Chris Arcidiacono is finally out of his brothers shadow and growing into his role at Villanova

INDIANAPOLIS — The growth chart resides in the laundry room of the Arcidiacono home, the doorjamb lined with marks for each of the six children. Every year when Chris, the youngest, lined up for his measurement, he’d excitedly ask his father where he compared to his big brother, Ryan, at the same age. “He was always like three inches shorter than Ryan but I’d say, ‘You’re right there, pal. You’re right there,’’ Joe says.

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Measuring up to Ryan has always been the bar set above Chris Arcidiacono’s head. He considered it more motivation than burden, but plenty others tried to twist it around. In high school, opposing student sections loved nothing more than to chant, “You’re not Ryan” or “Family letdown,” and when Baby Arch enrolled at Villanova, more than a few people pointed out that he was not exactly Ryan 2.0.

But after a lifetime of living in Ryan’s shadow, Chris is finally stepping into his own spotlight. With Collin Gillespie out for the remainder of the season with a torn MCL, Jay Wright has turned to Chris as his replacement. Prior to Gillespie’s injury, a seven-minute outing in junk time in a 26-point win over Hartford marked Chris’ high-water mark for playing time. In the Wildcats’ last three games, ho-hum outings in the Big East and NCAA tournaments, he has averaged 19.6. In the first 10 minutes of the Wildcats’ game against North Texas on Sunday night, Chris drained two 3s, earning his first NCAA Tournament buckets. Asked to recall the first time that Wright called his number, Chris shares the story with all of the enthusiasm of a man who has just found a nice cantaloupe at the grocery store. “All year the coaches told me to be ready,’’ he says. “Coach told me that he could throw me in at any point. He pointed at me during the Providence game, and said, ‘Arch, let’s go.’ So I went in.’’

“Let me guess. You had to pull every word out of him,’’ Joe surmises accurately about his son, who is polite if not effusive. In a house full of big personalities, Chris always has been the familial stoic. Joe figures that very well could be the plight of being tied for sixth. (He and sister Courtney are twins.) You learn to roll with the punches when the house swirls in perpetual movement. “We’re flying to France, and you’re still at the house,’’ Joe says, making the “Home Alone” analogy. Such go-with-the-flow attitude, though, has served Chris well as he has charted his own path, a road slightly less gilded than Ryan’s.

Ryan’s career read like some sort of Paul Bunyan urban myth tale: a triple-double as a sophomore in a state playoff game, a 35-point outing the night after getting eight stitches in his face during a grassroots tournament. Chris, six years younger, watched it all up close, serving as the water boy for Neshaminy High School. By the time Ryan was a junior in high school, Billy Donovan practically lived at the Neshaminy High gym in suburban Philadelphia. Desperate to woo the guard to Florida, Donovan beat Ryan to his pre-class workouts, the coach seeing in the hard-working guard a little bit of himself. Once Wright got involved, though, no amount of squatting could convince Ryan to go to Gainesville. Joe played football at Villanova, met his wife, Patti, there, and his son grew up dreaming of playing for the Wildcats.

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Ryan Arcidiacono did not merely play for Villanova; he personified it. Wright named him as a captain as a freshman and dubbed him “Mr. Villanova” as a senior, the two growing so close as Ryan helped steer the program out of a 13-19 finish to a national title, people joked Ryan was Wright’s third son. His flip pass to Kris Jenkins summed up his career entirely, a selfless move made by a player who had every right to take the last shot in a national title game.

Chris, 15 at the time, rode the 2016 train all the way to its finale, and he counts the scrunched-up family ride to Louisville for the Sweet 16 and Elite Eight among his fondest memories. Mostly because he wasn’t stuck in a middle seat. “I got lucky,’’ he says. “I was on the end.’’ The six-year gap between the brothers erased what could have been natural sibling jealousy, Chris giddy at Ryan’s success and Ryan later hoping that Chris would match it.

But like the boy who could never quite reach his big brother on the growth chart, Chris didn’t follow his brother’s trajectory in basketball either. “I absolutely felt bad,’’ Ryan says. “Not bad like you have to live up to me, but bad that he has to go through it.’’ Chris never complained or whined. He understood. He needed time to grow — literally and figuratively, and despite averaging an eye-popping 26 points as a senior, most of his offers came from Patriot League and Atlantic 10 schools. Chris dreamed bigger, so he spent a year at prep school, hoping he could raise his profile. Joe remembers walking into a gym one night and spying Villanova assistant Mike Nardi. “Who you here to see?” Joe asked. “Your son,’’ Nardi replied.

Nardi liked Chris’ physical skills — he could catch and shoot 3s, score off the dribble, and at 6-5 had finally jumped over the 6-3 Ryan — but what really impressed the former Villanova point guard was Chris’ sense of the game. He had that same IQ that Ryan had, an ability not just to see the court, but also think the next move. He also was equally unselfish and respected by his teammates.

Being an Arcidiacono anywhere in college basketball was going to be difficult; being an Arcidiacono at Villanova was asking for it. “Ryan’s little brother, I heard it so much growing up, it didn’t bother me,’’ Chris says. “But I grew up watching Villanova. That was my dream to play there.’’

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The Villanova coaching staff did not pull any punches when the family visited. Wright explained the program was different when they came in 2012 with Ryan, and the family read between the lines. This was a program that now regularly recruited pros, and given his skill set, Chris probably would need some time to find a place. “It’s like if your dad was an NBA player and you’re following in his footsteps,’’ Nardi says. “The struggle is if the person following is confident enough and mature enough to not get caught up in it, and not put pressure on themselves. Chris, he’s his own person. He knew his journey was going to be different than Ryan’s. He was willing to accept that, but not be satisfied with it.’’

Parked deep on the bench last year, Chris made but eight appearances and averaged 2.4 minutes per game. When the season ended because of COVID-19, Chris headed home. A family friend has a gym the Arcidiaconos have used for years, and all through quarantine, Chris worked out — almost daily with John O’Connor, a former assistant coach at Georgia Tech and Lafayette who now works for a search firm — and frequently with his big brother, who now plays for the Chicago Bulls. Ryan worked with Chris on his ball-handling and pull-up jumpers. They played games, sometimes to 10, sometimes half-court and sometimes full. In the NBA, Ryan is more like Chris than the college star he was (he averages 11 minutes per game) but he’s in the NBA. He knows a thing or two. “I wanted to beat him up a little bit, physically and mentally,’’ Ryan says. “Not to be a big brother, but to prepare him for those situations.’’

I love it. That Villanova culture. Wouldn’t expect anything different https://t.co/aMscIFJcwP

— Ryan Arcidiacono (@RyArch15) March 22, 2021

Chris didn’t know if and when an opportunity might arise, but he returned to Villanova like a good Boy Scout — prepared for anything. The moment arrived when Gillespie went down against Creighton in the regular-season home finale, and Justin Moore a game later, in the first half against Providence. Wright called for Arcidiacono in the game against the Friars, and the sophomore played 25 minutes. Wright told him he’d get his first start in the next game, under the bright lights of Madison Square Garden, in the Big East tournament. The Arcidiaconos have started referring to Chris as Chad, the pool boy, as played by Pete Davidson on “Saturday Night Live.” “Julius Louis Dreyfuss is like, ‘No, we can’t do this anymore,’ and he’s like, ‘Ok.’ That’s Chris,’’ Joe says. “We’re in bed around 11, and he FaceTimes us before the Big East tournament. Patti is like, ‘Are you nervous?’ And he says, ‘No.’ That’s it. Just no. He’s starting in Madison Square Garden in the Big East tournament.’’

Asked about his calm, Chris goes straight into his brother’s ready-made toolbox of answers, referring to his desire to simply play hard and “play Villanova basketball.’’ Maybe this one time, at least, there’s something to it. The coaching staff is not asking Chris to score 10 points a game — or even score, really. They want him to initiate the offense, play hard defense and shoot only when he’s open. It sounds simple enough, but really plenty of guys would have a hard time accepting such a role, particularly on this NCAA Tournament stage. Everyone wants their shining moment, and most want at least a few buckets. Chris splashed those two 3s against North Texas, the sum total of his offense. And he doesn’t care. “We like to look at it as a high level of emotional intelligence,’’ Nardi says. “You have to be willing to do what it takes and fight off the urge to do what everyone else is telling you you should be doing. This isn’t his whole career. One day we hope he becomes Collin Gillespie or Justin Moore, but that’s not who he has to be for us right now. And he gets that. That takes a really special player.’’

The real world sets in on Saturday for Villanova. Not to diminish the talents of Winthrop or North Texas, the Wildcats’ first two opponents in the NCAA Tournament, but they are not Baylor. The Bears thrive off of defense, Davion Mitchell, MaCio Teague and Jared Butler some of the best defenders in the country. Perhaps Arcidiacono’s best stat line since he has been pressed into service is that he has committed but one turnover. That will be decidedly harder to replicate against the Bears.

No one expects him to be fazed. When Ryan went off to college, Joe decided it would be fun to enjoy a little father-son bonding time, so he decided to teach Chris how to play golf. His prep school required him to play two sports, so after basketball, Chris joined the golf team. Joe and Patti were there for his first match — “We’re the dorks that do that,’’ Joe says — and when Chris stepped on the first tee, Joe was a near wreck. He had never been in a competitive golf match, and Joe was terrified he’d whiff. “He stripes a nice drive,’’ Joe says. “So I texted him that before the NCAA Tournament. Like why would you be nervous if you could do that? He writes back, ‘Yeah. I’m fine.’ That’s it. Like this is no big deal. He’s unbelievable, that kid.’’

Or maybe he’s just ready. After all, he has been waiting to measure up his whole life.

(Photo: Kirby Lee / USA Today Sports)

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