PITTSBURGH — A man who has nothing must build, and with that realization, the man with nothing accepted a full-time construction project.

Slowly, nothing turned into a stack of basketball talent that walled him from the troubles of an inner-city ghetto. Nothing turned into a family, which is no easy task when your dad lives six states away, and your mom can’t give up drugs but can somehow give up on you. Nothing turned into adulation and highlights and sold-out arenas, and an uninspired basketball program became a sacrosanct institution.

Nothing turned into Julius Page.

So this is Page now, built by years of decisions and good fortune and ability: He’s a basketball player for Pittsburgh, a high-hopping junior guard, a man narrowly removed from his childhood in Buffalo’s brutal East side. Page is the leading scorer on the third-ranked team in America, and when that team welcomes Syracuse on Saturday for a noon game at a decibel-packed Petersen Events Center, forgive Page if he holds his breath for a second and looks around. Just as easily, he knows, all this could have been nothing

A future

Page would not have made it this far had he stuck to football, and a reminder of that fact just walked through the door. Before a light shoot-around Friday, this reminder, adorned in a posh velvet sweatsuit, intruded casually on the practice, stepped behind Page and tapped him on the behind.

“This guy,” Panthers star wide receiver Larry Fitzgerald said with a nod. “This guy is good.”

“If I had stayed with football,” Page seconded, tossing a glance to Fitzgerald, “I wouldn’t have been nothing like this guy. He is something different right here. I guess I got lucky and chose the right sport.”

Not until 10th grade did Page decide on basketball. After all, he figured, the Turner-Carroll junior varsity team had a lot of guys who could be wiry wideouts. It didn’t have many guys who could reverse dunk.

With a college scholarship in mind, Page abandoned football and tirelessly refined his basketball skills, with the help of high school coach Fajri Ansari.

“That’s when I started playing basketball more seriously,” Page said.

Good thing, too, because that’s just about the time that colleges took Page more seriously. By his senior year, Page had already led his 121-student private school to two state championships. In a city title game during his senior season, Page raindropped a last-second 3-pointer that sent Turner-Carroll into overtime and, eventually, toward a 58-54 victory.

The Buffalo News named Page its player of the year. Not bad for a player who, two years earlier, was just trying to see time as a football special-teamer.

“Since I’ve known Julius, he’s done nothing but get better,” Ansari said. “Some players peak out in high school, some players never fulfill their potential, but that won’t be Julius. He likes challenges, and he’ll work hard.”

A family

Page’s parents named their child after the legendary basketball player Julius Erving, but Gary Flakes never saw his son take a basketball shot until two weeks ago. Only now that Page has come this far does he hope for the chance to build a relationship with his father.

Just before New Year’s, Flakes, who lives in Atlanta, ventured an hour north to watch his 20-year-old, 6-foot-3 son’s team play Georgia. It was the first time Page had seen his father in 15 years.

“Anybody who comes from a broken home has to feel some strong emotion about it,” Ansari said, “but Julius is not angry, and he deserves credit for keeping himself together. He’s not above forgiveness.”

Even those closest to Page never expect more than a few words from him when conversation turns to his family. For all that he’s absorbed — abandonment from his father, separation from his drug-addicted mother, Selina — the soft-spoken Page only reserves a few words: “It was really tough, man.”

While Page starred in high school, he lived with his grandmother. Flakes hit the road when Page was 5, and Selina had to give Page up around the same time. During Page’s youth, he lost several friends every year to the streets.

“The East side? It’s a place you don’t want to be,” Page said.

Now, he’s no longer there. His mother has recovered from her addiction. He says he’s cool with his father, who played small-time college ball in the early 1970s.

There’s just one more thing, really, because Flakes still hasn’t seen his son make a shot. Against Georgia, Page missed every one he took. Pittsburgh lost its only game of the season, and Page finished with two points — both on free throws. Next to nothing.

Still, it was something to build on.

A team

There’s a navy blue adidas headband, much like the one Page wears every game, sitting in plastic wrap on a desk in the Panther athletics offices. Every game, one such headband is tossed into the stands, where Pitt students are exceedingly happy to claw for it.

“It’s all because of Julius,” media relations staffer Greg Hotchkiss said. “He started all of this.”

Page’s headband has become a trademark, his dunking has become an 11 p.m. highlight staple, his team — once a laughingstock — has become the best in the Big East. After Turner-Carroll, Page signed on at Pitt, figuring if he could bring his own life this far, could it be any tougher to do the same with a basketball program?

Before Page, the Panthers had a losing record in 1999-00. His freshman year, they fell into the NIT. But last year, they smoked through the conference and finished with a 29-6 record and a NCAA Tournament Sweet 16 appearance.

This year? How about a team that returned all of its starters and inaugurated a new, 12,500-seat arena that’s sold out every game.

“It feels good to build something here,” Page said. “A lot of guys from Buffalo, guys like Damone Brown and Malik Campbell, had gone to Syracuse. But I didn’t want to be a follower. I wanted to start something new.”

He’s had help, most notably fellow star guard Brandin Knight and fourth-year coach Ben Howland. Page, though, leads the balanced scoring attack (five players average double-digits points), with 12.1 points per contest. And most importantly, he never takes a bad shot.

“Well, wait. No, he took one bad shot,” Howland said, pointing to the baseline. “Against Ohio State, kind of a turnaround right over there.”

Howland knows he’s got no right to complain. The turnaround, that’s Page’s best move. And he can make it out of nothing.

Published on January 15, 2003 at 12:00 pm