Before starting in the World Series, Chris Young nearly made a career out of basketball

On the night of Dec. 22, 1999, Roy Williams moved down the sideline at Allen Fieldhouse and made a beeline for Princeton coach Bill Carmody. Williams had just watched his Kansas team roll over its Ivy League opponents, an 82-67 blowout that probably would have been lost to history if not for the performance of a 6-foot-10 sophomore from Highland Park, Texas.

As Williams met Carmody at midcourt, he gestured in the direction of Chris Young, a Princeton center who had finished with 20 points and six rebounds, and had spent most of the night manhandling Kansas’ Eric Chenowith, a 7-footer garnering attention from NBA scouts.

“That guy is so good,” Williams said, looking back toward Young.

On Saturday night in New York that same Chris Young will take the mound in Game 4 of the World Series at Citi Field, the pinnacle of a 12-year career, the fulfillment of a childhood dream.

Young, 36, will pitch just one month after losing his father to cancer and just three years after his own career appeared in peril. But for those who knew Young 15 years ago, during a two-year sojourn at Princeton, the question was not whether Young would ever pitch on this stage or carve out a career as a professional athlete. The question, Carmody says, was more about which sport Young would choose.

“The guy is an NBA player,” Carmody said. “There’s no question about that.”

Fifteen years later, Young’s college basketball career has become a piece of deep prologue, a biographical quirk that gets bandied about when reporters peer back into the past or Young reflects on his time studying politics at Princeton. But for the first 21 years of his life, Young says, basketball was a defining endeavor in his life — a love that stuck with him during his years in baseball.

“It helped me learn to play in front of large crowds and large venues, in high-pressure situations,” Young said this week. “And I think just in terms of the athleticism and being able to move and control my body and focus under pressure, I think there is definitely some parallels.”

There was a time, in fact, where Young thought his future might reside on the hardwood. As a senior at Highland Park High School in Dallas, Young was attracting scholarship offers for both basketball and baseball. But his more prestigious offers came from basketball schools in the Big 12 and SEC. Texas was interested. So was Vanderbilt and a collection of Ivy League schools. But then Young met Princeton baseball coach Scott Bradley, and his plans soon came into focus.

Bradley, a former major-league catcher, was in his early days at Princeton, and he’d gotten word about a smart kid from Dallas, a right-handed pitcher with some size. Bradley began recruiting Young for baseball, but as he learned of his basketball talents, he headed to the office of assistant basketball coach John Thompson III, now the head coach at Georgetown.

Bradley has told this story many times over the years, but in this version, the conversation went something like this:

“What are you guys looking for in your next recruiting class?” he asked

“Size,” Thompson answered.

“How’s 6-10?” Bradley said.

When Young arrived on campus, his schedule took on a familiar routine. In the fall and winter, he would spend his afternoons at basketball practice, scarf down a quick dinner, then meet Bradley for a late-night throwing session. When that was over, Young would retreat to his dormitory room and finish his assigned reading for the next day’s classes.

“Chris loves to compete more than anything else,” said Bradley, who calls Young a little brother. “Needless to say, he’s very intelligent. But his intelligence really comes across in an athletic setting.”

Standing 6 feet 10, it would be easy to envision Young as a classic, plodding center, a basketball archetype who thrived based on his sheer size. Carmody says Young was something else entirely. In two seasons at Princeton, Young averaged 13.4 points per game and shot 33 percent from three-point range. As a freshman, Young led the Tigers to a victory over Texas.

“He could shoot the ball — inside, outside, pass the (heck) out of the ball,” Carmody said. “He really understood how to play. And he was a competitor.”

Carmody also remembers the game at Kansas. Inside Allen Fieldhouse, one of the most intimidating venues in the country, Young might have been the best player on the floor.

“They beat us pretty good,” Carmody said. “But they had a center, and Chris destroyed that guy.”

By the end of his sophomore season, Carmody sat down with Young and his mother, a meeting to discuss his future. According to NBA evaluators, Young projected as a late first-round pick. But Young was about turn 21. He would also be eligible for the major-league baseball draft, where he would be selected by the Pittsburgh Pirates in the third round. Young mulled over the decision, knowing that Ivy League rules would force him to give up basketball if he signed with the Pirates. In the end, he couldn’t say no to baseball.

“At 21 years old,” Young said. “It’s a tough decision to make.”

Two years later, Young would complete his Princeton degree while riding buses in the minors. While his teammates slept in and dreamed about the big leagues, Young was composing a thesis paper studied how Jackie Robinson and the integration of baseball affected racial stereotypes in America.

“If sports didn’t work out,” Young said. “I had an education that was as good as anywhere.”

A few years later, the Sacramento Kings would try to pry Young from baseball once more, offering him a guaranteed two-year contract. But Young was resolute: He thought that he could make it in baseball, that one day he would be pitching in October, taking the mound in a World Series game.

“I think he made the right decision,” Carmody said.

There is one more story, Carmody says. A few years after making his big-league debut, Young was pitching for the San Diego Padres. Carmody had moved on to Northwestern by then, and during a road trip to Wrigley Field, Young stopped by the Northwestern gym in the morning.

“He was shooting around and doing his thing,” Carmody said. “I was dying. He was making every shot. I was like: ‘Get out of here.’ ”

This story was originally published October 30, 2015 at 10:02 PM with the headline "Before starting in the World Series, Chris Young nearly made a career out of basketball."