rose to tell his story. Deeply religious, he thanked God for bestowing blessings upon him. He explained how he entered college with a third-grade reading level and overcame that. He told about his redshirt freshman year and how his coach, Floyd, became so exasperated with his failings in the gym that he arranged a transfer for Johnson to Southern Mississippi.

Ervin nearly broke down crying. He said, “Coach, you promised you’d hang with me for five years!” The look on his face alone made Floyd feel so guilty, he gave the kid another chance.

Johnson concluded by saying: “Once again, God laid his hand on my heart.”

By then, according to university sports publicist Ed Cassiere, “These rough, tough coaches were sitting there, dabbing at their eyes. I’m telling you, seriously, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house.”

This marked the end of a collegiate career that began at 9:30 p.m. on the last night of 1988 that coaches could sign recruits to letters of intent. Floyd was in his first season as New Orleans’ coach. He had no player taller than 6-5. He was sitting in his office phoning players when in walked this gangly kid, 6-11, who said: “Coach, I’d like to play for you.”

Floyd smiled at someone’s idea of a practical joke. The coach had been known to pull such stunts himself.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Ervin Johnson Jr.” the kid said.

Now he knew it was a scam. He played along.

“Where’d you play high school ball?”

“I didn’t.”

Floyd thought it was hilarious. He looked out the window to catch whichever prankster had put the kid up to this. Until suddenly, this Ervin Johnson mentioned that he had “grown some” in the 2 1/2 years since graduation.

“How much?”

“Eight inches.”

And he sounded so sincere. The coach offered him a seat. They talked. Then, because NCAA rules forbade a workout, he asked Johnson to go outside, run to his car, then run back. Ervin did. The coach took him back inside and offered a scholarship.

“Come back tomorrow,” Floyd said.

“Coach, I can’t.”

Now, what? wondered the coach.

“Coach, I’ve been working at the A&P; store 2 1/2 years, and they’ve been good to me,” Ervin said. “I owe them at least two weeks’ notice.”

It was at this moment that a college basketball coach realized that the next best thing to the genuine Earvin Johnson might be having the genuine Ervin Johnson.

I believe some lucky pro coach could come to the same realization in the days ahead.