JEANNETTE -- Take Route 30 westbound from State College through thick fog and steady rain for 120 miles. Stop half an hour outside Pittsburgh.

Welcome to Jeannette. Population: 10,095 -- plus one phenom.

That phenom is also the town's favorite son and quarterback, but soon he will be someone else's.

At 6-foot-6 and 235-pounds, Terrelle Pryor is the nation's most sought-after football recruit, and with scholarship offers from Michigan, Ohio State, Oregon, Florida and Penn State on the table, both of the young man's cell phones ring constantly.

Coaches have sat down with him, including Joe Paterno. He has visited Ann Arbor, Mich. Ohio State recruits have made the trip to Jeannette to watch him play basketball -- all attempts to coax the high school senior.

But what will he do? Who will he chose?

Robert Murphy, Jeannette's athletic director, says he gets calls from reporters all over the nation who want to talk to Terrelle. The approach doesn't matter. It has worn the kid out. He's sick of answering questions.

He doesn't know where he's going. He'll decide next week, he says.

Tonight, Terrelle Pryor just wants to play basketball.

Do You Know Pryor?

Park Classic Diner sits on top of a hill, about three miles from Jeannette Senior High School. Raindrops hiss as they smack against pink and blue neon lights that line the roof of the '50s-themed joint.

Behind large swinging doors, framed pictures of the Jayhawks' championship football teams decorate the inside walls and greet patrons.

In this year's portrait, Terrelle Pryor is in the front row, sitting down with both fingers raised. He and his teammates are grinning ear to ear.

A young waitress, Antoinette, pours a cup of coffee at the bar. She's a senior at Jeannette.

Does she know Terrelle? Is she friends with him?

Stupid question. She giggles and glances at another waitress.

"I don't know know him," she says. "But everyone knows Terrelle."

As quickly as Antoinette moves back toward the kitchen, a man seated at a booth opposite the bar leans over and chimes in: "You wanna find Terrelle?" he asks, almost whispering. "Head down to Pitzer's. That's where he usually hangs out."

He looks back across the table at the woman he is with and raises his eyebrows.

"You know Joe's comin' tomorrow?" he says.

The woman doubts a visit from Paterno will matter.

"I heard on Channel 4 that he has his decision narrowed down to two."

Wolverines or Buckeyes? She nods.

The two continue to chat before the woman gets a call on her cell phone.

Terrelle isn't at Pitzer's. He's in the locker room preparing for his second-to-last home basketball game. Tip-off is in 20 minutes.

First Impressions

The parking lot at the school is overflowing. Cars and trucks line the steep entrance to the school lot and have made deep mud tracks in the grass.

Wet sneakers squeak across the tile floor as more and more people get in line at the ticket box. Fans dressed in red, white and blue Jayhawks attire gather in the lobby. Old friends, classmates, families with little kids.

"That's the helmet he wore in San Antonio," a man with a hot dog says between bites.

He's pointing at a black football helmet in a glass enclosure in the center of the lobby. The helmet Terrelle wore in the Army All-American Bowl doesn't have a single scratch on it. Terrelle was the Most Valuable Player in that game.

The ticket collector is busy in front of the door to the gym. The few seats that remain are filling up fast.

Senior Night

Homemade banners with names of all senior players and cheerleaders line the walls on both sides of the court. A sign at the far end of the gym proudly proclaims "You're in da bird cage!" Next to it, more championship banners.

A large man with a long graying beard walks into the gym slowly. He's wearing a Jeannette athletic suit, walking at the tail end of the line.

The man, Vince Diverso, has been a midget football coach at Jeannette for 30 years. He coached Terrelle when he was in middle school.

"Terrelle came up through the midget program and he was a phenomenal athlete down there," Diverso says. "Like they say now, he was a man among boys at that age."

He looks across the gym; the J.V. game just ended. Two men are carrying a big balloon archway out to half court.

"You know what, he's put Jeannette on the map," Diverso says, as an announcer is starting to call each senior out. "That's all you hear is 'Terrelle, Terrelle.' There won't be another one like him in a long time."

The audio system in the gym is lousy, not a single name is audible, until it's Pryor's turn. When he's identified as the leading scorer in Jeannette basketball history, the capacity crowd shakes the building. Most stand for the player who has to duck as he walks under the balloon archway.

A Sanctuary

Somehow, the only seat left in the gym is a good one. It's behind the scorer's table, four rows up in front of Shawn and Sheri Binda. Both are lifelong residents of Jeannette. Shawn speaks through a brown mustache that transforms into a gray goatee down his chin.

"I never miss a Jeannette game," he says.

He says Jeannette's opponent tonight, Apollo-Ridge, isn't very good. Pryor should have a big night.

Pryor gets up off the bench and walks onto the court, ready for the start. He seems to stand a head taller than the next tallest guy.

He's smiling as he nods up toward the crowd. He says something to a teammate, who starts to laugh.

The referee is in position, holding the ball high. Right before the jump, Shawn's eyes light up as Pryor slaps his hands together 15 feet away. Shawn leans down.

"This is his sanctuary," he says in a serious tone. "No one can bother him here. This game will be fun for them. You'll see him laughing a lot."

The Phenom

Just seconds in, Pryor gets the game's first points when he effortlessly tips in a rebound.

Shawn warns Pryor's athleticism can be deceptive.

"You'll see," he says. "One time I thought he wasn't hustling. I was getting mad at him. But he was catching guys."

Moments later, Pryor catches Apollo's point guard napping. He steals the ball at halfcourt. Jayhawks fans know what's next. They're used to it.

"Here he goes!" Shawn shouts.

Pryor lifts off and slam-dunks with furious ease. His classmates that make up the small student section in the corner get the best look at the dunk. They scream the loudest.

A minute later, Pryor outdoes himself. He steals the ball again, but this time he has defenders in front of him. He whips the ball around his back and crosses over in one motion, splitting the Apollo defenders. He finishes with a dunk more vicious than the first.

The Apollo players stare at each other, flabbergasted. They look terrified when called to inbound the ball.

"It's so easy," Shawn says, grinning.

The Tale of the Jersey

Sheri Binda had Terrelle as a student in her geometry and statistics classes. She describes him as one of her more respectful students.

Binda's son was a senior when Terrelle was a freshman. When her son graduated and it came time for Terrelle to pick a new jersey number, he wanted 34, the number his friend wore the year before, but only if Sheri said it was OK.

Binda leans over her husband:

"I said, 'Terrelle it's not my son's jersey [anymore]. You can wear whatever jersey you want to wear,' " Binda says.

"He said, 'But it would mean a lot to him if it was OK with [you].' "

Terrelle wore 34 that year.

A Role Model

It's halftime, and people in the bleachers can't stop telling Terrelle Pryor stories.

Another teacher soon joins the fray. It's Doug Lawson, who was Terrelle's science teacher. Lawson is also the faculty advisor for the student council. He remembers the day that Terrelle Pryor was like Michael Jordan.

Terrelle participated in You've Got a Friend Day in the fall. A day when handicapped and special needs students from multiple school districts can take part in sports activities.

Many of these students, especially the sports fans, were drawn to Terrelle and the way they interacted was special, Lawson said.

"He was like a star to these kids," Lawson says. "Most of them were the same age, 17 to 20."

Pryor comes out of the game with 5:21 left to play. He finishes with 22 points in the 77-33 Jeannette win. As he heads to the bench, he gets another standing ovation.

Postgame

As soon as Jeannette players come out of the locker room, everyone waits for him. And when that white jersey with the "1" on the front shows up in the doorway, everyone gravitates toward Terrelle Pryor.

He hugs family members, his mother and godmother, and tries to talk with friends, but it's hard. Everyone wants a piece of Terrelle tonight. He is always visible in the mob, he's a head taller than everyone.

Kids that barely come up to his knees are tugging at him, wanting an autograph. He obliges as many as he can. He signs newspapers, basketballs, programs and poses for pictures. He only smiles when he's posing for the pictures.

Gone are the joyous grins he had when dunking in front of the Jeannette faithful. Now he's the star recruit just trying to keep up.

When he finally gets some breathing room, and the gymnasium has nearly cleared, he looks down and reflects on his senior night.

"It's a special night," he says. "After four years -- it's your last year. I just wanted to have a good game, that's all."

The Final Decision

A scout from Oregon who is in attendance serves as a constant reminder. Pryor is wanted. He is needed and the hopes of thousands will be dashed on Feb. 6 when he makes his decision.

But none of those dashed will be from Jeannette. Even the many Penn State and Pittsburgh alumni.

The Bindas said Penn State would be nice because it's so close, but Shawn says it really doesn't matter.

"Wherever he goes, we're making plans to visit him," he says.

Perhaps Lawson said it best at halftime:

"These people will follow him wherever he goes. They love Jeannette sports, but they love Jeannette kids."

After so many spectacular performances in front of crowds who adore him, Pryor is humble, but comical.

He knows Jeannette residents are waiting and hanging on every word just as much as Michigan, Ohio State, Penn State and all the other schools and their fans.

Does he think his community will support him no matter what?

"Uh, I guarantee they will," he says, but then adds, half-jokingly, "But I don't know for a fact."