This makes absolutely no sense.

You tell me how Russell Wesley goes from an a 6-foot-3, senior at Provo High School who averaged just eight points per game, a guy who couldn't get through to any college if they saw his name on their caller ID, to starter at Utah Valley State College in the school's inaugural Division I year as a sophomore.

How does that happen?

In 1999, when Wesley graduated, he was just like the majority of high school seniors. He just wanted to play basketball. Anywhere.

But when college coaches made their recruiting lists, none of them included Wesley -- because he is a late bloomer.

In sports, there is a belief that if you don't have a scholarship lined up during your senior year, you're finished.

Rubbish.

Consider the career of Russell Wesley. Even though Wesley's older brother Mekeli helped Provo to a pair of state 4A state titles and played at BYU, Russell found that having a successful older brother mattered little to college coaches.

So Mekeli took Russell to UVSC and helped his younger brother get a tryout. Russell was one of about 80 hopefuls. He was still around when then-coach Jeff Reinert whittled the crowd down to about 20. But UVSC could only keep one or two players and Wesley wasn't one of them.

So he blended in with the majority. He played in a city league and then went on a mission.

When Wesley returned from his church mission, he tried out again at UVSC and this time he bucked the odds and made the team.

Last year as a freshman, he averaged 2.5 points and 3.0 rebounds in an average of eight minutes per game.

But when UVSC opened the 2003-04 season at Idaho State last week, Wesley was in the starting lineup.

It's fascinating to watch, the evolution of a late bloomer. A relative no-namer in high school suddenly shows up to make an impact in college.

Wesley's case is hardly an isolated one. Provo's B.J. Chandler was a late bloomer. He was a decent player in high school, but few could have pegged him to play college ball. He was on Southern Utah's team that went to the NCAA tournament in 2001.

Springville's Robbie Warren was considered a project in high school -- you know, one of those guys a coach keeps around because he's 6-6. But by the end of his senior year he had shown enough potential that he earned a shot at UVSC and now plays at Southern Utah.

I myself am a late bloomer. It's true. In high school I weighed 175 pounds, I struggled to put on weight. Now I have no problem. I'm 200 and I anticipate by after Thanksgiving I'll be 210.

But perhaps there's no better example of a late bloomer than Ono Lobendahn.

Ono is the son of Provo High assistant basketball coach Kelly Lobendahn, but that didn't guarantee him a spot on the team.

"I basically cut him as a junior. He was the last man I kept," said Provo coach Craig Drury. "When I asked how he was getting home from school he told me with his dad, so I said, 'If you're waiting around (for a ride), you might as well practice.' "

Lobendahn had made the team and turned into an average player when he graduated from Provo in 1996.

How times have changed.

Ono went on an LDS church mission and when he returned had grown three inches and was now 6-5. He got a tryout at Yavapai Junior College in Prescott, Ariz. He impressed the coaches enough to earn a scholarship. He is now in his sophomore year at Yavapai.

"It was just his athletic ability that impressed us more than anything else," said Yavapai assistant coach Jeff Renegar. "He comes off the bench for us and is a great rebounder and defender."

There are many Wesleys and Lobendahns around the country. Not invisible in high school, but flying under the college radar. Despite any setbacks have had the courage to keep trying.

Dallas Brown never played high school basketball when he attended Box Elder, but what does that matter? Brown is on UVSC's roster.

Late bloomers are out there every where, flying under the radar and inspiring the rest of us to go for it.

Their example tells us that it's never too late to go to college. That you can still learn to play the guitar, even though you have kids. That that just because you're 45 doesn't mean you can't run a marathon.

Late bloomers never worry about how old they are. They don't pay attention to those who say their athletic clock expired when they graduated from high school, because they reside in their own time zone.

They have interpreted "No" as meaning "Maybe later."

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