Alex Symonds and Stefan Jellicoe, members of The Daily Illini On-air staff, both headed to Ubben Hall on Oct. 18 for the men’s basketball walk-on tryouts. Here’s their first-hand accounts of their experiences trying to become the next Illini.

Alex Symonds, On-air sports director

“We want Chris! We want Chris!”

When the Orange Krush chants this at Illini basketball games, most of the 16,000-plus know what the situation is. The Orange and Blue have a big lead late in the game, and the students want to see one of their own – senior walk-on Chris Hicks – take the floor and score some points in garbage time.

I wanted to be the next Chris Hicks. Yes, wanted. I dreamt of the Orange Krush and other Illini faithful screaming my name during a beatdown of Kentucky Wesleyan while I trotted to the scorer’s table to chat with Jim Sheppard, check in and log some minutes.

I wanted this until I walked into the Ubben Basketball Facility on Oct. 18 with my completed physical, i-card and Air Jordans in hand. This was the site of the Illini basketball walk-on tryouts and my shoes were tight, my adrenaline was pumping and the butterflies in my stomach were fluttering.

First came the layup line and pull-up jumpers, and with them came uncomfortable left-handed layups and Nike basketballs bouncing awkwardly off the glass.

Next came the full-court drills. Crisp passes actually started appearing from my hands, and I started to feel good about myself during the three-man break and weave drills.

But then came the full-court three-on-three and all my hopes were deflated as quickly as they had been built up. After a three-minute segment, I felt like I had just ran for three hours. The continuous back-and-forth action of a game meant to be played on a half court made me start to loathe Bruce Weber and never want to see his face again.

And then came five-on-five. My sweat-soaked headband made me realize full well that I am now glad not to play college athletics. And all this in what Weber said is a “pre-practice routine.”

But the nostalgia of being on the same practice court as Deron Williams and Dee Brown made me feel good inside, even with pain and despair on the outside.

Stefan Jellicoe, On-air sports reporter

Before I can even begin to tell the story of my attempt to walk on to a Division I basketball team, I must make one thing perfectly clear: I have never played competitive basketball at any level.

I do not even get rotation minutes on my intramural team. So, naturally, when Alex asked me to do this I immediately jumped at the chance. I have always loved basketball and have played countless pickup games, but the trouble is, I’m not any good.

Remember back in kindergarten when instead of math or science you would be graded on things like “motor skill development?” Let’s just say that it was not my strong suit. This crippling lack of hand-eye coordination is a big setback on the basketball court where it limits me to basically setting screens and playing defense.

Luckily, all these walk-on tryouts required were an i-card and a passed physical, so I was afforded the honor of wasting Bruce Weber’s time evaluating my talents.

Things at Ubben got under way on a great note as I missed my first 20 or so shots in warm-ups. I blame it on being star-struck from shooting around right next to Frank Williams. I got another alarming reminder of how out of place I was when in layup lines all the other players about my size started dunking. Jay Price told us before the drill to “dunk if you can,” which are words to live by if you ask me.

I would explain the drills that the coaches had us do after the layup lines, but apparently everyone on earth knows how to do them but me. I guess this “three-man weave” is popular in basketball circles, but I had never done it before. After fumbling most of the passes, running into other players, and frequently going the wrong way and screwing everything up, at last Coach Weber just let us scrimmage.

I was completely out of my league in the scrimmage, but at least I could set screens, play defense and stay out of the way. I even banked in a hideous three-pointer right in Alex’s eye!

In the end Bruce thanked us all for coming, and when I explained to him who I was, I told him, “I’m a much better reporter than a basketball player. I promise.”

Editor’s note: Alex and Stefan most definitely did not make the team.