Never a Dull Moment

Kris Johnson is UCLA’s one-man theatrical performance--four years of good and bad, in victory, in defeat, and more often than he wants to think about, in deep trouble.

More than any other Bruin in decades, the Bruin senior forward has walked the public path from darkness to light, then back and forth again, symbolic of much of what is elevating and most of what is titillating about UCLA basketball.

Will you miss him when he’s gone or simply collapse from exhaustion?

Will you remember him for the blend of courage, talent and arrogance it took to wave off his teammates and gun home the game-winning three-pointer Thursday to beat Washington State?

Maybe he will be remembered for his fateful friendship with Jelani McCoy, which led both to a school suspension and, finally, McCoy into a forced resignation from college basketball.

Possibly, it will be the litany of fights, intimidation and ugly incidents that have dotted, and threatened to dominate, his off-the-court career.

Or will Johnson’s lasting legacy be his passionate, thoughtful commentaries on himself and his team, critical in defeat and uplifting in victory, which have served as the emotional sounding board for the UCLA journey?

He will be remembered, probably most of all, for drawing the spotlight, demanding the spotlight, and being punished and praised for it more than anybody else.

“No question, there’s plenty of times in my career here I’ve made some really stupid mistakes and done some stupid things,” Johnson said recently.

“And just in reflection, when I go home after it’s done, I’m like, ‘Why did I do that? What’s wrong with me? Why am I doing that? Why would I go and just slug this guy or throw the ball off of [former USC player Jaha Wilson’s] face when I was a sophomore? Why do I do stuff like that?’

“Then, I finally got caught on it. . . . I had some problems early this year with fighting incidents--that’s when it just really snapped and I realized I can’t be doing this. Because that’s not me. That’s not the kind of person I am, that’s not the kind of person I was raised to be. I don’t know why I did that kind of stuff. But it wasn’t me.”

This year, finally, Johnson felt a double shot of recrimination.

First, he and McCoy were indefinitely suspended Sept. 29 for violating team and athletic department rules. Johnson sat out the first four games, and has been a model citizen since.

McCoy, his good friend and roommate, sat out the first nine games, and, according to sources, continued to fail school-imposed drug tests even when he came back, and had to quit the team earlier this month.

Then, Johnson faced a Los Angeles city attorney’s office investigation into a Sept. 27 incident in Westwood between Johnson and a UCLA student. Jevon Hatcher claimed that Johnson punched him several times and threatened to shoot him after an argument.

So there he was, suspended from the team and facing the possibility of criminal charges.

“It was kind of overwhelming at first,” Johnson said. “There was a lot of stuff coming at me. I didn’t know where my career was going--it was a scary time. That’s when I realized I didn’t have any more lives. It’s like I’ve had nine lives, and I’ve used them all up.”

Once he was allowed back on the team, Johnson came out roaring, with his shooting touch locked in and his Bruin career in need of a strong finish so he could catch the NBA’s eye after an injury-diluted junior campaign.

He has done that, probably lifting himself into a second-round draft spot with incredibly efficient offensive production--he has made 53.3% of his shots, and 42.2% of his three-point tries.

Johnson scored 15 points in his first game, has scored in double figures in 21 of his 23 games, and averages a team-best 20.3 points in conference games.

“His basketball game is tight right now,” Coach Steve Lavin said. “There’s not a lot of wasted dribbling, not a lot of wasted movement, not a lot of wasted energy.

“At times in Kris’ career in the past, he may have over-dribbled or forced or gotten frustrated. And now he’s found a great balance.”

But the Hatcher incident hung over his head, until Feb. 13, when the city attorney’s office announced it would not proceed with charges if Johnson enrolled in a violence-intervention and alcohol-abuse program beginning in April.

“I was scared, given that they had the option to [file charges],” Johnson said. “I might have to do some time. . . . I mean, just the thought of that is mind-boggling. . . .

“You’ve just got to draw the line somewhere. You’ve got to look into the mirror and say, ‘This is enough. You’re too old for this.’ I kind of got sick of getting into it with people over nothing.

“I don’t want to get into any more trouble; I don’t want to embarrass my family any more than I already have.”

Johnson said he accepted the idea of counseling without rancor.

“I’m going to try to use it to help me,” Johnson said. “I’m going to go to the classes and try to use it to my benefit so I can become a better person down the line.”

Contentious History

Johnson freely admits that his past is filled with violent episodes and dumb pranks. He has gotten into fights during pickup basketball games, fights in nightclubs, and pushing matches during UCLA games.

He has been called for technical fouls, set off Pauley Pavilion fire alarms before practice as a joke, hung out with gang members, and he leads the Bruins in scowls per minute.

“All my life, I pretty much had a problem with my temper,” said Johnson, who is the son of former UCLA and NBA star Marques Johnson. “Even as a kid, I used to always get in stuff, fights, get kicked out of school. I went to like 27 different schools growing up in my lifetime.

“I don’t know why I’m so short-tempered. [But] I think that this year, especially this year, is when I really addressed it and I really did something about it. And I think I’ve made strides as far as my temper and just not losing it.”

Toby Bailey, Johnson’s friend since their high school days, said Johnson’s problems always seemed to stem from his being easily provoked and an inability to see how the brawls would hurt his future.

In fact, Bailey was the unfortunate recipient of a bouncer’s fists when he tried to play peacemaker in the middle of a Johnson-inspired melee after their freshman season.

“You know, he sometimes has a little temper and he goes overboard,” Bailey said. “But this year, he’s really calmed down, I think, after the initial stuff at the beginning of the season. I think he’s matured a lot.

“When you have somebody who does have the incidents that Kris does, it seems like everyone’s always trying to provoke him. He has to turn the other cheek.

“You can pretty much always stay out of situations as long as you swallow your pride and just know that there’s things that are more important than just picking a fight with somebody.

“But he has a lot of pride and he doesn’t back down from anybody and sometimes that hurts him.”

For Johnson’s mother, Sabrina Sheran, the fighting and controversy were all part of an aggressive, willful child whose strength was his desire to succeed. But he was also a son who needed to mature.

So much of Johnson’s basketball success is built on his will and his pride, and surely not on his 6-foot-3 frame that was 260 pounds as a freshman and now is down to about 235. He isn’t a leaper like Bailey or a 6-foot-8 hybrid like J.R. Henderson.

Johnson is a hard-nosed, hard-headed, soft-handed scorer, who enjoys bumping and brawling and knows in his heart he should convert every big play and toss up every big shot, which makes him a winning player but also makes him a police report away from trial.

“Of course as a parent, I was concerned,” Sheran said from her home in Atlanta. “But I felt like he would grow out of it. And I think he has.

“On the court I can see that, yeah, he’s at his best. He’s finally playing at the level of confidence and consistency that I knew he was always able to.

“I think Kris had it all along. I’m not surprised he’s playing at this level now. I just think that he’s matured over the years, and he’s in control of his temper.”

It took the threat of jail time and of missing his senior season to jolt him out of his bubble of privilege as a UCLA star, Johnson says.

“I don’t think I’d be making the same decisions now if it hadn’t been for the suspension,” he said. “I know without it, I probably wouldn’t have been reeled in. I probably wouldn’t have something [that forced him] to just, calm your butt down and chill out and get on the straight and narrow path and don’t go on that other one.”

To Johnson’s great sorrow, however, McCoy, just as stubborn as Johnson, but without Johnson’s confidence, kept getting into trouble.

Perhaps displaying his greater survival skills, after they were suspended, Johnson chose to leave the suite he had shared with McCoy, because, as Johnson says, “we were a lethal combination.”

But Johnson remained McCoy’s closest friend on the team, and Johnson was near tears days after McCoy’s resignation, blaming himself for helping lead McCoy into it.

This week, Johnson said he had reacted emotionally, and that his friends--including McCoy--have told him that he can’t carry McCoy’s troubles as his own.

“I still keep in contact with Jelani,” Johnson said. “I mean, it’s not like a thing where I’m sitting at home, like, ‘I just ruined this kid’s career.’ I can’t carry the weight of that with me. I have to put that behind me.

“It was personal with me, just thinking about it, just taking responsibility for my actions. Jelani saw what was in the paper [when Johnson blamed himself]. He couldn’t believe it, that I was really tripping on it. He was like, ‘Man, we’ve both made mistakes.’ ”

Johnson does blame himself for the team’s current state of dysfunction. When Cameron Dollar graduated last season, UCLA needed a commanding leader, and Johnson seemed like the natural replacement--Ed O’Bannon even predicted that years ago.

“I definitely felt that coming into this year I wanted to step up and be the vocal leader of this team,” Johnson said. “And by getting suspended, it’s hard for me to get onto somebody’s butt after getting suspended. . . . You don’t feel right doing it.

“I kind of let Toby do it. Or J.R. I was kind of reserved, because I was thinking to myself, ‘What kind of example am I? What kind of leader am I? How am I going to get on these guys and they’ve just given their all to this program without messing up and I messed up? How am I going to yell at them?’

“That’s how Cameron Dollar was last year. He would not hesitate to tell Toby something, to get on Toby’s butt. Or to get on Charles or J.R. or on my butt. With Dollar, it didn’t matter. It was, ‘Hell, if you don’t like me, just don’t like me. I don’t care. Just play.’

“I think I could’ve been that guy this year, if I wouldn’t have gotten into trouble. But these last few games I’m going to put all of that behind me and do what I’ve got to do. Just so I’ll feel proud of myself.”