Chicago Bulls' Joakim Noah growing into star

Joakim Noah descends the basement stairs in his north suburban home, beaming at the creation down below.

Taped on the full-length mirrors that surround a health-club-worthy weight room are motivational pictures of opponents he wants to beat and comforting snapshots of family and friends.

There's a picture of his mother, Cecilia Rodhe, Miss Sweden in 1978 and an artist and sculptor, celebrating after a Bulls victory at the United Center.

There's a poignant portrait of his grandfather, Zacharie, working in a French factory to make ends meet despite his professional soccer career in Cameroon.

There are pictures of Joakim's dorm room at Florida, where he won two NCAA titles; shots of Joakim playing pick-up basketball everywhere from the asphalt playgrounds of New York City to the tropical fields of Hawaii; and a hilarious picture of a skinny Dwight Howard and a very feminine-looking Noah from the 2004 Roundball Classic at the United Center.

There's also Tyrone Green, a no-nonsense youth basketball coach from a gritty slice of New York City and a major mentor.

And of course there's a shot of Joakim's father, Yannick, hawking a product in his first endorsement shortly after galvanizing France in 1983 by becoming the first countryman to win the French Open in 37 years.

"That room is the best investment he's done so far," says his father, Yannick, from Paris, where he is now a stadium-filling pop music star. "It's a nice space. He enjoys it. And best of all, he uses it."

Yannick suggested the weight room and decorations, and the pictures reveal plenty about Joakim's multiracial and multicultural upbringing.

As for the mirrors, they reflect a young, budding NBA star who acts at peace with himself and his place in the world, anchored by a trait both his father and Green say long has been in place.

"He's never thought he's better than anybody else," Green says on the phone from New York. "He might've traveled the world and been raised in a privileged lifestyle. But he doesn't act like it. He works for everything."

Adds Yannick: "Even though he wasn't the best on his team as he grew up, he was always trying. We'd play one-on-one and of course I was bigger and tried to push him. But at the end of the day, I always told him I was proud of him because he tried. He learned that you can lose but you cannot not try."

"I owe the people who helped me"The songwriter Mark Knopfler once wrote "when you point your finger 'cause your plan fell through/you got three more fingers pointing back at you." Perhaps nowhere is this wisdom more ignored than in professional sports, where excuses are bountiful, finger-pointing is habitual and accountability can be scarce.

That's why Joakim Noah's upward arc is so, well, noteworthy.

In the tense, turbulent transition of his rookie season, teammates voted in almost unprecedented fashion to extend his suspension for berating an assistant coach. Now, Noah posts double-doubles with metronomic regularity, continuing a transformation much like the one he created in his basement.

He has looked inward to remake himself as he reshaped himself.

"That's what it's all about, trying to become a better person throughout," Joakim says during a lengthy interview in a hotel lobby. "It's all about growing. I'm not going to say I've never made mistakes. I've definitely made them. You have to learn from them.

"I feel I'm in a really privileged situation, playing at the highest level, making money doing what I love to do. Not a lot of people get the chance to do that. That's why I really enjoy what I'm doing and always make the most of it.

"I owe that to the people who helped me."

The influences in Noah's life are many. His mother. His high school coaches. Friends and siblings. Florida coach Billy Donovan.

But Noah openly embraces his fortune in having a famous father serve as close friend and walking example of handling fame, as well as a strong shepherd in Green, whom he first met as a gangly teenager when he moved back to New York City from France in 1998.

"I'm lucky in that I have a father who I'm incredibly close to but also can relate to what I'm going through," Joakim says. "That's unbelievable. He's not going to tell me, 'This is how you should do it.' He's going to tell me, 'This is what happened to me and this is how I dealt with it.' He's never once lectured me.

"Mr. Green showed me tough love. I actually never started once for Mr. Green in his tournaments. I think that was good because I grew up in France and everything was kind of easy. I would go on vacations to Africa or Hawaii with my mom or dad. I was a privileged kid.

"When I met Mr. Green, he was like, 'If you want to take this basketball thing seriously, you can't do that anymore.' You have to get better in the summertime. So come and live with me.' "

"We are most happy after a good win"Joakim was close to two years from being born when Yannick won his only Grand Slam title. But he has watched the video of that match many times and also fondly remembers Yannick giving him the 1991 Davis Cup trophy the day after Yannick captained the French team to a legendary upset of a U.S. team with Pete Sampras and Andre Agassi.

"My father is the most famous person in France," Joakim says more matter-of-factly than boastfully. "He has a lot of love over there. He was always on TV growing up. He might say something a little out there and I'd have to go to school the next day. I'm going through my routine with my teachers and friends and you don't really understand everything as a kid. But my father always taught me not to be scared to speak my mind.

"He's very approachable. That's what people like over there. He's a people person. I remember growing up and I wanted my dad to lose because I wanted to spend quality time with him. I didn't want to share my dad. But now I look back and understand people respected how he always gave them time. Instead of being a tennis champion, he's the people's champion."

After spending his first three years in New York City, Joakim moved to Paris with his parents and younger sister, Yelena, in 1988. Though his parents divorced amicably a year later, Joakim remained in France until 13.

Joakim says his father would crush him in basketball, never taking it easy on him, and that he'd cry and throw basketballs because he was such a sore loser. Yannick says he'd take the basketballs away as punishment. But inside, he was smiling.

"He was my first child and of course I'm going to share my passion for sport, for exercising, for sweating and trying hard," Yannick says. "We'd play soccer, basketball, tennis and I hated to lose. I'm now cured of that disease, but to be a professional athlete, you have to be a bad loser. You have to hurt.

"And Joakim has that too. That's what I'm really proud of. He doesn't make excuses. He's passionate about the game, loves the teamwork and most of all wants to win. I know people see it as a job after turning professional. He doesn't. He sacrifices whatever it takes to improve and to win."

This competitiveness can sometimes get obscured by both Yannick's and Joakim's reputation for seeking a good time.

"It's true," Yannick says. "I always told him be who you are. Don't try to hide. Don't be fake. Never hurt anybody. Go out and have a great time. But then the next day, make sure you have a good jog or work hard. We are athletes. We are most happy after a good win."

Joakim remembers early-morning jogs with his father in Central Park and through the streets of France. He says his appreciation for his father's accomplishments has grown as his career has progressed.

"He never judged me for mistakes," Joakim says. "We talk every day of our lives. And we never talk about the actual game. We talk more about the mental aspect or distractions or things that happen once the game is over. It's a special thing."

"He wasn't good enough. But I thought he could learn."On the night the Bulls drafted him, Joakim interrupted a national TV interview to proclaim his intense love for a "Mr. Green." Even 12 years after moving from Paris to New York City and meeting him, Joakim refuses to call his mentor by his first name, Tyrone.

Green, now 59, ran the Police Athletic League and now serves as sports coordinator for Goodwill Industries in Queens.

"So my mom and sister would go to Africa or Sweden or Hawaii and I would stay in New York and live with Mr. Green," Joakim says. "I'd stay with him in Bedford-Stuyvesant in Brooklyn, which opened my eyes because I wasn't used to being around poverty. It made me tougher, especially on the court."

Green hung the nickname "Sticks" on Joakim because of his frail frame. But Green immediately recognized Joakim's insatiable desire to get better and made sure he became adept at using both hands.

"He's a very competitive guy, just like his father," Green says. "And he's very intelligent too."

Still, Joakim's street smarts didn't ease the emotional sting when Green would bring him to the prestigious ABCD Camp he'd work annually in New Jersey -- as someone to sweep the courts or run errands.

"He was pissed," Green says. "My wife would ask why he didn't play and I'd say, 'He's not embarrassing himself or embarrassing me.' He wasn't good enough yet. But I thought he could learn."

When Joakim finally participated before his senior year of high school, Green says two schools were offering scholarships. After Joakim dominated at the camp, most big-name programs came calling.

"Some kids are late bloomers," Green says. "I know talent. And I told you three years ago, Jo will be an NBA All-Star."

"Isn't this the best?"

The relationship between Green and Yannick is strong too.

"I recognized Joakim's passion and love for the game," Yannick says. "But Tyrone was the first one to recognize and use his talent. I thought he was crazy the first time he told me Joakim was going to go all the way to the NBA. But Tyrone always had this vision.

"Cecilia was there all the time and I was around, but we didn't know anything about basketball. Tyrone was the mentor. He loves Joakim as a son and I'm glad they've always kept this bond. It's a real relationship."

Nevertheless, it's one Green says has its boundaries.

"I know my place; I know I'm not his father," Green says. "Jo is special to me and I did what I had to do, but he's my best friend. Yannick and Jo are very close and Yannick is a great person. I lost my wife last year and Yannick called me right away because my wife loved Jo. It ain't about basketball."

The boundless enthusiasm with which Joakim plays basketball translates to his off-the-court-relationships as well.

"I'm blessed," Joakim says. "My dad helped me so much. And my dad knows what Mr. Green brought to the table. When you see me play, you're not like, 'Oh, he's just a rich tennis kid who grew up in a tennis environment.' I feel like when I play, I play tough. That's the New York in me. That's the street tournaments. And that goes to Mr. Green."

Both Green and Yannick say they're most proud of Joakim off the court.

"He's a good person," Yannick says. "He's real. He's a great son to me and his mom. He has three sisters and one brother and they adore him. He gives a lot of love. Regardless of what happens to his career, he will be a natural, nice person."

Back in Noah's basement, just to the right of a rack of dumbbells, is a photo of Yannick celebrating on the night of his historic French Open victory.

Yannick smiles the smile of a winner, of a champion, of someone who has looked inward to challenge himself to reach great heights. His son points at the photo and smiles.

"Isn't this the best?" Joakim says.