Wake-up call for Williams

It didn't really hit him until he had been in the program for a couple of days. When the early morning alarm rattled him awake, Sean Williams yawned, stretched, and looked across at his roommate.

''He was a junkie," Williams said. ''Some 19-year-old kid. He was trying, I guess, but he was kind of milking the situation. He said he had been clean for a year and a half, but had been in the program two years. I'm thinking to myself, 'Hey, you know, that math doesn't work.'

''I don't even remember his name. I just looked at him and thought, 'What am I doing here? I don't belong with these people. This is not the road I want to be on.' "

He had no one but himself to blame. Sean Williams landed in former NBA star John Lucas's drug rehabilitation program in Houston because he was irresponsible and immature. He was a scholarship athlete at Boston College, a budding basketball star for the Eagles, but he couldn't be bothered to adhere to their rules. He abused his privileges, abused his body. He paid little attention to his studies, and was perpetually in jeopardy of losing his place on the team. He averaged 4.1 points and 3.5 rebounds and set a BC season record with 63 blocks as a freshman last season, but neither his coaches nor his teammates felt they could count on him.

''I was wild," said Williams, almost wistfully. ''No one had a better freshman year than I did. Nobody could have possibly had as much fun as me."

Lucas, a recovering drug addict who has made it his life's work to help troubled people, many of them high-profile sports figures, saw Williams coming and advised his staff to dig in and hold on.

''I always thought I was the biggest con there was when it came to my addiction," Lucas said. ''But Sean Williams had me beat."

Williams was articulate, intelligent, charming. He was a dazzling raw talent. There was a world of potential wrapped around his 6-foot-10-inch, 230-pound frame, some of which will be on display tonight when BC plays in the quarterfinals of the Atlantic Coast Conference tournament in Greensboro, NC.

But he had already been suspended by coach Al Skinner twice for ''conduct detrimental to the team" when he was arrested last May 20 on campus for marijuana possession and underage drinking.

''They told me they were going to send me to the jailhouse if I couldn't find someone to post bail," he said. ''I was sitting there thinking, 'Man, I wonder what they're going to do to me.' I figured I was going to miss some time with the basketball team. And that's what I felt the worst about. What I had done to my teammates."

It was former BC big man Nate Doornekamp who rustled up the $40 to bail him out. Williams was about to celebrate being sprung when he noted the disappointment etched onto the face of Doornekamp, a guy he considered a good friend. But that was nothing compared to the shame he felt when he slinked home to Houston to face his mother.

''He saw the hurt and disappointment in my face when he got off that plane," said Audrey Garrett. ''He promised me, 'Mom, I won't ever make you feel that way again.' "

At his July 8 sentencing, Williams was ordered by the court to undergo drug counseling and was also barred from the BC campus for at least a semester. He didn't understand that. He wasn't a drug addict. So he smoked a little weed once in a while. What's the big deal?

Skinner was relieved to hear Williams would enter Lucas's program and stay there for the summer while attending classes at the downtown campus of the University of Houston. Lucas had helped Skinner's old friend, Marvin Barnes, battle his demons, which included cocaine abuse. Williams's problems were limited to marijuana, which caused many around him to dismiss his situation as ''minor."

''In our society, [marijuana abuse] is not considered a drug problem," Skinner said. ''If you're doing the hard stuff, then people think you've got a problem. But to get counseling for what Sean did? It was difficult."

Williams enrolled in Lucas's program with the idea of putting in his time, then moving on. In his first few days, he avoided eye contact with the broken, addicted people around him. He was nothing like them. He did not have financial difficulties. He had two parents who loved him and had provided for him. He possessed a skill -- playing basketball, and, specifically, blocking shots -- that enabled him to attend one of the finest colleges in the nation. He was bright, despite what his GPA suggested. He didn't fit the profile, understand? He was light-years away from the junkie in the bed next to him. How could anyone possibly think they had anything in common?

''We had a lot of discussions about that," Lucas said. ''The biggest thing about this disease is when it comes to fooling friends, or family, or teammates, that's easy, because we're fooling ourselves about our problems, every day.

''The hardest thing to accept is that you are as bad as the worst alcoholic or drug addict you see -- you just haven't gotten there yet. That's the challenge. To beat the con out of these kids."

It started with a regimented schedule that did not deviate. Wake up at 7. Meetings at 8. Time off for lunch and basketball workouts. Writing assignments to promote self-expression. More meetings. Group discussions about taking responsibility. Individual sessions on coping. Self-evaluations that were often painful, emotional, and revealing.

''It was a wonderful learning experience," Williams said. ''He [Lucas] really helped me. He kept telling me, 'It's OK. You're not the first one to go through this.' "

After one month, Williams was free to go. He knew better, and stayed 90 days.

''It was hard," he acknowledged. ''I spent a lot of time saying, 'I can't believe I'm here. I hate this.' "

There were perks to his new friendship with Lucas. Sometimes, after the meetings and the sessions and the written work, Lucas would drive Williams to a gym in Houston where a number of the NBA players who lived there during the offseason met to play pickup. On any given night, Williams found himself playing against Antonio McDyess, Michael Stewart, and Chris Wilcox.

''What Sean discovered was athletically, he was better than a lot of the pros," Lucas said, ''but fundamentally, he was getting beat. He didn't know how to play the game.

''It's like being 18 and 19 years old, and trying to be a man. He wasn't ready. I think it helped him grow up some."

Sometimes, it was up to Williams to meet Lucas and the pros at the gym. Even if he was just a minute late, which he was on more than one occasion, Lucas locked the door.

''I explained to him, 'Son, you can't afford to be late,' " Lucas said.

Audrey Garrett spoke with Lucas several times a week. She was impressed with his candor about his own past and his formula for helping her son face the future.

''What John instilled in Sean was the need to discipline himself," Garrett said. ''Quite frankly, Sean had to want that more than me or his coach or the other players wanted it for him.

''He needed to realize not everyone has the opportunity he was given. He had to see what he was throwing away. And for what? Some weed? All the talking in the world wasn't going to help him until he saw it for himself."

When fall rolled around, and his teammates meandered back to BC's Chestnut Hill campus, Williams remained enrolled at the University of Houston, taking courses and awaiting word of his fate. He was reinstated by BC Dec. 22.

On Feb. 8, during a road game against Wake Forest, as Williams was about to shoot free throws, a group of students began chanting, ''Just say no!"

''He called me up and said, 'Mom, they got me,' " Garrett said. ''But he was laughing when he told me. He also said he hit both free throws. I'm proud of him. He's gone back to face it. All of it. He's facing it head-on and saying, 'C'mon baby, let's dance.' "

His offensive averages are modest -- 3 points and 3.1 rebounds a night -- but his monster blocks can alter the tenor of a game. On Feb. 25, in a double overtime win over North Carolina State, he rejected eight shots, including two in overtime. It was a stunning performance, another hint of what could be, and yet, his teammates are still reserving judgment on his future.

''When you are talking potential, Sean has as much as anyone in the ACC," said BC forward Jared Dudley. ''But he's got to put it together. His work ethic could be better. He's got to stay out of trouble. He's got to commit to us, on and off the court. We're not going to follow him around. He's got to be accountable."

Williams swears he has changed. He says he is early for film sessions. He says he is committed to his academics. He says he doesn't stay up all night partying anymore.

''I used to be out all the time," Williams said. ''I was never in my room. That's not true now."

''Nobody succeeds in life until you get a little life on you," Lucas said. ''Now Sean has a little life on him. Let's see what happens. I've already told Al that I'm not worried about right now, while he's playing.

''It's when the season is over, and that focus is gone. Those are the days, when he's saying, 'I've got nothing to go to but my life,' that we have to watch. Sean still has a lot of growing to do."

That is true both on and off the court. Williams still needs to develop a consistent post-up move. His passing skills are suspect. His rebounding numbers are unimpressive, but Skinner says that's because he contests every single shot.

Williams is itching for more playing time, but he understands he is in no position to be asking for it.

''Coach Skinner gives us certain roles," Williams said. ''I can't wait until my role changes."

There are certain things that won't change. Sean Williams will be randomly drug-tested -- often -- for the rest of his time at The Heights. He is also out of chances. One more slipup of any kind, and he's gone.

''I'm cool with that," Williams said. ''I have goals for the future. I want to establish a legacy here, like Craig Smith has. I can't let the other stuff get hold of me. I've got no room to gamble."

He is still immature at times, still quick to anger when things don't go his way. But he's trying. He's trying to remember everything John Lucas tells him in their monthly conversations.

''It used to be the way Sean saw himself and the way others saw him was very different," Skinner said. ''He just never got that. I'd like to think he's got it now."

His mother says his stay at Lucas's program was the worst -- and the best -- thing that has ever happened to him.

Sean Williams agrees. The alarm clock has rattled him awake. Now it's up to him to make sure he doesn't ever get up and see a 19-year-old addict staring back at him in the mirror.