His kind of town

Thursday, Jan. 9, 2003 | 10:05 a.m.

UNLV reserve forward Omari Pearson will almost taste the Italian beef hot dogs from Portillo's and his favorite thin-crust pizza all the way to Chicago today.

The thought of the spaghetti that his grandmother, Betty Wilson, will prepare for him, though, will tease him the most.

"With the big meatballs," Pearson said. "Can't wait."

A native of Maywood, Ill., about 10 minutes west of Chicago, Pearson has waited for this trip, and Saturday's game against DePaul, for three years. At last count, his list of friends and family who want to attend the game had reached 84.

If he were rich, as some are led to believe by the black Cadillac Escalade EXT he steers around Las Vegas, he could accommodate everyone. Instead, only a fortunate six or eight will be able to slip into Allstate Arena under his name on the Rebels' pass list.

"It's a very big thing," Pearson said. "I haven't had a chance to have a game in Chicago since I've been here, so my family has been looking forward to it since I got to college. Being 1,800 miles away, it's a very big deal to see my grandmother, aunties and so forth."

The 6-foot-8 junior has never known his father, and he said he doesn't expect any bouts of sadness, due to the memories of his late mother and grandfather, to bog him down during his return home.

He prefers to concentrate on a bright future in which he plans to be a lawyer. Can't go forward, he said, if you live in the past. He tends to focus on good thoughts, like an immediate family of more than 100, in Chicago and Georgia, that takes care of him.

Pearson said they provided him with the Escalade, the means to a comfortable lifestyle, and invaluable love and support.

"It's hard to explain," he said. "A way to explain a lot of it is pure blessing. And my grandmother always has time for me, when I'm going through my little depression or missing my mom."

Wilson raised Pearson, 22, with her husband Roosevelt. Pearson's mother, Chevela Pearson, succumbed to pneumonia when Omari was six years old.

Betty Wilson has always shown her grandson a huge heart. "Mary Poppins," he calls her. Roosevelt, who died nine years ago, was just plain hard. Omari drew a parallel to the movie "The Great Santini," in which Robert DuVall's character constantly challenged a son to prep him for a tough world.

An epic scene pitted the two against each other on a basketball court, in the rain and at night, with a lamp on a nearby telephone pole as the only light source. Omari Pearson said he had no such duels with his grandfather, who served in the U.S. Army.

Roosevelt did, however, regularly wake Omari up at 5 a.m. and demand that he clean his room.

"All that crazy stuff," Pearson said. "That's something you battle as a kid, because you want to play. He wanted discipline, respecting elders and working hard in academics. Keeping my room clean, that was the big thing. That was the hardest thing. As a kid, you tend to be very lazy.

"He broke those habits real quick, and I appreciate him for that."

So it is of no coincidence that Pearson has received only two B's in the last 43 class credits he has taken. He will not allow his grade-point average to dip below 3.6, the minimum required for law school.

Last season, he earned a spot on the Academic All-Mountain West Conference team. He also plays a prominent role in the UNLV student-athlete advisory board, which voices its concerns to the administration.

Pearson coordinates community outreach projects and services, and he helps to recommend new institutional policies.

"Omari has life pretty well figured out," said UNLV coach Charlie Spoonhour. "He's not afraid to work for the things he wants to have. He's very smart, and a good person who works hard. He's a good guy to have on any team."

When he first landed in Las Vegas, Pearson drove a Lincoln Navigator. That, then the Escalade, came courtesy of members of his immediate family who will often combine their resources into an annual lump-sum gift for Pearson.

The Escalade was too nice to pass up, but he admitted that maybe he should have settled on a nondescript Saturn. Being part of such a prominent team means constant public scrutiny, anyway, and the Cadillac with the near-black windows is an easy target.

Eric Toliver, a UNLV associate athletic director in charge of compliance, told Pearson that he receives an average of five phone calls a week from people, nearly always anonymous, who think they're tipping him off to the Escalade.

It's all legitimate, according to Pearson and Toliver. The vehicle is paid for and registered in Pearson's name, and Toliver researches every detail about every car, truck or SUV that each UNLV athlete drives to ensure full compliance with NCAA laws.

"I understand," Pearson said. "People want to look out for the Rebels. They don't want the program to go through the ups and downs, like it did before. That makes a lot of sense, and it's why I don't let it affect me ... it's part of the game."

Toliver's vehicle reports are so complete, NCAA officials have not questioned any of his facts or figures, or queried him for further information, about any Rebel during his three-year tenure.

It was Toliver, not Pearson, who revealed Pearson's extensive contributions on the student-athlete advisory board.

"I'd go to war with this kid," Toliver said. "He is amazing. He breaks every stereotype, as an athlete, an African-American student-athlete and a basketball player."

UNLV guard Mike Paulos, son of casino owner Bill Paulos, occasionally tools around in a Bentley, and it is common for Rebels in other sports to drive luxury vehicles. Toliver said jealous Rebels will even ask him about what so-and-so is driving.

"If you're so curious," Toliver tells them, "ask him (or her)."

No, Pearson said, he does not live in a plush suite high atop Turnberry Place. He lives in a Henderson apartment that allows him to study or play video games in peace and quiet. He regularly fishes for change to do laundry, just like many of his peers.

"A lot of people judge a book by its cover," Pearson said. "My outer appearance, I'm always happy. I'm always smiling. I have a nice truck, but the reality of it is it's a blessing, something I have that I'm very grateful for."

He would be just as grateful for more than the 10 minutes of court time he's averaged this season, but he also knows he has a lot to learn since he only started playing basketball five years ago. Plus, the Rebels are 10-2.

Pearson recently talked with Spoonhour about his status.

"Like everyone else who works hard, he wants to know how he can help and, in return, get some more minutes," Spoonhour said. "He's trying to simplify his game in order to fit. He's bright, and he understands things. Omari is more than just a basketball player.

"He's a perfect example of what a student-athlete ought to be."