HIGH SCHOOL BASKETBALL ‘92-93 : His Exploits Becoming Legend in More Than His Own Mind

The description of The Shot That Made Fantasia Famous begins with a smile. He made the acrobatic basket when he was a sophomore, but it remains the No. 1 clip on his mental highlight reel.

Ask Fantasia Johnson about it and you’ll see his teeth. His eyes point into nowhere as he tries to cue up the mental instant replay. His arms recreate The Shot with an invisible ball.

“I was turned and this guy bumped me,” the North Hollywood High guard explains, twisting his body on a couch. “I just kind of threw it over my head and it went in off the glass.”

Mort Fields, a Husky assistant, interjects: “You forgot the double-pump. It was a Nureyev-type move.”

The Shot was so good it made Roggin’s Heroes, a nationally syndicated video clip show hosted by KNBC’s Fred Roggin. But it is only the lead item in Johnson’s mental highlight reel. Plenty more where that came from. Flashy is too weak an adjective to describe the 6-foot Johnson, who never met a pass he didn’t want to send behind his back.

When asked whether he concerns himself with showmanship during a game, he shakes his head.

“I’m just worrying about the game,” he says.

Hearing that, Husky Coach Steve Miller chuckles and rolls his eyes. Johnson confesses.

“Once in a while I do get flashy,” he admits.

Says Miller: “He’s like an actor who can’t wait to perform. Like when you watched Magic Johnson, he was not only getting the job done, but putting on a show.”

Miller can accept his Johnson doing the latter, as long as he continues to do the former. Johnson, who averaged 16.1 points, 4.7 assists and 3.0 steals a game for the Huskies last season, begins his senior year as the best player on perhaps the best team in the area.

“He can take over a game with his passing, his scoring or his driving,” Miller says. “He’s very difficult to stop on penetration.”

Back in American Roundball Corp. games when he was in sixth grade, Johnson had a flair for the spectacular. Sometimes, too much.

“He realized at an early age that he had more gifts than most, with his ability and his speed,” says Rich Goldberg, president of ARC. “He likes the attention he gets when he does something exciting on the court, but sometimes you have to make him understand it has to be productive, not just for the sake of doing it.”

Goldberg, who says Johnson is an excellent team basketball player today, has no doubt that entertainment is still somewhere in his mind when he’s on the court.

“He’s still got a little taste for the outrageous, the showmanship,” Goldberg says. “Why else would he change his name to Fantasia?”

Jamaal Johnson--that’s his real name--insists his late grandmother dubbed him Fantasia, and, in her memory, he’s adopted the name. Some, including Johnson’s mother, Lillie, suggest he made the name up, though.

No matter. The name fits. Regardless of whether his priority is fun or fundamentals, he gets the job done.

Miller can accept a no-look pass smacking into a wall now and then. He also deals with Johnson occasionally working himself into such a frenzy that Miller must cool him off with a stint on the bench.

“That’s the package,” Miller says. “If you take away too much, you lose the whole package. You don’t want to lose the package. Just trim off the edges sometimes.”

Johnson’s speed covers up most of his mistakes. If he dribbles through his legs and loses the ball, he can often retrieve it.

“Some people are quick and not fast,” Goldberg says, “and some people are fast and not quick. But he’s both.”

Goldberg says he once saw Johnson take a ball the length of the court for a layup in the four seconds remaining in a quarter.

“The opposing team just watched him,” Goldberg says. “They didn’t think anyone could go the length of the court that fast.”

But Johnson really made a name for himself in July at the Nike All-American Camp at the Indianapolis Hoosier Dome. He stood out among 131 of the nation’s top high school basketball players, although he had trouble at first.

“I never thought it was so hard just to make a layup,” Johnson says. “Seven-footers were smacking my stuff, but I adjusted and everything turned out all right.”

Johnson was impressive with dozens of college coaches in the stands. He says he would like to play college basketball in the East, at Purdue, Alabama or Florida State. He did not commit during the NCAA early signing period, though, probably because of questions about his academics. Johnson took the Scholastic Aptitude Test for the first time a few weeks ago.

“I feel pretty good about it,” he says. “I gave it my all, and I have at least five more chances to take it.”

Fields, a Husky assistant, says Johnson has worked hard to pull up his grades. During the summer, Johnson would bus from his West Los Angeles home to the San Fernando Valley, where Fields’ wife would tutor him.

When Johnson is at home, if he’s not studying, he must be playing basketball at the back-yard hoop his father installed. When indoors, Fantasia is working on his game, too: He put small basketball hoops above most doors in the house.

That must be where he works on those circus shots, like the old spin-around-reverse-double-pump-while-getting-hacked layup. That shot from his sophomore year remains Johnson’s favorite.

Arthur Lee, Johnson’s backcourt mate, had to think for a moment to pick his top Johnson highlight. He’s probably still thinking.

“He’s surprised me quite a few times, making behind-the-back passes and reverse layups,” Lee says. “There are so many great ones. It’s hard to narrow it down to just one.”

In practice, Johnson often plays “tops” against Trevor Shickman, an assistant with the North Hollywood junior varsity team. In “tops,” one player tries some sort of trick shot. If he makes it, the other guy has to make the same one. The way Johnson and Shickman play, each shot is worth one McDonald’s Happy Meal.

“I will have him down two or three,” Shickman says, “but it seems like whenever I leave the gym, I owe him two or three.”

Shickman once showed up to practice toting four Happy Meals, each with a cheeseburger and orange soda, Johnson’s favorites.

Johnson is comfortable with the small wagers because he is--to put it mildly--confident in his abilities. Opponents might say cocky. Johnson admits he talks on the floor, but not as much as he used to.

“When I was a sophomore,” he says, “I was really energetic, talking trash and stuff. But now I’m a senior. I go out and just play.”

Well, sort of. Johnson will probably never just play .

“Every game,” he says, “I want the fans to leave with a little something.”