The questions come rapid fire, but Chris Wilcox just leans back in his Georgia Dome locker and smiles, a lone strand of basketball net sticking out from his white ball cap worn backward -- the cap that was handed to him just seconds after the Maryland Terrapins won their first national championship. Across the room, Steve Blake and Byron Mouton answer countless variations of questions that all seem to end with "How does it feel?" Drew Nicholas, the human quote machine, holds court in the middle of the room, while Tahj Holden roams around with a cell phone to his ear and Ryan Randle hams it up with his buddies from the end of the bench.

But as usual, the Terp drawing the biggest crowd is Juan Dixon. Actually, make that Juan Dixon’s empty chair. The senior shooting guard, the man who poured in 155 points in his last six college games, is nowhere to be found. And now the 15 or so reporters and cameramen who’ve gathered around that purple folding chair are getting restless.

"When are we getting Juan?" somebody asks beleaguered Maryland sports information director Kevin Messenger, the bearer of bad news. "You’ll get him when the NCAA is done with him," he replies.

This isn’t exactly a Disney moment.

Juan Dixon, you’ve just been named Most Outstanding Player of the Tournament. What are you going to do next?

I’m going to … pee in a cup!

"The locker room is closing in five minutes," says Messenger, drawing groans from the sweaty scribes. Random drug testing -- what a buzz kill. "Are we gonna get Juan or what?" asks Annoyed Reporter No. 3.

"Rules are rules," Messenger answers, which means the NCAA isn’t about to keep the Maryland locker room open one second longer than the designated 30 minutes -- Juan or no Juan. Never mind that by the time Dixon has made the obligatory appearance at the official (read: boring) post-game press conference and headed off for the bathroom, there is no time left to entertain reporters in the locker room. At least big Lonny Baxter makes a cameo before the NCAA urine control team tracks him down. (So that’s why they call it No. 1.)

Is Juan gonna show? "Wrap it up -- the locker room is closing," Messenger warns. "Juan will be available for five minutes out in the hall."

Finally, progress. Like a herd of cattle, the Juanny Come Lately contingent shuffles out onto the cold concrete and sets up shop in front of a lone empty chair sitting against the cinderblock wall. By now the group has swelled to more than 20 tired souls, all vying for that one quick sound bite before calling it a wrap.

Several minutes pass, and still no Juan. Standing in the middle of the hall, Terps coach Gary Williams answers questions about the skinny guard with the buttery jumper and the heart as big as the bonfire that is already burning back in College Park.

Suddenly, there is movement along the wall over by the empty chair. "Give him room people!" A dozen camera lights click on at once as the microphones move in a little closer … .

Five minutes isn’t much. But give five minutes to the best player on the best team in the country, and a lot can happen. Ask Siena. Ask Wisconsin. Ask Kentucky. Ask UConn. Ask Kansas. Ask Indiana.

Juan Dixon always shows.

Sue Hovey is a senior editor at ESPN The Magazine. E-mail her at sue.hovey@espnpub.com.