Dancing in place: Maurice Creek at the NCAA Tournament

It was his turn.

Under a veil of darkness, spotlights darted across Branch McCracken Court, where smoke enveloped a familiar figure in red warm-ups.

A recording of announcer Gus Johnson came through the loud speakers.

“A junior from Oxon Hill, Md., No. 3, MOOOOOO CREEEEEEK”

Maurice Creek took a breath, lifted his crutches and made the “walk” toward center court at Hoosier Hysteria 2011, flanked on either side by IU cheerleaders.

The reported crowd of 16,100 roared as Johnson’s signature voice gave way to the Jay-Z song “Who Gon’ Stop Me.”

I can’t stop ... stop ... stop ...

Creek has never played a full season in his IU career. Injury forced him to sit out this year, as the Hoosiers made an unexpected run into the NCAA Tournament. But he persists, trying to contribute in any way he can, while working to make his return.

Who gonna stop me, huh?

Reaching the point where some of his teammates tried to show off their dance moves, Creek planted his healthy right leg and rhythmically swayed in place — perhaps an attempt to not seem too out of place.

Throughout it all, the junior IU guard had a playful smile plastered on his face below black, square-framed glasses.

That night, Creek made sure the crutches were the only evidence of his struggle.

Bloomington, Oct. 12, 2011
Not again.

Creek’s freshman year, it was a broken left patella (knee cap) against Bryant 12 games in that sidelined him for the rest of the season.

Sophomore year, a stress fracture (small crack) in his right patella forced Creek to sit out IU’s 14 remaining contests.

And now, at a press conference, Creek and IU Coach Tom Crean sat behind microphones to announce that the broken — then repaired — guard had again had his season ended.

This time, a torn Achilles tendon in his left leg was the culprit. This time, he wouldn’t even get to don a jersey for the season opener.

It marked his third major injury in 22 months.

“It’s God’s will,” Creek said that day. “He’s given me strength every day. (My teammates) give me strength every day to fight this adversity. They are going to stick by me 100 percent, and I am going to be with them 100 percent. At the end of the day, this is my family. God is part of my family. My family is part of my family. Hoosier Nation is part of my family. That is who is giving me the strength to get through these adversities.”

Creek was one of the highlights of Crean’s 2009 recruiting class, a four-star guard out of Hargrave Military Academy in Virginia — his fourth institution in a five-year high-school career (he took a prep year at Hargrave).

In Bloomington, Creek quickly became one of the highlights of the Hoosiers’ offense, averaging 16.4 points through 12 games, including a 31-point performance against No. 4 Kentucky.

But following his injury freshman year, Creek would never be the same.

The 6-foot-5-inch guard’s point average was cut in half during his sophomore campaign, as Creek’s field goal percentage dropped 14 percent.

With 1:43 left in IU’s game against Michigan on Jan. 15, 2011, in Bloomington, then-freshman guard Victor Oladipo found Creek for a layup to put the Hoosiers up 71-57.

He hasn’t recorded a point since.

Portland, Ore., March 14, 2012
Creek ran to the foul line, caught a pass and hoisted a jumper.

Miss.

The rehabbing guard with toothpick legs got back in line and ran to the charity stripe at the Rose-Garden Arena in Portland, Ore.

Off the mark again.

The Hoosiers had an open practice the day before their first NCAA Tournament game, a matchup against New Mexico State.

And there he was. Clad in a red penny draped over his gray T-shirt, Creek participated in team drills for the first time known to the media. It was the same name and face that impressed Kentucky Coach John Calipari two seasons ago, but the man had changed. His will and passion were still there, but his body — the vehicle by which he fulfills his dreams — had not returned to what it once was.

In the next drill, Creek shot from beyond the arc, where he hit 44.8 percent of his shots freshman year. He cocked his head to the side, as if to try to will the ball into the hoop, but it clanked off the rim, and Creek longingly looked as the ball bounced away.

He jogged back, got a high-five from Oladipo and mouthed, “Damn.”

Creek has been working tirelessly.

Fans and reporters might not be there to see it, but Creek makes the commitment every day to make his return. At 11:24 p.m. March 5, he tweeted a picture of a machine display that tracks shots made and attempted. That night, the screen read 409 shots taken and 369 shots made — 90 percent.

“By the way,” he tweeted two minutes later. “(Those were) all threes.”

It’s all working toward what Creek hopes will be a reemergence next season.

“I’m actually getting stronger everyday,” he said. “Just taking it one step at a time, not trying to rush anything and be ready for next year.”

But what is he looking forward to the most?

“Just being Maurice Creek again.”

Bloomington, March 11, 2012
The day had finally arrived.

It had been inevitable for a couple months now that the Hoosiers would be going to the NCAA Tournament. This day, in the Henke Hall of Champions within Memorial Stadium’s North End Zone, the dream would become a reality.

Creek sat with freshman guard Remy Abell to his left and sophomore forward Jeff Howard to his right.

Those at the private watch party waited with the rest of Hoosier Nation across the globe as jittery feet danced and eyeballs darted across a projection screen set to CBS.

After waiting for four long years, the Hoosiers heard their name after just six teams were announced.

With a pair of bad knees and a torn Achilles tendon, Creek sprung up with the rest of his team in celebration.

“I knew we could reach this point,” Creek said that Sunday in March. “Everybody just had to envision that this would be the year, this is the year, that we prove to everybody that we are that team. Why not us?”

It was bittersweet. The Hoosiers were going to the NCAA Tournament after a remarkable turnaround season, but Creek, as he had all year, would merely be watching.

“To be honest, I still can’t believe it,” Creek said of going to the Big Dance. “Time just flew past, and it’s crazy that we can see our name on our screen and say, ‘Dang, we’re really going to the Dance.’ A big smile came over my face, and I can’t wait to go to Portland.”

Portland, Ore., March 17, 2012
Oladipo was struggling — badly.

The sophomore guard was falling victim to VCU’s trademark HAVOC defense in the Hoosiers’ second game of the NCAA Tournament.

Time after time, Oladipo fell back into the same mistakes that plagued him freshman year, when he averaged a turnover every 13 minutes.

He, along with the rest of the IU backcourt, were continually losing control of the ball, accumulating 22 turnovers by game’s end. But it was Oladipo who stuck out enough to cause a veteran sportswriter to dub him “The Human Turnover.”

The Upper Marlboro, Md., native had committed five turnovers, and there were still about 12 minutes of game time left.

Oladipo needed guidance.

He looked in the direction of the Indiana bench, but it wasn’t the assistant coaches he was seeking. Rather, Oladipo looked to the teacher — the brother — who was sitting directly behind the IU coaches, in the second row of the Hoosiers’ fan section.

There, among a sea of team members’ family, friends and assorted fans was Creek.

“It was pretty hard (to sit there), but they knew where to find me,” Creek said. “When they needed guidance, they looked up to where I was and I told them what I could from up there. That’s just what a teammate is all about. We help them out from every angle that we can, and that’s what I did.”

Due to NCAA regulations regarding how many players a team may have on its bench, guards Taylor Wayer, Raphael Smith and Creek had to sit in the stands.

“I can remember when Vic lost the ball one time and he looked up at me, and I just told him to cuff (control) the ball,” Creek said following IU’s 63-61 victory against VCU. “As he started cuffing the ball, he got to the rim very easily, and nobody took it away from him. He got to the rim on the last play and got fouled, and if you look at the replay, it shows him cuffing the ball.”

Oladipo did not commit another turnover following the 11:40 mark of the second half. With 46 seconds to go in the game and IU down 61-60, the speedy 6-foot-5-inch guard sliced into the lane, put up a contested layup, got fouled and made the and-one free throw to tie the game.

One Will Sheehey midrange jumper later, the Hoosiers were headed to their first Sweet 16 in a decade.

Atlanta, March 23, 2012
“LET’S GO!” Creek shouted.

Calipari needed a timeout. A layup from junior forward Christian Watford with 3:58 left in the first half put the Hoosiers up two for their first lead of this Sweet 16 matchup since the 17:23 mark.

Creek had never been farther from the Hoosiers than this. His designated spot was in the IU cheering section located across from the Kentucky bench.

“Why don’t you go with two hands? Two hands, Tom!” he said as senior forward Tom Pritchard missed a one-handed slam with 2:11 left in the first half.

Creek was still watching, still coaching, but a part of him had to realize that even his best efforts could only do so much to help the Hoosiers and Oladipo, that fellow Marylander whom he had helped recruit.

With 10:26 left in the game, Creek buried his face in his hand as Oladipo picked up his fourth foul. The starting guard had scored all of his 15 points by then, and just like that, about six minutes later, Oladipo fouled out.

Creek slammed his hands on the black guardrail in front of him, stood up and began to walk away. He could hardly stand to watch Oladipo walk to a seat on the sidelines, a spot Creek has become all too familiar with during the past three years.

“It’s pretty hard,” Creek said of watching Oladipo get in foul trouble. “I know it was even harder for him, and it’s crazy how first you’re playing and then, the next thing you know, you’re on the bench sitting and watching.”

Creek reached the second step of the stairs to exit the bleachers when Smith stopped him, and Creek buried his head in his shoulder.

With Oladipo out of the game, Kentucky increased its lead. Creek watched helplessly. He stood for much of the remainder of the contest, holding out hope for another comeback, but with 45 seconds left, Wildcat freshman center Anthony Davis hit a pair of free throws to put UK up 100-88.

Creek threw his IU jacket to the ground, collapsed into his chair and dropped his head, resting his spread arms on his knees.

The final horn sounded, and Creek stood motionless, staring at the IU bench.

The hypotheticals were endless.

What if Oladipo hadn’t picked up that fifth foul? What if he, Creek, hadn’t torn his Achilles and had been able to be on that floor?

Fans began gathering their things and heading toward the exits. An entranced Creek kept staring straight  ahead until Wayer tapped him on the shoulder.

He began making his way to join his teammates in the locker room.

Perhaps next year would be different.

***

“Why are you writing a story on Maurice Creek?” a fellow student journalist covering IU hoops at a competing news outlet asked me in Atlanta. “He might not even play next season.”

It was a valid question.

After all, America champions winners. History doesn’t remember injured athletes who never had the opportunity to peak.

But Creek’s story — one which is far from finished — deserves to be told. In him, I see internal strength and a drive that can send him wherever he wants to go in life, on or off the hardwood.

As I spoke with Creek more and more throughout the NCAA Tournament, I began to see him everywhere I went.

A mother stepping onto a public train in Portland. With plain, old clothes, she pushed her handicapped son’s motorized chair up the train’s ramp. He couldn’t have been more than 9 years old.

A bathroom attendant in the Charlotte, N.C., airport. An elderly black man with kind eyes who spends his day in the men’s restroom, sweeping the floor and greeting every patron. A tip jar filled with $1 bills and a smattering of loose change is the fruit of a hard day’s work.

These are individuals who persist and make the best of the hands they’re dealt despite hardships that they can’t control.

“As we said so many times to him, his mother said to him. ‘God doesn’t give you anything that you can’t handle.’ And I think Maurice is living proof of that,” Crean said.

I can’t stop.

“He’s never going to stop until he reaches his dream,” Oladipo said. “I know Mo, and I know his mentality. I know he wishes everyday he was playing, and I wish everyday he was playing, too. He’s been through so much, and he deserves everything.”

Who’s gonna stop me, huh?

“I feel like that song makes me stronger every day, and it’s the epitome of what I stand for,” Creek said. “No injury is going to stop me from playing this game, and no injury is going to keep me back from my career. I’m making sure everybody, from the trainers to the players to the coaches, know that these three injuries aren’t going to make my career.”

­— azaleon@indiana.edu