Alumni Spotlight: Alex Webber

Jason Sutherland was an all-conference guard at Mizzou in the mid-1990s, beloved by Tiger fans but a lightning rod for opposing team fanbases.

And not without reason.

OSU players described him as "dirty" and "overly aggressive" with an affinity for leg whips and other such rule bending. As a freshman he thwarted a layup by tackling Brooks Thompson into the first row of the bleachers, and as a sophomore he mixed it up with Andre Owens during a dead ball.

By his senior season, Sutherland had reached full on villain status in Stillwater. When the Tigers visited Gallagher-Iba Arena on Jan. 11, 1997, Cowboy fans booed the 6-foot-1 guard every time that he touched the ball.

Eddie Sutton, 27 years into his hall of fame coaching career, had never seen a crowd spew such venom toward one individual. "Does that happen other places?" he asked Mizzou beat reporters.

"I don't think I'm a dirty player," Sutherland told the press. "I work hard, and I may run into a few people. But I think that's part of basketball."

But this story isn't about Jason Sutherland – it's about Alex Webber. Alex Webber vs Kansas

You might remember Webber as an impactful yet oft-injured forward who helped lead Sutton's Cowboys to three NCAA tournaments from 1996-2000. He was freshman when OSU made its Big 12 debut and a senior in GIA's final season before renovation.

It's far more likely you remember him as the guy who put Sutherland in a headlock.

With apologies to Ed Gallagher, John Smith and company, it might be the famous headlock in GIA history.

Webber was a rookie forward, averaging anywhere from 10-20 minutes off the bench.

On this night, late in the first half, he went up for a rebound and landed with the ball tucked under one arm and Sutherland's head beneath the other.

The crowd roared its approval.

A whistle. A foul -- on Sutherland, neck still pinned by Webber's massive forearm.

The building shook.

So did Mizzou coach Norm Stewart. His screams drowned by crowd noise; Stewart pantomimed his disapproval to referees by reenacting the headlock on assistant coach Kim Anderson.

An hour later, OSU's Chad Alexander sank a last-second shot to give the Cowboys their first ever Big 12 conference victory, but Webber's "hammerlock" (as Stewart called it afterward) was the game's most memorable play.

"That picture was in every sports page across the country," Webber said. "I know this because every OSU basketball fan sent that picture in."

People are still talking about it 28 years later.

Webber – who recently opened his own specialty meat market in downtown Stillwater – says it comes up at least once a month.

"The second day we were open, we had a couple walk in and say: 'We heard the guy that got Jason Sutherland in a headlock just opened up a meat store," Webber laughed. "Another guy came in and said he's still got it as a screensaver on his computer!"

However, these days Webber is building a reputation for something entirely different – his food.

"We've become known as the "Chicken Bomb Kings," he said, describing one of his signature items. "Two chicken breasts stuffed with smoked cheddar cheese, bacon wrapped and perfectly seasoned. In the two months that we've been open, we've sold over 800 of them."

Cajun Pork and Pineapple Sausage also top the list of best-sellers.

His store -- Primetime Meat & Wine -- specializes in quality meats, seafood, wine, grilling and kitchen products.

"It's a lot of hard work," he said. "But we have so much fun, too."

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"Primetime" is nod to Webber's high school nickname and a thank you to the friends back in Searcy, Ark. who helped inspired the dream and make it a reality.

Webber was a very good basketball player growing up but had a way of taking it up a notch against the biggest and best competition. He grew to 6-foot-10 by his senior year, won a state championship and became a high school All-American.

"I was recruited by what felt like everybody," he said.

The Webbers hung a giant US map and filled it with colored thumbtacks, each representing the location of the schools that had visited, written letters or offered scholarships. In the beginning, there were a lot of tacks.

"(My dad) insisted on a very structured, regimented recruiting," he explained. "At this date, we're going to narrow down to 50 (schools), at this date 30, 20, 15, 10, 5…"

Webber was down to three tacks (West Lafeyette, Ind., Lubbock, Texas and Stillwater, Okla.) when Lonnie Webber threw him a curveball.

"He said, 'If you go anywhere in this area, and kind of motioned his hands in a circle, I can come to every game. But you can do whatever you want.'"

Oklahoma State – a six-hour drive from Searcy, Ark. – was the only pin inside the circle.

"Family is priority to me and always has been," Webber said. "He didn't make the decision, but I'm glad that that he posed it the way that he did."

No matter what day of the day week, Lonnie never missed a home game. Alex – now a father of two – has taken the same approach to parenthood.

"I've never missed one of my kids anythings," he said. "I had a surgery one time, and I got out of the hospital and walked into an away game for my daughter's high school. Everybody's like, 'Are you serious?' I hadn't missed one yet, and I wasn't missing this one either. I got it from him."

Webber was rated the fourth-best power forward in the Class of 1996 but, early on in his college career, confidence outpaced competence.

"If they have a stat for most times getting dunked on, I have the school the record," he said. "I'm not kidding… I tried to block every shot."

One of those dunks came through the rim with such force that it broke his nose. He's forgotten the specific game but not what happened next.

"The next morning," he remembered, "Walking down the hallway to the locker room, I hear 'Ohhhhh!' and then a pause. Then 'Oh!!!!' and another pause. I open the door and there's my teammates, rewinding and playing, rewinding and playing."

Injuries were a constant in Webber's OSU career – more on that later – but he was a key contributor in all four seasons and helped the Cowboys to an Elite Eight appearance as a senior.

"Basketball is great," Webber said. "I love it. But humanity, the people, the camaraderie, the locker room, the relationships are my favorite part."

Especially the fans.

"In big games, the student section is first-come, first-served, so kids would camp out with tents for a week preceding the game," he said. "My senior year, I was on my way to practice on one of those days and, on a whim, walked up to one of the tents."

Inside was a TV, a video game console, a love seat – no doubt plucked from the side of the road – and one very surprised occupant. Webber remembers it vividly:

"He was like 'Are you serious?' He pointed at the TV, and he pointed at me. He's playing NCAA '99, and I'm on the video game.

"I said: 'I want you to know that this is what I'm going to remember the most about playing basketball here at OSU, is you guys doing this for us.' That's something I'll never forget."

Fast forward to game day and the student was sitting on the front row. Webber sidled up to him for a fist bump before returning to the layup line.

"His friends are like 'No way!'" Webber laughed. "I couldn't tell you what he looked like, but I've got the tent etched in my memory."

Webber and many of the other former Sutton era players stay connected through group texts and occasional get-togethers.

"There are a few teammates that I stay in very close contact with," he said. "There are some that I don't talk to but maybe once a year, but when we do, it's great. I have other teammates that I didn't even play with – like from the Big Country era – but we still call each other teammates."

Scott Pierce, an OSU forward from 1993-95, is one such example.

"(Early in my career) I can remember calling him, complaining about Coach Sutton, the way he was treating me," Webber said. "Scott's response was, 'Dude, he does that to everyone. Don't think you're special when you're not special. Do what you're supposed to do. You got a job.' That's what maturity and age did for me through Scott, Bryant, Randy Rutherford or whoever.
Alex Webber with Eddie Sutton

Like his predecessors, Webber came to appreciate Sutton's no-nonsense approach.

"He was like a dad, very paternal," Webber said. "When you did something wrong, you got in trouble. When you did something right – that's what you're supposed to do. You're supposed to go to class. You're supposed to run the play right. You're supposed to make the layup. You're supposed to dunk hard, make your free throws, or whatever. You don't need a pat on the back every time you do something right. But, like a dad, when you did something wrong, he'd definitely let you know and hold you accountable. I think that's what everyone who played for Eddie admired."

Webber remembers Sutton's lighter side, as well:

"Pregame, you're supposed to be really serious and focused," he said. "We never were. Ever. We clowned. We're in the locker room stretching, and we would tell jokes back and forth."

Sutton walked in on one such occasion.

"He said 'What is going on?' And he looked mad," Webber remembered. "But I took it on the chin, and I said 'Coach, I was telling a joke.' And he's like, 'Well, I like jokes.' I was like 'Oh no, no, no, no.' He said, 'Tell me this joke that everybody loves so much.' So I told him the joke, which was mostly clean, luckily. He goes 'You guys get serious,' and then he walked out. A few minutes later I heard him go into the coaches room and tell everybody the joke."

Sutton's players would have run through a brick wall for him. In fact, Webber more-or-less did during one practice his senior year.

"(Roy Candley) told Coach Sutton that he didn't take charges, so Coach Sutton called me over – because I was that kind of guy – and he said 'Knock 'em on his rear end!'"

Webber obliged, or at least attempted to; Candley was listed at 7-foot-2 and 380 pounds.

"I lowered my shoulder, he stepped into me, and my back folded up like an accordion," Webber said. "But he didn't budge. I laid on the floor sobbing. I couldn't walk for a week."

After college, Webber went on to play professionally in far-off places like France, Belgium, Switzerland, Germany and even Iran, but the money wasn't enough to compensate for the physical toll that basketball was taking on his body.

"I'm a walking catastrophe," he said. "Two back (injuries), three knees and an ankle, so far. A partially torn Achilles."

Webber spent three months in a body cast after his most recent back surgery, which involved two rods, eight screws and five fusions. Each week, he endures two hours of "insanely-not-fun" massage therapy in hopes of avoiding another.

Those injuries do have a silver lining. Without them, Webber might have never ended up with his wife, Denise.

"My freshman year, she was one of the student trainers," he said. "Taping ankles, getting ice packs, heating elements, tens units, setting up all those things."

Remember that dunk to the face? In the aftermath, Denise was also tasked with driving him to Tulsa for regular appointments with a neurosurgeon.

"Through that process, we became really good friends," he said. "The next year, we bumped into each other at Lights on Stillwater during the first week of school, and just caught up on summer. Then again a week later. I asked her out on Sept. 22, 1997 -- I don't know how I remember that -- and we've been married now for over 25 years."

The wedding took place before Webber's senior year. Denise – now president and CEO of Stillwater Medical Center – was one of the unsung heroes in the Cowboys' Elite Eight run that season.

"I needed to be coddled like a baby that year because it was a season full of injuries,"
Webber said. "And not just as a trainer but someone who could mentally help me get through it, as well."

Webber did everything he could to stay on the court, including regular rounds of acupuncture, but was never near 100 percent.

"There were quite a few games I didn't get to play because of injury," he said. "I lost the starting spot to Fredrik Jönzén, who was a better player. It was tough, but (Denise) was always there for me. Always has been."

The couple have two children now.

Daughter Haylee (23) played basketball at Oklahoma Baptist and recently became a mother, herself.

"I'm not old enough to be called grandpa," Webber said. "So I'm a Papa."

Son Hudson, is a high school freshman who has found his niche as a tuba player in the marching band.

Webber relishes the 13 years that he spent with them as a stay-at-home dad.

"It was a blessing for our family," he said. "I don't think anybody ever saw it coming, but it's what our family needed – for my back to heal, for my wife to grow in her business and for our kids… I got to watch my son grow up and got to support Haylee as she grew older."

And he was able to check a very important item off his to-do list. Webber was 10 credits away from a degree when he left OSU in the spring of 2000, and more than a decade later, decided to do something about it.

"It was a no-brainer. I just needed to finish," he said. "I was too close."

He worked mostly in secret until Christmas Day 2012 when he presented his mother with a box.

"Inside was my diploma," he said. "I can remember her sobbing."

Oklahoma State and basketball are still a part of his life. The Webbers have season tickets for Cowboy Basketball – center court, just above the original GIA roofline.

"I like the top-down view, because the X's and O's," Webber said. "I love to watch plays develop."

Once a basketball player, always a basketball player.

"I've been out of the game so long but it's still in me," Webber said. "I played pickup ball with my daughter at the YMCA with the old men group… I ran my mouth like I was Larry Bird. I hadn't touched the ball in eight years, but I ran my mouth the whole time. You can't shut it off."

At home, Webber keeps a framed jersey from his senior night on display along with a handful of other mementos from his OSU career, but there's a gaping hole in his collection.

"If anybody reading this knows of an autographed basketball from the 2000 Elite Eight team, I can't find one," he said. "That was the year before the plane crash. There are a few signatures on there that I can never, ever get back… That's what I would want to display, more than anything, is that senior year, because it was a true family."

Oklahoma State University Athletics

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