46 minutes

46 minutes.

How much would you give for 46 minutes on the court?

How about three years of daily four- and five-hour practices, constant workouts, a non-existent social life and the occasional road trip up and down the ACC?

Forty-six minutes may not seem like a lot, but for walk-on Jordan Davidson, the 46 minutes he's played under the lights at Cameron Indoor Stadium (as of press time) in three seasons are all worth it.

Back in high school, the 6-foot-1 Davidson had scholarship offers from Southern California, Southern Mississippi and Richmond, but instead decided to try his hand under the tutelage of Mike Krzyzewski and the rigor of Duke academics.

Three years later, the mild-mannered senior from Melbourne, Arkansas has no regrets.

Davidson's lack of playing time-it averages out to 1.4 minutes per game in 34 career contests-is no hindrance to his work ethic and determination. That's because, even if the Blue Devils are routing a team, those sparing minutes are as important to Krzyzewski as they are to Davidson.

"Coach K talks about the fact that he's coaching every minute whether it's the last three of the game or the first-'These minutes are important to me so they better be important to you,'" Davidson says. "That helps you stay focused if you know he's not taking the play off."

It doesn't hurt that those 46 minutes generally play out on one of basketball's grandest stages. Who wouldn't trade a leading role off-Broadway for just a moment at The Globe? Davidson remembers his ESPN moment from sophomore year, when teammate Jon Scheyer converted a four-point play while Davidson was on the court in the background.

Some might argue that 46 minutes and a supporting role on SportsCenter aren't enough of a reward for the work Davidson puts in all year. He strongly disagrees, highlighting the lessons he learns from Krzyzewski and his teammates on a daily basis about growing up.

"Becoming a man" is Coach K's most important lesson, according to Davidson (and a certain American Express commercial). It's an understatement to say a varsity basketball athlete has many obligations, and it was difficult for a 19-year-old to be running at 7 a.m. and not immediately seeing the fruits of his labor on the court. But it's not necessarily all about rewards on the court.

"Even if I don't play a second of professional basketball, I become a man, and I can tell just in the way I do everything from getting up in the morning to getting my work done. This whole program has instilled responsibility in me, which I guess is just the natural process of people this age. I do think it's definitely sped it up for me."

Davidson acknowledges that it can be tough to stay ready for his infrequent appearances. He recalls the time he was thrown in medias res his freshman year at the end of the first half against St. John's. Duke not only got a defensive stop, but the point guard came down with the rebound. Krzyzewski made sure to compliment Davidson's "on-the-ball defense" after the game.

"I was a little freshman at that point, and my ego was tiny," Davidson jokes. "For him to point me out just speaks to the managerial skills he has. He knew that I was going to be part of this program for four years and that he wanted to help me boost my confidence. He probably could have put any number of plays in that film, but he did what he did."

Davidson is not trying to be Nolan Smith or Greg Paulus; he's just trying to be their foil every day in practice because he knows the more he pressures them, the better they play and the better Duke is in the long run. He knows his best days are not necessarily good days for teammates who play more often.

"Typically, I'll be guarding Nolan or Greg, and you just have to push them because whenever they beat you and you're getting better, they're getting better," he adds. "It's kind of a weird dynamic.. Your success comes in the team's success on the court, and you see where you push these guys and how they've gotten better."

Duke was not originally on Davidson's radar-his brother Patrick played sparingly on the team from 2004-2006 as well-but after he talked to Krzyzewski and Chris Collins, an associate head coach, he was excited about the opportunity. Although he had other scholarship offers, he knew that playing in any capacity and attending what he calls "a juggernaut in athletics and academics" would be a once in a lifetime opportunity.

Davidson says his parents were not a huge factor in his decision. His father, a former business owner, and his mother, human resources director at a two-year college in Arkansas, didn't play college sports. They couldn't give him much insight as to what it would be like.

He knew coming in that not being a scholarship athlete could have been a problem. However, Davidson emphasizes that every player in the Blue Devil locker room can earn respect-as long as they work for it-regardless of their scholarship status.

"You can't fit into the team if you don't respect yourself," Davidson says.

"I had been recruited and I knew what the process was about, just not on Duke's level, but then I came in and proved that I could play. From then on, respect wasn't an issue. It's not like other programs where you hear guys come in and are not satisfied and don't really feel part of the team. That's not how they treat you here, and it's a relief."

While there are perks to the varsity athlete life, there are certainly drawbacks as well. Time crunch is first on Davidson's list. Although all the players have access to tutors, the team has relatively little time to get their work done. Off-days are crucial for players, and Student Life and Campus Relations Coordinator Kenny King is adamant that they keep up on their work whenever they can.

The team enjoys some of the pleasures of normal college life-the occasional Shooters Saturday night-but on the whole their social life revolves around the locker room and on what teammates are doing.

"The work is tough," Davidson says with a chuckle. "Trying to juggle that and four to five hours of basketball every day can be a lot. Teachers are great. They work with you and give you extensions as long it's not some crazy excuse, and you're trying to get the work done."

Fortunately for Davidson, weeknight appearances on ESPN qualify as legitimate.

Like much of the Duke community, Davidson is unsure about his future, particularly with the current economic crisis. A psychology major, he worked last summer for the NBA's Portland Trail Blazers in communications and community relations. He has enough credits to take two classes next semester and graduate in the spring, but there is the possibility of red-shirting this season and having the opportunity to be in the rotation next year.

No matter what career path Davidson eventually chooses, he might have a leg up on the rest of the field even in the poor economy.

Teri Mills, senior assistant director for the Career Center and liaison to the athletic department, says athletes have an enormous advantage when one considers the skills they receive every day.

In terms of their athletics, they're getting all kinds of amazing experiences that regular students don't receive, like the Bar Mitzvah "becoming a man"

experience.

Employers say that they like student-athletes, and the athletic department sets up information sessions for them, but Mills notes that there aren't jobs available exclusively for athletes.

"I tell student-athletes that this is your job, this is your internship, this is your experience," Mills adds. "It's just a natural tendency for employers to want to talk to high-profile athletes. The high-profile

athletes may have an advantage in that they have to do more media and other kinds of communication."

While working in Portland this summer, Davidson says some of his fondest memories came from watching his own coach win a gold medal in the Olympics. The whole team gathered for the final game against Spain and communicated throughout the two weeks with Krzyzewski in Beijing.

Davidson says it was surreal to watch the best players in the world compete in the Duke system. He spoke of Team USA's intensity, attributing it to Coach K's hunger-one of the main reasons Davidson feels compelled to practice day after day no matter what his role turns out as on the court.

"He's the hungriest person I know, and I think that translates into every facet of my life," Davidson says, pointing out Krzyzewski's workout regimen and the hours of film he watches. "Whatever it is I'm doing, it's going to teach me that no matter your accomplishments or lack of accomplishments, you have got to stay hungry and strive to be the best."

Even if you don't get to show it every game.

Rob Copeland contributed to this story.

Discussion

Share and discuss “46 minutes” on social media.