Maryland reserves Bowie, Tucker try to keep their confidence and playing time consistent

Following Maryland's 73-57 win at Boston College on Jan. 16, Terrapins Coach Gary Williams was asked to evaluate Adrian Bowie and Cliff Tucker, his two junior reserve guards.

Previously plagued by bouts of inconsistency, Tucker and Bowie recently appeared to have taken lengthy strides forward -- as evidenced by their combining for 29 points off the bench against the Eagles.

As Maryland (12-5, 2-1) treks further into its ACC schedule -- the path resumes Saturday at Comcast Center against North Carolina State (13-6, 2-3) -- the Terrapins will need the back-court duo to spell their starters as effectively as they did against Boston College.

The pair's individual talent is not in question. Bowie has proven his ability to defend ruggedly and drive into the lane with abandon. Tucker has flashed quickness and athleticism that might be unmatched on Maryland's roster. But the efficiency of both players is bound to their confidence levels, and maintaining their buoyancy has become a constant challenge.

That being the case, Williams paused briefly before providing his assessment. He had to appreciate the performance he had just witnessed, largely because he knew it might prove as fleeting as it was encouraging.

"Cliff Tucker might be our best athlete coming in off the bench, which is a luxury," Williams said. "And Adrian is just hard to play. He's left-handed, and he's a little different, like most left-handers are. You know, they're hard to guard. You could see the confidence in them. Hopefully they have it now, but tomorrow we'll see."

'Wrong approach'

John Bowie waited for his son, as he does after every Maryland home game, in the front row of the stands adjacent to the tunnel that leads to the Terrapins' locker room. He expected to be greeted by slumped shoulders and a wrenched face, body language that often accompanies an upset defeat.

It was Dec. 30, and Maryland had just suffered a six-point loss to William & Mary. Adrian Bowie logged eight minutes that night, less than half his season average and one-third of the average time he played per contest the year before.

Sure enough, Adrian emerged from the tunnel and headed directly toward his father, shoulders slumped, face wrenched. But there was more, an additional layer of emotional transparency. For the first time John Bowie could remember seeing after a game in which Adrian had played, his youngest son had tears in his eyes.

"He was super, super hurt," John Bowie said. "He was like, 'Dad, I'm not on the floor long enough to get into a rhythm.' And I said: 'Well that's up to you. If you change your mind-set, you'll play.' "

Last season, as the Terrapins defiantly marched to the second round of the NCAA tournament, Adrian Bowie started 28 games and played with all the subtlety of a machete. He drove into the lane -- fiercely, repeatedly -- and frequently exited with a result, be it a basket, an assist or simply a message sent to the opposing front court. "He's always been fearless," John Bowie said. "He's always attacked the rim."

With that reputation in tow, Adrian Bowie entered the offseason intent on expanding his offensive repertoire, and indeed, during preseason workouts he drew praise from Williams and teammates for his improved jump shot.