For four years, he captivated Kansas fans with bulldog drives and high-arcing three-pointers. He wore his emotions on his sleeve and pumped his chest after big moments.
On Senior Night, he buried his head in coach Bill Self’s chest and cried in front of 16,300 people.
Plus, he holds the most wins in Kansas basketball history — a statement that by now certainly gives away the subject of this column.
When Sherron Collins’ name went uncalled during last week’s NBA Draft, two thoughts crossed my mind.
My immediate reaction dealt almost solely with basketball. If Collins wants to stick in the NBA, he needs to model his game after another former Kansas guard, Jacque Vaughn.
Vaughn, a dynamic passer, had little in common with Collins in terms of their style of play. Collins was a ferocious offensive attacker; Vaughn was a classical passing point guard and distributor.
Yet Vaughn, who is 6-foot-1, played 776 games for five teams during his NBA career. He never averaged more than 6.6 points, never averaged more than 23 minutes per game and never averaged more than 5.3 field goal attempts per game.
But Vaughn played 12 seasons at basketball’s highest level, and he finished his career with an NBA championship courtesy of his time with the San Antonio Spurs.
The point is, Vaughn made himself into a role player in the NBA — a transition certainly easier for a pass-first guard.
But if Collins wants any type of NBA career, he too must transition his game and develop into a more traditional point guard. He must improve his passing and sell teams on the idea that he can help them with small energy spurts off the bench.
The second thought that crossed my mind, though, dealt less with anything on the basketball court, and instead focused on Collins as a person.
When sitting in during Collins’ press conference before Senior Night against Kansas State on March 3, the diminutive guard with a big heart consistently talked about the changes he had made in his life while in Lawrence.
He talked about the rough situation he encountered back home in Chicago, and he credited Self and the Lawrence community with allowing him to grow as a person.
Every major local news outlet ran a story relating to the theme, and at the time it was an incredible feel-good story. But the story wasn’t complete yet.
Collins leaves Kansas after four years and now his true story begins. If Collins doesn’t make it with an NBA team, how will he respond? Will he responsibly support his two kids? Will he avoid off-court temptations?
And if he does sign with a professional team, whether in the NBA or overseas, will he answer those same questions in a positive manner?
During his time at Kansas, I always found it amazing that so many people pulled for Sherron Collins, the little man with a gigantic will to win. There was something inspiring about his story and about the way he played basketball. Fans wanted to see him succeed.
He made mistakes both on and off the court, sure, but he always seemed to bounce back. That’s normally the true test of character.
Here’s to hoping Collins continues down that path in his life after Kansas.