A BORN SHOOTER

Casey Jacobsen always has been a long-range plan--from birth, to jump shot, to Stanford and, soon, to NBA arcs of triumph.

You can’t chart the Jacobsen family tree--whistle-toting father and his four sons named in alphabetical order: Adam, Brock, Casey, Derek--and not be reminded of Marv Marinovich and son Todd.

Von Jacobsen hears it all the time.

“That stuff about me and Marinovich, you’d have to know me to understand,” Von says. “I drive the kids hard, but not any harder than most parents with three Division I players. Because I was a Division I player myself. I knew what it took.”

So far, Von Jacobsen, who played at San Diego State, is three for three on the get-the-kids-into-college-free program.

Oldest son Adam received a full basketball ride at Pacific. Brock played at the University of San Diego.

Von hit the father lode with Casey, who, as a sophomore, became the first, first-team Associated Press All-American in Stanford basketball history.

The Jacobsen brothers--Adam, Brock, Casey--have combined for 557 three-point baskets, second most by a collegiate basketball family to the 597 made by the McCarthy brothers, Brendan (St. Anselm, N.H.; 1993-96) and Kevin (New Hampshire, 1989-92).

Von and wife Becky don’t compare their four sons, but they are excited about the youngest prospect, Derek, 14, whom Von is grooming to be a power forward.

It is loosely true what they say about Von: carpenter, builder and molder of men. He did propose to each son in the fifth grade the option of working his fanny off to become a Division I basketball player.

The kids did sacrifice vacations and skateboard time. Von does subscribe to training methods of Marv Marinovich, the fitness guru who engineered son Todd’s rise to high school and collegiate excellence--with well publicized repercussions.

Yes, Von cleared citrus trees in the backyard of the family’s Glendora home to build a state-of-the-art basketball court, complete with breakaway rim and night lights.

Yes, Von was tough on the boys. He did not stand with open arms to accept failure. Not for sons who might one day have to make a bank shot to beat Duke.

“You have to be tough,” Von says. “You have to be tough to play in the Pac-10. When you’re playing Duke one night, Cincinnati the next. UCLA. Arizona. You have to be tough. Casey has been through a lot of those battles.

“My kids all played travel ball. They had a lot of losses and victories by the time they got to high school. They were tough already.”

Von still isn’t reluctant to make blunt assessments.

Take last Saturday, after Stanford had defeated St Joseph’s in an NCAA second-round game at San Diego’s Cox Arena.

Casey scored 21 points in victory but Marvin O’Connor, the man Casey’s was primarily assigned to defend, scored 37.

“Casey couldn’t guard that guy,” Von says frankly.

Yet, two hours after the game, an exhausted Casey emerged from Cox Arena and fell into his father’s arms.

“He just hung on me,” Von recalls. “I felt all the weight of his body on me. I don’t say much to him anymore.”

Long Range--The Plan

Casey and Von say too much is made of “Taj Ma-Hoop,” as it is known, the backyard basketball breeding ground.

“It was not a factory,” Von says.

Casey was different from his brothers. He was a self-starter. The image of robot-like kids doing jumping jacks and push-ups to a father’s commands is not accurate, particularly in Casey’s case.

“I don’t know where that name came from,” Casey says of Taj Ma-Hoop. “It wasn’t my name. I spent hours and hours in my backyard. My dad really didn’t work me out. It was on my own. Most of the time I spent playing there was without him.

“My dream was like any kid’s dream, except my backyard was a little bit more extravagant. It was like having my own park in my own backyard.”

Von says Casey is the Jacobsen son most like him. As a kid, Von says, Casey preferred to work alone.

“Casey was self-driven,” Von says. “He’d almost prefer to go out by himself, when it’s quiet and dark. Then, your mind can wander. I’d wake up in the morning, and he’d be out there by himself. I know that feeling.”

Casey’s bio is the stuff of dreams.

He earned four letters at Glendora. He scored 3,284 points, second on the California state scoring list behind Darnell Robinson of Emeryville.

Casey never knew failure until last year, as a freshman, when he went two for 12 in a second-round NCAA tournament loss to North Carolina.

The loss, on his 19th birthday, devastated him.

“He admitted he’d never been through anything like that,” Von says. “It was a great learning experience for him. That stayed with him all year long. It has certainly driven him for this final run.”

Long Range--The Shot

It’s safe to say Casey has never tripped over the three-point line, arcing 19 feet 9 inches from the basket.

At Maples Pavilion, Stanford’s home court, Jacobsen has taken and made shots from the M on the court, 28 feet from the basket.

Stanford Coach Mike Montgomery used to cringe when Jacobsen launched his bombs, reminding Casey he didn’t get any extra points for longer shots.

Montgomery doesn’t say much anymore.

Jacobsen is a remarkable three-point shooter, having made 47% of his long shots this season.

His shooting form--shoulders square, right elbow over right foot, follow through--should be displayed in all hoop-camp headquarters.

In high school, opposing players did all they could to deny Jacobsen the three-point shot, so Casey just kept stepping back to get a more open shot.

“Why not step back five, six, seven feet and shoot with no one guarding you,” Von says. “Montgomery used to raise his eyebrows. But it’s no harder for Casey. He’s developed that shot. It takes a little more strength. It’s just repetition. He doesn’t have to stand at the 20-foot line.”

Shooting well beyond the arc also stretches opposing defenses and makes it easier for Jacobsen to take players off the dribble to the basket.

If Jacobsen has a weakness, it’s his mid-range game, but even there he is steadily closing the gap from arc to rim.

“I’ve tried not to be just a shooter,” Casey says. “If anything, I learned something from last year. My shot didn’t go [against North Carolina] and I don’t think I did a very good job in getting to the offensive boards, or maybe penetrating, doing other things to get my team to win besides just making three-point jump shots.”

Long Range--The Future

Jacobsen may not be the first Stanford player to leave school with eligibility remaining.

Teammate Jason Collins may beat Casey out of Palo Alto to the NBA. Collins is a senior academically but, because of injuries, has two years of eligibility remaining. Few would blame Jason for going out with twin brother Jarron, especially if Stanford goes to the Final Four or beyond.

But Jacobsen may be the first Stanford player under Montgomery to leave without his degree.

Jacobsen is already committed to returning for his junior year, but hold all bets beyond that.

He admits to being torn. He loves college but in many ways feels exploited by the commercialism of the NCAA tournament, which CBS has paid $6 billion to televise.

“Everyone seems to be getting all the benefits except the players,” he says.

Jacobsen says he would support a players’ union and believes student-athletes should receive a stipend.

If Casey does leave for the NBA after next season, without his degree, Von says his son would work double time to graduate.

“Casey is the kind of guy who would come back right away,” Von says. “He won’t wait 10 years, like Shaq. He’ll do it in as fast a time as he can do it.”

Casey isn’t ready to look much beyond Thursday night’s West Regional semifinal game against Cincinnati at the Arrowhead Pond.

He turned 20 last Monday and faced a final exam in Greek mythology.

Can we let him get through the week first before thinking about next year?

“The upside of college is that there’s nothing like college,” he says. “I’m not going to be foolish and say the NBA is all about the money and all about playing, but it’s a grind. It’s hard. You’re always away from home and you very rarely get to see your friends. That’s the life.

“Yeah, the money is obvious. You sacrifice your friends and your life for that, for playing the game of basketball.

“The upside of staying in college is the exact opposite.”

Opposite?

“We get to live on our own but we don’t have responsibilities. I don’t have to pay my bills.”

So he prefers college over the pros?

“Right now, I do,” he says.

Long Range--The End?

Von can’t speak to what happened between Marv Marinovich and Todd.

“A lot of it has to do with the end result,” Von says. “Todd was a crazy guy at the end. We were never that extreme.”

You look for collateral family damage with the Jacobsens and see none.

Casey Jacobsen seems as well adjusted as your TV set.

You can’t fathom this story ending with naked surfing, busted dreams, psychological second-guesswork and jail time.

This, you are certain, is not that story.

“He tells me he loves me, and I tell him I love him,” Von says of Casey. “I hope there’s a much better relationship. You heard about the Robo-quarterback who never ate a Big Mac. I was never like that.

“I’m trying to do the best I can.”