My Opinion
Even before NBA stardom, Grant Hill gave classmate a thrill

It seems ironic, really, that nothing is written by Grant Hill's name in his senior high school yearbook.

There he is, wedged between Dane Hill (Class of 90. We may not know each other personally, yet we all grew up together. Take care of yourselves.) and Shayna Hirsch (Swim Team 9-10; Key Club 10-12 . . . J.A.-I will never forget you! Brian-you will always be in my heart.).

It's appropriate, really, that his name stands alone, as if he really needed any cute messages with cute misspellings ("Thanx for the memories! Luv U!") or any pretentious list of honors.

If he did, they would read something simple, like co-captain and All-American of the boy's basketball team. And all-around nice guy. On page 78, Hill sits beside Kathy Lawrence. The two were voted most athletic. Shocker, huh?

And there I am, just 54 pages over, in the sophomore section. At 6-foot-5, I probably should have been alongside Hill on the team. But the truth is, I'm not that coordinated on the basketball court.

I had the good fortune of seeing Hill play during his junior and senior years in high school. Both years, the South Lakes Seahawks won the district and regional titles but fell in the Virginia State AAA semifinals to the same team -- the Hampton Crabbers. Yes, the Crabbers.

Everyone knew good things were in store for Hill. And then came his successful years at Duke. Now, his talents are on display in Detroit. But it all started in Reston, Va. And the further he goes, the stranger it feels.

I didn't know him well, but neither did all of the others who would say hello to him when he walked through the halls or the orange cafeteria (yes, our high school color coordinated the four classes).

One of my best friends told me about a mutual acquaintance of ours who goes to another school. That mutual friend had a picture of Hill posted on her dorm wall and apparently bragged of him to her friends, trying to uphold the image that they were best buddies.

But she didn't know him any better than I did. It's pathetic, really. Almost as pathetic as my feeble attempt to impress my co-workers when I tell them, "Grant Hill? He went to my high school." But then, all 2,000-plus students who went to South Lakes at the same time probably utter the same thing.

But you didn't need to know him to exchange pleasantries -- how many people stop Ki-Jana to say hello? Yes, Hill was -- and most assuredly still is -- that nice, that down to earth as he now appears on TV. And that's what makes it so weird.

There he is on the cover of Sports Illustrated.

There he is selling Nikes and GMC Trucks between breaks on Melrose Place.

There he is earning the most votes for the NBA All-Star game, the first rookie to lead the ballots.

There he is winning an ESPY.

There he is going one-one-one with Letterman on the Late Show, doing a good job of keeping Dave on his toes. Twice. In just a matter of months, his popularity has soared even higher.

Hill was Letterman's last guest when he was on last December (you know, those guests who get about 90 seconds of air time, their last response cut off in mid-sentence as the credits start rolling). But on Monday, he was the second guest (how he ranks behind Fran Drescher -- the Nanny, for heaven's sake -- I'll never know).

Moving up on Letterman -- now that's a true sign of success.

And we can only wonder what the future may hold -- NBA records, awards and a spot on the 1996 Olympic basketball team in Atlanta, maybe.

It's scary, Hill said, when dreams come true. It's just as scary, though, when it happens to someone in your high school yearbook.