Syracuse-bound stars found bond through basketball

	Having endured some rough times, including a short stint in jail, Niagara Falls' Paul Harris is now one of America's top prep players. AP

By Mike Waters, Special to SI.com

Johnny Flynn remembers the first time he saw Paul Harris on a basketball court. Harris stood out among the other nine players with his broad shoulders and bulging biceps. He dominated the action with his physical style.

He was 11 years old.

"We were playing in this biddy-ball league in Niagara Falls,'' Flynn recalled. "He played for the YMCA and I played for the Niagara Falls Housing Authority. He was already filled out. He had these long arms and big hands and huge shoulders. And he's like 11. I was like, 'Oh, my God!' He was just killing us.''

Around that same time, Harris would notice Flynn. But not on the basketball court. Flynn lived on Garden Avenue in Niagara Falls, right next door to Harris' grandmother. When Harris and his cousin would play hoops in the driveway or baseball in the street, he'd spot Flynn, who was two years younger than Harris, hanging out nearby.

"He was just this quiet little kid,'' Harris said. "But I knew he could play.''

Life would take Harris and Flynn on separate paths over the next few years, only to bring them back together at a critical time in both their lives. They would end up at the same high school, become bonded by basketball and ultimately take a big step together.

Last summer, Harris and Flynn committed to Syracuse on the same day. When Orange assistant Mike Hopkins called Flynn's AAU coach to offer a scholarship to Flynn, an underrated 6-foot point guard, Harris, a 6-foot-5 swingman and one of the top seniors in the nation, was in the same hotel room. "I just screamed, 'Yeah, yeah, I'm coming,''' Flynn said. "And Paul said, 'I'm coming, too.'''

Growing Pains

Flynn, the son of a minister, has excelled in the classroom as much as he has on the hardwood. Talented but small and slender, he never had major expectations placed on him, even though he usually played an age group up in youth ball. Harris, on the other hand, oozed talent.

"He was always way above every other kid,'' said Jeff Bishop, who organizes the Delaware Youth Center in Buffalo and coaches Harris' AAU team, the GC Ballers. "Then he hit a growth spurt at 14. He got stronger and taller.''

But the streets of Niagara Falls tugged at Harris, whose parents -- Paul Sr. and Emma McCall -- split up when he was young. Harris was raised by his mother and spent some time with his grandmother but has maintained a close relationship with his father. "We're not New York or Philly, but we have our bad guys here,'' said Sal Constantino, an assistant coach at Niagara Falls High. "You get nervous, especially in the inner city, because it's the dregs of society trying to leech onto these kids.''

Harris started running with the wrong crowd and made some bad decisions. As a high school freshman, he stopped going to school. Bishop saw less and less of the kid with the bright basketball future. The same person who had spent entire summers with Bishop, playing ball at Delaware Park or School 68, was gone.

"We didn't see Paul for like a year,'' Bishop said. "He didn't come to Buffalo. I heard that he was getting into trouble.''

In 2003, at age 16, Harris spent 13 days in the Niagara County Jail after being charged with possession of cocaine. Niagara police had found him in a car with a drug dealer, who was a friend of Harris' from the neighborhood. Harris refused to roll over on his buddy, honoring the code of the street. So he sat in jail and thought about his life and future.

"I said, This ain't me,'' Harris said. "I knew I couldn't mess up anymore.''

At Harris' hearing, Constantino, who also worked in the city's Police Athletic League, spoke on Harris' behalf. Harris wasn't convicted but did get youthful-offender status, which is similar to probation. Since Harris fulfilled all the judge's requirements, the incident didn't go on his permanent record.

"For me it was personal. I've known Paul since he was 9,'' Constantino said. "I used to work at the Y and Paul was one of the Y kids. Paul was a kid we had to throw out of the Y every night. He'd hide somewhere and then try to go play ball in the gym.

"I really feel like he had a good heart,'' Constantino continued. "I never thought he'd be this good of a basketball player, but deep down, I always thought he had the ability to be a good person.''