People always ask me, “Who was your biggest individual rival when you played high school basketball?”

I never have to think about the answer. William “TuTu” Ferguson from Woodland Hills. ASAP.

And when I say rival, I’m not talking about the social-media version of a rivalry where two players talk a little trash and then hug and take pictures afterward.

Me and TuTu did not like each other. At all.

Today, that’s my dawg. Whenever I see him, it’s nothing but love. I consider him a good friend, and I have a tremendous amount of respect for the man he became. But back then? Man, listen.

Penn Hills and Woodland Hills already had a natural rivalry. Two proud programs, two communities that knew each other, and games where everybody in the gym understood what was at stake. Then you added me and TuTu to it.

That took it somewhere completely different.

 

One of Western Pennsylvania’s Greatest Athletes

Before I even talk about our battles, TuTu deserves his flowers as an athlete.

William Ferguson was one of the greatest all-around athletes to come out of Western Pennsylvania. And I don’t just mean football players. Athletes. Period.

Whatever sport you put him in, he could play it.

On the basketball court, he was a dawg. Explosive, strong, fast, competitive and usually the best pure athlete on the floor. He was a legitimate baseball player. And in football, he was talented enough to make the Post Gazette fab 22 team and be named quad A player of the year and go play at Pitt.

There are guys who are good at multiple sports, and then there are those rare athletes where you legitimately wonder what sport they would have gone the furthest in if they concentrated on only one.

TuTu was one of those guys.

 

He Made Me Work

Most people remember how many points somebody scored.

Players remember how those points felt.

There were plenty of high school games where basketball came easy to me. I could laugh, talk, score and enjoy myself. Woodland Hills wasn’t one of those nights. Especially with TuTu. I might finish with 30, but those weren’t going to be an easy 30. He was going to make me work for every single one. I was getting my cardio that night.

He was physical. He was athletic enough to stay with me. He competed on every possession, and he wasn’t intimidated by my reputation. When I played against TuTu, I knew before I walked into the gym that I had to bring it.

And secretly? I loved that.

Great competitors want somebody who makes them reach for another level. TuTu did that for me.

 

“Who the Hell Caught Me?”

One play from my junior year still makes me laugh.

We’re playing Woodland Hills at Penn Hills. I get out on a breakaway. The crowd starts going crazy because everybody knows what’s coming. I’m getting ready to tear the rim down.

I go up and start cocking the ball back… BOOM. Somebody blocks it.

I’m thinking, What the hell? Who caught me? Because whoever chased me down had to be running about a 4.1 forty. Of course it was TuTu.

There was absolutely no way he was letting me get a breakaway dunk against Woodland Hills in my own gym. If he had to take me, the basketball and half the backboard with him, that dunk wasn’t happening.

That’s how competitive he was.

Then this dude comes down the other end, scores a layup… and laughs at me. Now I’m hot.

A few possessions later, I caught him with a crossover and scored. I looked at him and said: “I thought I tore your ACL.”

That was us. Trash talk. Elbows. Physical play. Dirty little veteran tricks. Personal insults. Anything to get an advantage.

And when the final buzzer sounded? Don’t come looking for a handshake. We weren’t doing that.

 

The Respect We Were Too Immature to Admit

Looking back as grown men, the funniest part is that underneath all that hate was actually respect. We were just too young and too competitive to admit it.

I knew TuTu could play. TuTu knew I could play. That’s exactly why we went at each other so hard. You don’t prepare differently for somebody you don’t respect. You don’t chase somebody down from behind like your life depends on it if the matchup doesn’t mean something to you. And you definitely don’t spend an entire game trying to physically and mentally break somebody unless you know what they’re capable of doing to you.

We didn’t know how to express that at 16 or 17 years old.

Our way of showing respect was basically: “I’m going to try to kill you tonight.”

Then the other person responded: “Bet.”

That was the relationship.

 

From Penn Hills vs. Woodland Hills to Pitt vs. WVU

There was another layer to it that makes me laugh today.

TuTu became a Pitt guy. I became a West Virginia guy. So looking back, our high school battles almost felt like our own little version of the Backyard Brawl before we even knew where life was taking us.

Penn Hills against Woody High. Drew against TuTu. Eventually Pitt against WVU.

It fit perfectly.

 

The Rivalries You Appreciate Later

As you get older, your perspective changes.

You stop remembering every box score. You stop caring about every argument. You don’t remember every bucket you scored.

But you remember the people who made you compete. You remember the guy who wouldn’t back down. You remember the guy who made you wake up sore the next morning. You remember walking into the gym knowing that somebody on the other side wanted to beat you just as badly as you wanted to beat him.

That’s what I remember about TuTu.

We don’t even really sit around talking about those games when we see each other today. It’s just love.

But I haven’t forgotten them. And I’ll never forget what kind of athlete he was.

I miss the old Penn Hills-Woodland Hills rivalry, but if I’m being specific, what I probably miss most is our matchup inside the rivalry. Because rivalries like that helped make me who I was as a player. So while we’re both older and can finally laugh about all the trash talk, elbows, chase-down blocks and everything else that happened between those lines, I wanted to give William “TuTu” Ferguson his flowers.

TuTu, you were one hell of an athlete.

You were one hell of a competitor. You made me work. You made me better. And whether either one of us would’ve admitted it back then or not, there was always respect underneath the rivalry.

I’m glad we can call each other friends today.

But I still owe you for that damn chase-down block.