For a few fleeting moments after Kansas clinched its spot in the Final Four with a last-minute victory against Davidson, Mario Chalmers stood alone. With his shiny white Regional Champions T-shirt covering his game jersey, and a Kansas Final Four hat worn slightly askew, Chalmers turned from his Ford Field locker and gazed around Kansas’ locker room.

The few moments of solitude treated Chalmers just fine.

After all, Chalmers admits he isn’t much of a talker.

He doesn’t offer up philosophical thoughts on basketball like Russell Robinson is prone to do. He doesn’t reminisce about deeply personal memories like Darnell Jackson either.

“I don’t try to boast, I don’t try to brag too much,” Chalmers said. “I just keep quiet.”

By all accounts, Chalmers is a tough guy to get to know. But he actually isn’t, according to the guys who know him best.

Ask sophomore Darrell Arthur, his roommate of two years, or senior Rodrick Stewart, and you’ll hear about a different side of Kansas’ junior shooting guard.

You’ll hear about the guy who comes out of his shell during a game of cards. The guy who continually rips on teammate Brandon Rush for having a crooked arm and teases Matt Kleinmann for having the biggest hat size on the team.

“He loves to play around, he’s one of the most joking guys on the team,” Stewart said. “He’s just so comfortable around the guys.”

Chalmers may not be the most outgoing individual on the Kansas team. But Chalmers is about to be introduced to the nation this weekend. Chalmers was an AP Honorable Mention All-American this season, and this Final Four is stocked with talented guards — freshman Derrick Rose from Memphis, sophomore Ty Lawson from North Carolina and junior Darren Collison from UCLA immediately come to mind.

If Kansas wants to win its third national championship in school history, Kansas’ vocally reluctant shooting guard might have to be the best guard in San Antonio.

Growing up in the Last Frontier

Alaska isn’t exactly a mecca for high school hoops. The harsh winters and sparse population put Alaska at a natural disadvantage.

But with a population close to 600,000 people, Alaska has produced nearly as many NBA players as the state of Kansas during the past 10 years. Carlos Boozer of the Utah Jazz grew up in Juneau, and Trajan Langdon, a native of Anchorage and nicknamed the Alaskan Assassin, played three seasons for the Cleveland Cavaliers earlier this decade.

“I’m not going to say it’s a hotbed,” Kansas coach Bill Self said. “But per capita, they’ve produced some guys.”

Chalmers’ hometown is Anchorage, a midsized municipality of close to 300,000 residents. It’s where Chalmers attended Bartlett High School.

As a young kid, Chalmers would watch Langdon play. Chalmers’ dad, Ronnie, who is now Kansas’ director of basketball operations, coached Langdon when the former Duke star was in high school.

Mario watched him make three after three and said, “that’s going to be me.”

“Just being around him, working out, seeing the type of work ethic he had,” Chalmers said, “I just wanted to emulate him.”

Playing in the obscure outpost of Anchorage, Chalmers made a name for himself while traveling around the country in the summer.

“Every college coach knew exactly who Mario was,” Self said.

Chalmers talent was undeniable. The smooth jumper, the quick hands and the deceptive athleticism — it was all there.

“Certain athletes have a graceful glide to them,” Self said, “and he’s one of those guys”

Gaining experience

Quiet off the court, Chalmers has shown a more ferocious side on the court this season. He’s averaging a career-high 12.7 points per game. In addition to his respected outside game, Chalmers said he’s tried to become more aggressive going to the basket.

“I think that’s just my game, getting to the rack,” Chalmers said.

The three-pointers still come often — he hit six against Texas in the Big 12 Tournament final — but Chalmers says that he’s always tried to attack the rim.

He’s got the story to prove it.

Chalmers’ freshman year of high school, his Bartlett team was playing Kenai, and he found himself on a fast break.

“Dude jumped with me, and I kind of went up and dunked it,” Chalmers said.

It was the first time he dunked on somebody — but not the last.

Heading to San Antonio

Earlier this tournament, Chalmers stood in the Kansas locker room and eyed Rush as Rush spoke with reporters. Rush struggled for a word, and his sentences became jumbled.

“Stuttering Stanley,” Chalmers said, chiding Rush.

“C’mon brotha, let me talk,” Rush said.

It was a rare public display of Chalmers: the jokester. A side his teammates say they see all the time.

”He always has something smart to say,” Arthur said. “He’s a funny guy when you get to know him.”

Now the rest of the college basketball world is about to know Chalmers. The skilled guard, the ferocious competitor — maybe even the subtle jokester.

Earlier this month, a reporter asked Self about Chalmers. After naming all of Chalmers’ attributes for a few moments, Self stopped.

“He’s just a great college guard,” Self said.

Sometimes fewer words mean more.

— Edited by Katherine Loeck