Keep Your Enemies Closer

Can a best-buds bond survive college hoops' most heated rivalry? Wayne Ellington and Gerald Henderson are about to find out

Standing toe-to-toe on the concourse level of the Dean Dome, and having just been issued a directive to summon crunch-time game faces, Duke's Gerald Henderson and UNC's Wayne Ellington can't keep from giggling.

"You got platforms in those shoes?" laughs Henderson. "I heard about you." He's just rekindling a long-standing argument. Although both freshmen are listed at 6'4", the apex of Henderson's noggin has, for a while now, given him a quarter-inch on his counterpart.

"That's okay," Ellington fires back, "I play taller."

Such friendly fire between players in these two particular shades of blue is rare. The fact that they agreed to be photographed together during the season? Some kind of sin. Seeing a Dukie and a Tar Heel together in these parts is a little like seeing your wife before the wedding—with the best man.

But Wayne and Gerald carry on as if they've never heard about the Art Heyman-Larry Brown brawl. Or Coach K accusing the refs in the 1980s of giving Dean Smith special treatment. Or Tar Heels fans claiming the Blue Devils have gotten every call since. Or those chants of "Go to hell, Carolina" and "Go to hell, Duke." And on and on and on.

As the photographer readies a new set, Gerald brings up a January game in which UNC let Penn jump to an 18-8 lead. "I wasn't impressed," he scoffs. "Penn got out on y'all." Ellington just smiles. He knows the Heels won the game 102-64, and that he ignited the team with three straight buckets in the second half. And anyway, he's been hearing it from Gerald for years. They're boys. In fact, until this season, most of their highlights have come on the same court.

From here on in, though, they'll be coming at each other's expense.

ASK GERALD when he and Wayne became best friends, and his answer is as quick as his buddy's release. "The day we met," he says. Growing up in different parts of Pennsylvania—Wayne in Douglassville, Gerald in Philadelphia—they knew each other by reputation as two of the state's top players in their age group. But it wasn't until Wayne Sr. moved his family to Philly's Main Line in 2003 and enrolled his 15-year-old son in The Episcopal Academy—where Gerald had been a student since the second grade—that the two actually met.

Despite having similar swingman skill sets, Wayne and Gerald never got in each other's way. They were too busy setting picks for each other and exchanging alley-oops. In one AAU game, Ellington hit nine straight threes, many of them off of passes from Henderson. At last year's McDonald's All-American Game, Gerald won the dunk contest, Wayne the three-point shootout. "Everyone waited for them to clash," says Episcopal head coach Dan Dougherty, "but it never came." And off the court, Wayne and Gerald were inseparable.

But when it came time to make their college choices, they couldn't have been further apart. In the fall of their junior year, they took a trip down to Tobacco Road. The maniacal roar inside sweaty Cameron Indoor was music to Henderson's ears. Ellington, though, was unmoved. He preferred the more civilized atmosphere inside the Smith Center.

Henderson's dad, Gerald Sr., was a 13-year NBA pro. (Wayne also has an athletic pedigree: His great-uncle Russell once coached the Harlem Globetrotters.) Gerald Sr. was friends with Duke star and current assistant Johnny Dawkins, and they had remained close. So the younger Henderson grew up listening to Dawkins' many memories about the Blue Devils' greatest triumphs. Those stories and that junior-year trip led to Gerald's official Durham visit in the spring of 2005. One meeting with Krzyzewski sealed the deal. "Coach K had a vision for me," Henderson explains, "and I liked what he saw."

What Krzyzewski told Gerald was that he could be one of the greatest Blue Devils of all time, mentioned in the same breath as Dawkins, Grant Hill and Elton Brand. As soon as Henderson got back to Philly, he called Wayne to tell him he'd made up his mind.

The next day, the Ellingtons were dinner guests at Roy Williams' house in Chapel Hill. Coach Williams, who had also invited then-Tar Heel freshman Marvin Williams, cooked steak and baked potatoes, and his wife, Wanda, made hot banana pudding for dessert. Afterward, Marvin popped in a tape of Carolina's national championship game. As the highlight reel played, Marvin's eyes misted up. "When I saw that, I realized this was family to him," says Ellington. "I knew I wanted the same thing." The next week, Ellington committed to North Carolina. The rest is history in the making.

The once-conjoined friends now keep tabs on each other with daily text messages and cell phone chats. They talk about classes (Gerald digs African-Americans in Film and Music), the NBA ("Did you see Wade's dunk?") and, of course, girls (Ellington is sure UNC has the better crop). The two spend evenings IMing, urging each other to check out a SportsCenter highlight, or to get a scouting report on an opponent. Henderson was miffed when his thunderous tip-dunk against Wake Forest failed to make the nightly Top 10. No matter. Ellington saw it and approved.

At first, their bond superceded team loyalty. Neither was prepared to give up the goods on guarding the other, and each refused to take sides against the other. Don't even think about saying anything bad about my boy. But sometimes they did touch on subjects that approached "classified." "Do you guys watch film of games you already played?" asks Henderson. "No, not really." "Man, that's all we do." That was then. Like it or not, understand it or not, the 19-year-old BFFs are now smack in the middle of college basketball's most intense rivalry. It's been a while since Henderson could ask, "When is the game, sometime next month?" and mean it.

As the game gets close—even Gerald now knows it's set for Feb. 7 in Durham—cool nonchalance is slowly melting away. Yes, they're pals, but this is Duke-Carolina. Loose talk is more carefully held now. Somebody has a sore ankle? Better to keep that quiet.

Henderson isn't betting on the Cameron Crazies to rattle the sweet-shooting Ellington (40 3PT%). But he knows some things. And if his teammates need a tip on how to shut him down, Gerald is the man to ask. Thousands of one-on-one battles have made him an expert.

Will Ellington be as generous with his state secrets? "Absolutely," he insists. "We're trying to win this game."

On the big day, the fact that Ellington is a starter (12.4 ppg, 2.8 rpg) and Henderson a sub (6.1, 2.8) won't matter a lick to either. They're learning that the game is way bigger than either of them. "History will only remember who wins," says Henderson.

The significance of the moment is no longer lost on Ellington. "When I walk out onto that court and see him standing in front of me," he says, "it's gonna be one of the best moments of my life."

LESS THAN an hour after Duke defeats George Mason on Dec. 9, a small gathering of friends and family waits for the Blue Devils to emerge from the locker room. When Henderson Jr. steps out, he is quickly greeted by his father. By his own estimation, Senior makes it to about 70% of Duke's games. "My time has passed," he says. "This is my kid's time now."

Dad has given his son everything he needs to make that time special. "He has all the physical abilities—great body, strong, fast—you want a guy to have," says Krzyzewski. "And coming from a family of hard workers, he has brought that work ethic with him."

Later that evening, in Chapel Hill, the Carolina team room is abuzz after a win against High Point. Players huddle around an Xbox as a team manager scurries about to let the guys know they're meeting at Sutton's for breakfast at 8:30. A cake the size of a Buick's windshield covers one side of a Ping-Pong table, commemorating Williams' 500th victory.

Ellington is surrounded by half a dozen reporters who listen attentively to his tales of dorm life. Wayne Sr., who just relocated his family from suburban Philly to Chapel Hill, slouches nearby on a black leather couch. He watches the proceedings with a contented smile. "This right here is what it's all about," he says. He has clearly bought into the Carolina way. Or maybe he never needed to. "Wayne's parents' involvement," says Williams, "is an extension of the family atmosphere that North Carolina is all about."

Like their sons, the senior Ellington and Henderson are in regular contact. They offer updates on their kids and talk a little trash of their own. "I remember Big G from his days with the Sixers," says Ellington Sr. in a joking manner. "He was a bum. He's my man, don't get me wrong. But, seriously, he was a bum."

On Feb. 7 both sets of parents—and plenty of extended-family members—will be in attendance when the Tar Heels take the nine-mile trip up Tobacco Road. "The chances that I'll sit next to Wayne Sr. are slim to none," says Gerald Sr. "I want to see Wayne do well, but I hope Gerald does better."

The feeling is mutual. "We'll see each other before the game and talk a little junk," Wayne Sr. offers. "Then we'll smack the hell out of Duke."

OVER THE winter break, Henderson and Ellington spent three days together back home—all the time off their teams gave them. They went to the movies, shopped for hats and sneakers at the King of Prussia Mall and played some one-on-one. "I got him pretty good," says Ellington. "He doesn't want to talk about it."

"Man, I was only going half-speed, because I wanted to make it fair," Henderson responds.

Okay, so maybe they still need to hone the jawing. It's impossible to believe it won't come more naturally before long. "Trust me, they will find out soon enough," says Carolina alum and current Wizard Antawn Jamison. "The closer you get to the game, the more you realize how big it is. People on campus give you reminders: 'I know you got Maryland tomorrow, but you gotta get those boys in Durham next week.' "

Back at their blasphemous photo shoot, Henderson stares placidly into North Carolina's empty, cavernous arena, its shimmering court and skyblue seats stretching to heaven.

"Get a good look at the court," says Ellington, snapping him back to reality. "Study it while you can."

"Please—just looking at it makes my stomach turn," Henderson replies.

Now we're getting somewhere.

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