The eyes seem to find him, no matter where he is. They are not cruel. They are friendly. Like they've peered through his family album. Like they saw him take his first steps.

There are times when the eyes astound him. Times when John Amaechi, a center on the men's basketball team, is walking to class or to the gym, and he will simply shake his head in disbelief.

The driver of the Campus Loop sees him and gives a friendly wave. The random faces emerge from a crowd of shuffling students and wish him well. People just know him.

They cannot help it. There is something about a 6-foot-10 Englishman that seems to attract attention. And there is something about that gentle face and rough goatee that simply exudes amiability. Wave to him, and he will wave back.

"They don't have this awe kind of feeling, like I'm somebody special or anything," Amaechi said. "I'm just John."

At first, the soft accent does not fit with the sound of bouncing basketballs and the pungent smell of sweat. The melodic British cadence doesn't seem to serve the sport of trash talking and inner-city playgrounds.

More like Masterpiece Theatre.

Certainly, there is a side of John Amaechi that would fit right into a smoking jacket and well-stocked pipe. The introvert. The Private John.

But what of the other side, the side that draws the attention the eyes -- of an entire campus? The side that seems to befriend people he has never seen?

That is the Public John.

And so it is that a basketball player has become the big man on Joe Paterno's campus.

He is a loner. He loves to sit in his room by himself and listen to music for hours on end. All sorts of music, from Howard Jones to hip-hop.

"John's a strange individual," teammate Nate Althouse said.

This is the Private John Amaechi. The John that, most of the time, seems as distant as his home in the suburbs of Manchester, England.

This is the John that still dreams of the other side of the Atlantic. Dreams of the countryside. Of fish and chips and double-decker buses and everything British.

He dreams of his mother, Wendy Amaechi, who battles a deadly disease while her son lives out his dreams across the ocean.

"She's been very instrumental in everything that I've done," John said. "Everything."

A heavy smoker for most of her life, Wendy Amaechi is stricken with lung cancer. John talks to her almost every night.

"She's not any worse," John said, "which is good."

The halls of Recreation Building are home to the gentle giant. He wanders the tiled walkways with a king-sized cup of coffee -- "That's an essential part" -- and he will sit and chat with anyone, from coach to secretary.

He is there all afternoon, practicing with his team. Then he returns after practice, when the gym rats are running the floor in shirts and skins. And he waits his turn to play some pick-up ball with Joe Student.

"To me, this is the place to be," Amaechi said, casting an affectionate eye toward the scuffed floor of the building's main gym. "It's what I do to relax, as well as get better."

And he has improved. Amaechi is averaging 16.5 points and 8.8 rebounds this year, and his strong presence and improving moves in the lane have given opposing coaches fits.

This is the Public John Amaechi.

The John that basketball has nurtured.

"I can walk around here and people want to say, 'Hi,' " he said.

Especially the children. The children love him. He is twice their size, but he never talks down to them -- he is a friend. Amaechi, a psychology major with a 3.33 grade point average, is active in the Big Brother Program of Centre County and is a volunteer with The Second Mile.

"Just being a part of the basketball team wouldn't have made his college career complete," said Terri Dennis, Amaechi's supervisor at the Big Brother program. "His athletic ability is just one part of John. He's very community-minded."

And his community has become mindful of him. That is why the eyes seem to find him. That is why this town seems to love him.

"He goes out of his way to make people feel good," Althouse said. "He's a true gentleman."