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Joakim Noah Interview

ATLANTA – Florida's Joakim Noah recently was locked in his hotel room, bound there by his own celebrity. Bored, he began channel-flipping and landed on an HBO documentary called "The UCLA Dynasty." Noah watched the part about Bill Walton and saw something of himself.

Not Walton, the player. Noah knows better than that. Walton was for three years the offensive force that Noah is unlikely ever to become.

Noah also learned that Walton was outspoken about the Vietnam War. If Noah cares to dig deeper, he will find that Walton once was arrested along with 51 other students during one protest and that Walton laid down in front of LAPD officers on the busy corner of Wilshire and Veteran during another.

With that Walton, the pony-tailed Noah could relate. Noah might be the most outspoken high-profile player to come along in the college game during the 33 years since Walton left UCLA in 1974 to grow a pony-tail of his own with the Portland Trail Blazers. Noah is loud, as Walton would become after curing his problem with stuttering. Noah is curious, like Walton, and calls "African Diaspora," the study of the movement of African cultures, his favorite course at Florida, though he didn't do well in it.

"Off the court, yeah, I share his views about the way I feel about the war," Noah said. "I'm against the war. I don't understand it, and I'm not scared to speak about how I feel about things like that.

"To me, when I hear about Bill Walton, I think, 'Oh, yeah, he was a hippie.' But he was so much more than that. It was so much more than being a liberal or a Democrat. It was interesting to see that this guy stepped up and was inspired and spoke his mind. He didn't let that, 'OK, I'm an All-American and everybody is going to hear what I say, so I'm not going to say anything and ruin my image.' I respect that. I respect players who aren't afraid to speak their mind."

Noah isn't afraid, either. He nearly staged a one-man protest of President Bush and the war in Iraq when the Gators were invited to the White House after winning the NCAA title last season. Coach Billy Donovan persuaded Noah to come with them by convincing him that if he didn't attend, housemates Al Horford, Corey Brewer and Taurean Green would be the ones left to explain and defend his actions.

So the son of the tennis star and the beauty queen – this child of the universe with addresses in France and Florida, New York and Africa – tagged along with the Gators to 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. in Washington, D.C.

"It was weird, because I don't really agree with (Bush's) views," Noah said. "I don't really agree with what he stands for. At the same time, I have great respect for my country. I love my country. My political view isn't going to change how I view about America. It's given me unbelievable opportunity. I love so many aspects about the culture. I love sports. I love New York. I love college. Living in France and different countries, I've been able to compare and contrast and say, 'I like this about this country.'

"That's why I've been really lucky.

"That's why I wish more people had the opportunity to travel, so that they can be critical of their own culture.

"Yeah, I don't really believe in his views. At the same time, I don't want to bring negative publicity to this team."

Such views have transformed Noah from a worldly novelty into the team lightning rod who replaced former teammate Matt Walsh as Public Enemy No. 1 on every SEC court and created mini-firestorms by shoving a Kentucky cheerleader's pompon from his face and trying to snatch a ball from Vanderbilt coach Kevin Stallings' hands.

Noah also never became the Everybody's All-American that was expected of him after winning Most Outstanding Player honors in the 2006 Final Four. He was largely the same player that he was one year ago. His post moves remain far from graceful. He is still all about bringing a chest-pounding energy that figures to be in stark contrast to Greg Oden's stoicism in Monday night's Ohio State-Florida title match.

Noah was told that Oden said his mother would disapprove if he acted like that. Noah smiled and rolled his eyes.

"We're different people," Noah said. "I think my mom's proud of the way I act. My mom was crying after the game (Saturday) and telling me how proud she was of me. We're different people. I grew up with rock 'n' roll people. My mom's rock 'n' roll, and my dad's rock 'n' roll."

The same could be said for Noah and his housemates, the celebrated "Oh-Fours" who arrived in Gainesville in 2004.

"I feel like we're all very different," Noah said.

In a masterful moment of comedic timing, Noah paused as Brewer, wearing a goofy smile, walked past Noah's interview area in that herky-jerky, praying mantis gait of his.

"I mean, look at this guy."

Look at Brewer, but listen to Noah. College basketball might not be treated to another like him for another third of a century or so.