Jan. 31, 2007

By Adam Lucas

Most college students graduate with little idea of what they'll become.

Not Dewey Burke. He already knows exactly what he'll be. I know it. You know it.

No matter what he does, no matter where he goes, no matter what he accomplishes in life, when Burke returns to Chapel Hill people will say one thing when they spot him: "That's the guy who used to get us the biscuits."

"Of course," Wes Miller said. "He is Biscuits. That's just what he is."

He is a little more than that. But it's the breakfast food that enabled him to hear his name chanted in the Smith Center Wednesday night.

Burke, as usual, had just provided discount biscuits for Tar Heel fans by hitting the 3-pointer that eclipsed the 100-point mark in an eventual 105-64 thrashing. As part of a season-long promotion, that means two sausage biscuits at Bojangles for $1.00 on Thursday. That's a savings of exactly $0.79 over the regular price, a discount that sets off wild Smith Center celebrations.

As the Hurricanes toed the line to shoot free throws on their next possession, it began softly in the student section behind the Miami basket and then spread to the risers.

"Dew-ey Bur-ke!"

He smiled. Just a little.

"I'm happy to give people their food," Burke said. "As we got closer, everybody on the bench kept saying, `Get ready, you've got to get us over 100.'

"I always look at the basket. If I touch it, I look. And if there's a glimmer of light, I'm going to put it up."

Whoa, wait a minute. A walk-on gunner? That can't be right.

Except that's what he is coached to do. Burke only moonlights a handful of times per year as the Biscuit Bandit. His job in practice--every single day from October to April--is to serve as a member of the Blue team, the group charged with preparing Carolina's starters for the next game.

Over the past two seasons, he's been J.J. Redick in practice. He's been Sean Singletary. But his favorite?

"Guillermo Diaz from Miami last year," he says. "There was no shot he wouldn't take. The week of that game, Coach Robinson said, `Every time you touch it, shoot it.' That wasn't hard. Being a shooter is fun, because when I'm a guy like Redick or Diaz, no matter how far I shoot it from, Coach Williams won't say anything because I'm just doing my job."

For big games, he'll visit the basketball office film library and watch extra tape of the player he's supposed to emulate. If that player exclusively drives left, Burke wants to only drive left. If he only shoots off the dribble, Burke will spend the next couple practices doing exactly that.

It's the kind of preparation you'd expect from a former football player at Fairfield University who transferred after the Stags eliminated their gridiron program. He transferred to Carolina for the education, not the basketball, and joined the junior varsity program on a whim.

He's the oldest of four, including 13-year-old Brady, who is "a normal bratty teenager," according to Dewey.

Understand this: "normal bratty teenager" is an exceptionally high compliment. When Brady was a toddler, he was diagnosed with muscle cancer. Four years later, he was back in the hospital with a rare blood disease.

"I was just a kid," Dewey says. "I just knew everyone else was sad, so I was sad. Brady had to go to chemotherapy every Wednesday and one week my parents asked if I wanted to go. When I saw what was happening, how hard he cried and how he looked at my mom like he couldn't understand what was happening, it was so hard to watch. I'm the oldest. I'm supposed to take care of my brother, and to be helpless to do anything was the worst feeling in the world.

"It's something I don't forget. If I'm having a tough day or Coach is getting on me, nothing I ever deal with will be as bad as what Brady had to deal with."

So now you know who you're cheering for.

He can be Biscuits to you and your buddies, and he'll give you a high five tomorrow on campus when you spot him slushing through the ice. Maybe he'll take a little bit of pride in being one of the most popular basketball walk-ons since Julius Peppers (for slightly different reasons).

But he'll be much prouder of being a big brother.

Adam Lucas's third book on Carolina basketball, The Best Game Ever, chronicles the 1957 national championship season and is available now. His previous books include Going Home Again, focusing on Roy Williams's return to Carolina, and Led By Their Dreams, a collaboration with Steve Kirschner and Matt Bowers on the 2005 championship team.