His Arizona roommate and best-buddy since their high school days in Las Vegas, Matt Othick, would be the first to tell you Brian Williams was gifted and talented on the basketball court, a bit of an intellectual in street clothes.

And eccentric to the point of weirdness everywhere.

Such as the time Williams lugged a couple of discarded red bricks to their room and declared them art. Or when Othick came in one day to find a department store manikin staring at him.

It was art, B-Dub told him.

At around 6-foot-11, with a nice jump shot, quickness to the hoop and a thunderous left-handed dunk, Williams had the whole package.

But he was a playful puppy mentally, and though an All-American in 1991, he had better things to do than devote his heart and soul to basketball -- even though he made a fortune in his years in the NBA.

He liked music (his dad, Gene Williams, had been an original member of the 1950s singing group, "The Platters"). Brian also was interested in poetry, cooking and what he considered art.

But above all, he was a free spirit.

I watched "From Glory to Gone," the fine MSNBC documentary on Williams' all too brief life the other night, and like a lot of Arizona fans from the 1990 and 1991 basketball seasons, I kept wondering if this was the same overgrown kid who played for Lute Olson and the Wildcats.

It was a story of shadow, mystery, gloom and wrong.

B-Dub apparently was murdered on his luxury catamaran near Tahiti and a bunch of lesser islands in the South Pacific in the summer of 2002. His girlfriend and a guy Williams hired to captain the vessel were also done away with and evidently tossed overboard in shark-infested waters, never to be seen again.

Williams' older brother, Miles Dabord, formerly known as Kevin Williams, was the chief suspect. But he returned to the U.S. pretending to be his brother, cashed checks on Brian's bank account and then fled to Mexico. Later he reportedly overdosed on prescription drugs obtained in Mexico, lapsed into a coma and died.

So we'll never know what happened on that stupid boat.

B-Dub was the funniest and probably the most charismatic Wildcat athlete I've ever known.

Two incidents always come to mind. I was in the UA locker room once when he showed me a blown-out basketball shoe -- the sole had been torn from the upper part -- and with a serious look on his face, asked if I didn't think it belonged in a museum rather than the trash.

The other was Williams' performance in a 105-94 Arizona win at UCLA in February 1991, in which he personally destroyed the Bruins. I don't believe I have ever seen a basketball player so totally dominate a game.

I remember Williams slamming the ball through the hoop late in the contest and with a smile that stretched from Westwood to Tucson, bent low to the ground, spread his arms like wings and pretended to take off like an airliner.

After turning pro, B-Dub changed his name to Bison Dele in honor of Native American (Cherokee) blood in his heritage. If he had changed it to E.T. in honor of his space alien ancestry, nobody would have been surprised.

There was no way to conduct a serious interview with Brian Williams. He had the attention span of about two questions. Step into his mind and you were entering an uncontrolled environment.

But he was a great kid, the Wildcats won 53 games in two years with him at forward or center and we all hoped he'd have a long and distinguished pro career.

He did OK. He made the usual NBA fortune, although the money didn't mean anything to him -- if I remember correctly, B-Dub once signed over a playoff check to the team clubhouse man.

We heard, after he left UA, that Williams had always suffered depression. Some of the reporters knew about it. Cindy Somers of the Tucson Citizen told me about it, but I had my doubts.

I guess it might explain Williams' moods ranging from Daffy Duck to serious intellect.

He died at 33, that's all I know, and it was much, much too soon for a guy who loved life so much.

Just as tragic, of course, were the deaths of his girlfriend and the guy hired to captain the ship.

Not to mention the chief suspect, who was so confused and perhaps guilt-ridden that he tapped into his brother's bank account, sneaked away to Mexico and od'd on medicines.

I don't remember and never knew Brian Williams, the super-dooper NBA megabucks millionaire, the celebrity who owned a luxury catamaran in the South Pacific.

I just remember a big, goofy kid who had a lot of fun playing college basketball.

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