The Cavalier Daily
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Remembering a special type of Virginia athlete

A little over three years ago, I took my first on-location assignment for this newspaper as a sports writer. It was a baseball game; I remember that much. Against who? I don't know. Who won? I don't remember that either, but judging by the team's success that year, I'm probably better off guessing it wasn't Virginia.

I do remember that I felt like a kid entering a new fifth grade class halfway through the year. It was intimidating as all hell. I didn't know where to go or who to talk to once I got there. I was terrified that I might ask some fourth-year athlete a question and get as a response a blank stare, or, even worse, a Bobby-Knight-style expletive and rampage.

Thankfully, my editor gave a great piece of advice: "Look for the ones who smile."

He was right.

Not all University athletes smile. I've had some walk right by me because they wanted to go shower, or mock me because they didn't like a question. Hey, that was their right. They're at U.Va. to play sports, not deal with pesky journalists.

Which is why it's so refreshing when an athlete or coach walks into an interview with a handshake and a smile and answers questions with more than a "we played well today." It makes my job easy. It makes the coverage better.

It also makes me gain confidence in the University as a whole. This place is supposed to create well-rounded men and women, people who can have an in-depth conversation, nice people. Sometimes, after a rude encounter, I think athletes are exempt from that.

But, when I meet someone like Mary Frances Scott, I realize that most aren't. Scott, a volleyball player who graduated in 2000, was a player you had to meet, not just see. She was the top setter in U.Va. history and took the program with almost no winning history to the NCAA tournament two times in a row. She was also one of the most gracious, understanding and - yes - even wacky athletes I've ever met. I think she's either diving after sharks in the Pacific Ocean now or teaching high school biology. Now, that's well-rounded for you.

Before long, I was covering football, and quickly I figured out that the guy to talk to on Virginia, up until two years ago, was Byron Thweatt, a public relations spokesman masquerading as an all-conference linebacker. Thweatt's energy in the interview room was contagious; it was no wonder he was such a leader on the field. He praised his teammates left and right, delivered proclamations on why Virginia would win the following game and made everybody optimistic about the team's fortunes. He's got a good future as a motivational speaker someday, once he's done playing for the NFL's Tennessee Titans.

Kyle Martino of the men's soccer team talked more as a freshman in 2000, the year I covered the team, than any first year I've ever interviewed, and the talk wasn't just sports-gab. He explained soccer strategy in a way I had never heard a coach attempt. He talked about dorm life and about why it was so easy for him to make the adjustment from high school soccer to the top level of college soccer.

You know why he could do it? Because he was mature enough - as I could easily understand from our conversations - to realize what he had to do as a big-time player.

Then, there's Roger Mason Jr. He turned the Virginia men's basketball program around, with a little help, of course, and was a driving layup away from really being a revered athlete in this town. He deserves to be revered anyway. After a half-decade of dealing with problem-players and athletes who could care less about their school and the people around then, Mason was a godsend for the program. Here was a man, not a man-child, who was articulate, friendly and humble. We should all wish him luck in the NBA, if only to show that nice guys really can win.

Or maybe to show that to be a good athlete, all you need is talent. To be a legend, one that people remember, it takes more. It takes a smile.

(Sam Le can be reached at sle@cavalierdaily.com.)

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