March 13 (Bloomberg) -- Just once it would be nice if the folks at CBS, which televises the National Collegiate Athletic Association men’s basketball tournament, recognized grunts over greats.

Come next week, when the tournament begins, we will be inundated with pundits professing to know everything about the best players in the land. Like, say, Connecticut’s Hasheem Thabeet and Oklahoma’s Blake Griffin. Or North Carolina’s Tyler Hansbrough and Ty Lawson.

Every team has a star.

But there’s a flip side in the college game, where, for most participants, money isn’t the motivator. Just about every team, even No. 1-ranked North Carolina, employs the services of an under-sized, under-skilled wannabe. It’s grit over gifted.

Just once it would be nice if the basketball-watching and betting world celebrated the walk-ons, those who show up every day armed not with an athletic scholarship, but an insatiable desire to do whatever it takes.

Dick Vitale might not know this kid’s name or game, but he’s out there, every day, alongside the future millionaires, putting out the same effort. Or maybe even more.

I’m referring, in this case, to Marquette sophomore Rob Frozena, a 6-foot-2 guard who, athletically speaking, is better suited to a Division III program. Frozena could have been a star at Loras College in Dubuque, Iowa, or Edgewood College in Madison, Wisconsin. Both wanted him. He wanted more.

“Let’s face it, I knew I was never going to be in the NBA,” Frozena told me the other day. “I’m realistic.”

Dreaming Realist

He’s a realist who dared to dream big. Make that Big East.

Frozena’s father went to graduate school at Marquette. His sister went to Marquette. He, too, opted for Marquette, which awarded Frozena an academic, not athletic, scholarship.

Marquette coach Buzz Williams saw something in Frozena, granting him a spot on the roster with one request. One demand, really.

“To be the greatest teammate,” Frozena said.

That means diving for loose balls in practice. Studying the opposition or sensing when a teammate needs a pep talk. Scolding a superstar for a mental miscue. Sitting on the bench and loving it.

“You always have to do the extra stuff,” Frozena says. “The stuff no one wants to do.”

You’ve got to see the frozen-in-time reaction from Marquette’s starters when Frozena made his first field goal last month.

Bench Bonkers

The bench went bonkers. Frozena saw the photo when it arrived in an e-mail from his mother.

“It means a lot that they there were so excited to see me get that field goal,” he said.

Jack Wooten, a senior walk-on for the North Carolina Tar Heels, can relate.

The 6-foot-2 guard received recruiting letters from several schools, including Washington and Lee in Lexington, Virginia.

Try selling anything other than Carolina blue to a kid who grew up in Burlington, 35 minutes from Chapel Hill. Wooten cried when the top-seeded Tar Heels were upset by Boston College in the second round of the 1994 NCAA tournament.

“I was just devastated,” said Wooten, whose uncle, Richard Vinroot, played for hall-of-fame coach Dean Smith at Carolina and went on to become the mayor of Charlotte.

Wooten admits to letting his mind wander during summer conditioning drills in oppressive heat, wondering what fun friends are having at the beach.

Small Sacrifice

It’s a small sacrifice, Wooten says, for the experiences gained -- things like the Final Four, a pickup game with Barack Obama and the inclusion of his name in a basketball lineage that includes the likes of Larry Brown, Billy Cunningham, Bob McAdoo, James Worthy and some guy named Jordan.

“With the history, it’s hard not to be attracted to that,” he said.

Chatting with Frozena and Wooten prompted me to call an old college pal, Todd Barlok, who spent 1991 and 1992 as a walk-on at our alma mater, Syracuse University. Jim Boeheim, the team’s hall-of-fame coach, started with the program as a walk-on.

To Barlok, March Madness means memories. He can recall, still, the roar of the Carrier Dome before his first game against rival Georgetown. That alone was worth all the work.

“Walk-ons have to be dedicated,” said Barlok, whose teammates included Billy Owens and Lawrence Moten, who both went on to the National Basketball Association. “You’ve got to set a good example.”

Speaking of Moten, Barlok wore No. 21 his first year. Moten wanted it. Barlok switched to No. 11 without complaint. That’s life as a walk-on.

Unchanged Walk-Ons

Barlok still has the old uniform, which one day he’ll show to his three sons.

“It was the short shorts,” he said. “It was one year before the long shorts became de rigueur.”

Styles change. Coaches change. Players change. Systems change. But the qualities of a walk-on stay the same. Hard work. Dedication. Selflessness. Commitment.

The greats will get the attention during the NCAA tournament. Don’t forget to sneak a peek at the bench and recognize the grunts.

(Scott Soshnick is a Bloomberg News columnist. The opinions expressed are his own.)

To contact the writer of this column: Scott Soshnick in New York at ssoshnick@bloomberg.net

Last Updated: March 13, 2009 00:01 EDT