Even at 5-9, Nate Robinson is Huskies' Mr. Big

LOS ANGELES — It may be a contradiction in terms when Nate Robinson talks about being a big brother, but for the 5-foot-9 sophomore guard for the Washington basketball team, it's a role he values in no small measure.

Family counts. It doesn't matter who it is — parents, stepparents, grandparents, brothers, sisters, half-brothers, half-sisters, cousins — Nate Robinson is like a protective shield.

"It's really second to God for him," said his father, Jacque Robinson, the former UW and NFL running back. "I really love that part of him. He takes care of his little brothers and little sisters. For me, that's awesome to see."

His mother, Renee Busch, who broke up with Jacque when Nate was quite young, added, "He loves his family. We're all close, both sides of the family. I married a guy, Roy Busch, that he (Nate) really enjoys a lot."

Jacque and Renee, college sweethearts at UW, had three children together. Nate is the oldest. Jacque would later establish another family, adding four more children. But six years ago, the Robinsons lost one member. Deron Isaac Robinson died of sudden infant death syndrome. Deron lived for just four months.

"It was a big shock," Nate said. "Dad discovered him. He called me and was crying on the phone. I took it hard. I think about him all the time. When he sat up he looked like my dad with his arms out and his knuckles closed. We used to try to get our fingers in his fist.

"I remember (when he called) we were listening to Puff Daddy's 'I'll Be Missing You.' Now every time I hear that song I get teary eyed. I believe God will bring him back in another form, someone else in my family having a baby. I like being a big brother, having them look up to me. I wanted to teach him like my dad taught me."

Jacque said Nate "was making plans for (Deron) to play football. He was paving the way for his little brother. He was devastated."

Renee added, "He talks about Deron like he's still here."

Nate, who takes his Huskies team on the floor tomorrow night against UCLA in the first round of the Pac-10 tournament, had a winged basketball tattooed on his arm and the letters RIP to honor his brother. If he ever has a son of his own, he says he'll be called Deron.

All the families' members gathered together in Seattle for the funeral. Deron was buried in the UW football jersey that Jacque wore when he won the MVP at the 1982 Rose Bowl.

Down in front

Those school pictures were the worst. It meant Nate Robinson had to stand in the front row, probably next to a taller girl for the class pictures.

"I still have the team picture in fourth grade, and he's in the front row with all the smallest kids," said Brandon Roy, his UW teammate who played on several youth teams with and against Nate. "He was like 4-foot-something. He has always been in that front row."

There's no getting around it. Nate is a victim of heredity. He wanted so much to be like his father, the only player ever honored as the MVP of the Rose Bowl and the (1985) Orange Bowl. Jacque, though powerfully built and a superb athlete, is about 5-11, and Renee was just a shade over 5 feet. The reality was that Nate had a low gene ceiling.

"He told me one day that all he had was one dream — he wanted to be big," said Jacque, brokenhearted over the limitations on Nate's aspirations. "He said, 'All the kids are bigger than me. I want to be 7-foot tall.' "

"I told him, 'You're not going to be 7 foot, son, but you don't have to be 7 foot to dunk the ball. You can do it just like the 7-footers.' From then on, he focused on that."

Nate, with extraordinary leaping ability, dunked a volleyball when he was in seventh grade. "But it wasn't until the eighth grade that he officially did it (with a basketball)," Jacque said. "He was 5-1 or so."

Nate, who is just a tad over 5-8, has developed into a phenomenal jumper/dunker for the Huskies. He is said to have a 40-inch vertical leap, but given a running start and adrenaline juice, it's higher than that. That was displayed Jan. 29 in the Huskies' home upset of then No. 9 Arizona. Midway through the second half, he slipped behind the Wildcats' bulky inside players for an alley-oop pass from Curtis Allen. He was so high he had to haul it down from behind his right ear for his impact dunk. Teammates across the floor on the bench said they could see Robinson's eyes above the rim.

"I look at him in the air," Renee said, "and it's like angels are helping him."

That dunk was the No. 1 highlight on ESPN that evening. It is his signature play to date but just one of a collection of fantastic flushes.

"Sometimes you take it for granted because you've seen them so often through high school and pickup games," said teammate Will Conroy, who has played with and against Nate since they were young. "We haven't seen the best highlight yet. He has two more years yet here. Ain't no telling."

Nate also had one other dunk that shook people up in other ways. It came in the waning seconds of UW's 83-74 victory Feb. 12 at home against Oregon. As the clock expired, he decided to slam it down. Oregon players believed that he was rubbing it in, and Ducks coach Ernie Kent admonished him for what he thought was a classless move.

Nate said he did not intend to disrespect the players, just Ducks fans. He remembered how they chanted "Gary Coleman" when the Huskies played in Eugene on Jan. 15. The student section held up blown-up pictures of Coleman, the diminutive former child star in a mocking display. Nate sought his payback.

"I was so mad, I'm glad I didn't go (to Eugene)," Renee said. "I would have snatched those Gary Coleman signs from their hands. Then they make all that fuss about the dunk. I would have done that, too. That anger part, he got that from me."

Competitive kid

Renee gave birth to Nate while still in college, between Jacque's bowl-game MVPs and before he began his NFL career with Philadelphia. By the time Nate turned 5, they had separated. That also was about the time Nate went to live with Jacque because Renee underwent a year of rehabilitation for drug dependency.

Renee is not ashamed to talk about it. She's proud that she has been dependency-free for 15 years and in some ways it has made her stronger. She came back as a fighter, establishing her salon business braiding hair in the Central District. She also works another job, stocking shelves from 11 p.m. to 7 a.m. at the Renton Wal-Mart.

"That (fight in me) comes from my mom's side," Nate said. "She worked all her life. We didn't have much. We were struggling. But she never gives up. She keeps going and still works a late- night shift.

"Together, they built a child with a heart of a lion. To me, they are the best parents, by far."

Renee, who shouldered most of the responsibility in raising Nate and her two other children, said, "He's so sweet. He always gives me credit. After all, he's my son, too. I've been truly blessed in my life. Not one day goes by when someone doesn't compliment me on my son. People think I'm jealous because there's only talk about his dad. But I tell him that, 'Your dad paved the way for you.' "

Jacque, who also was one of the top high-school basketball players in the country coming out of Oakland, Calif., raised a child who worships him. Nate is proud of his father and has tried to follow him in everything he did, not just on playing fields.

Nate remembers as a youngster when he tried to eat as many chili dogs as his father. His stomach couldn't handle it and before he could make it to the bathroom, he threw up on his little brother Jacque Jr. Those were the times when his father would call him by his full name, Nathaniel Cornelius Robinson.

"When he heard Cornelius, he knew he got his dad mad," Jacque said. "I'm the only one who calls him that. It was my name, so I figured I'd see how he works with it."

He took not only his father's name, but his talent. Nate, despite his size, was a remarkable and versatile athlete from a young age. Anything he tried, he was brilliant — baseball, basketball, football, track or swimming. Nate was Jacque's mini-me.

"He always did better than me," Jacque said. "I told him when he was young that 'You can be way better than your dad ever was.' And he said me, 'Really, dad? I can?' He had all the good traits I have. I made sure he didn't have the bad ones."

Nate exceeded his father's high-school exploits. He led Rainier Beach to a 28-1 record and the state Class AAA basketball title his senior year. He had more than 1,200 receiving yards and scored 21 touchdowns in football. When hurdling caught his fancy, he set up a garbage can, two chairs and a fence in his backyard to practice. He went on to set the state record of 13.85 seconds in the 110-meter hurdles.

Everywhere he went he carried his basketball. He dribbled it, slept with it and sat on it. His track coach even threw it into Lake Washington in mock anger during the Junior Olympics competition at Husky Stadium.

He slowly narrowed his sports endeavors down to two, playing football and basketball his freshman year at UW. He has completely devoted himself to basketball this season, and where would the Huskies be without him?

"He's got this burning desire to compete and win in everything," teammate Mike Jensen said. "Even in little shooting games after practice, no one takes it more serious. His teammates love him. He's a good player and a good person."

Bob Sherwin: 206-464-8286 or bsherwin@seattletimes.com