MORGANTOWN — It wasn’t that long ago now, as Hot Rod Hundley tells it, that he made a sizeable donation to the YMCA.

To him, though, it was less of a donation and more, shall we say, just being 55 or so years late with his payment.

“I told them that this should make up for all those quarters I cheated you out of when I used to sneak into the Y as a kid,” Hundley said as he took part in the second annual Bob Huggins Fantasy Camp.

Hundley is a perfect fit for the fantasy camp because he is in the eighth decade of the Rod Hundley Fantasy Life, one that reached its high point a couple of weeks back when it was announced that his number 33 would be retired at West Virginia University.

“That caps off everything that ever happened to me throughout my career,” Hundley said.

Which brings us back to the YMCA, which is where the legend of Hot Rod Hundley really began.

Hundley believes that if it weren’t for the YMCA he might really have ended up racking balls in a pool hall, which is where he spent a good part of his youth when he wasn’t sneaking into the YMCA to use the handball courts.

Hundley had grown up without parents, his mother and father having divorced and him bouncing around in Charleston until some people living on Clendenin Street took him in. He discovered early, about 10, that he was a pretty good athlete because whenever they were choosing up sides at the playground, he was always the first kid picked.

Hundley would often bring his basketball to the YMCA and sneak into the handball courts.

“No baskets, just four walls, and I’d do tricks with the ball in there,” he explained.

This was at a time when the two-hand set shot still was in use, a time when basketball was a straight up game, when no one this side of the Harlem Globetrotters did anything fancy on the court. Hundley found he could be creative even before he went to junior high or high school.

“The first time I remember clowning around was in our first freshman game at the old Field House against Washington and Lee,” Hundley explained. “We were coming down the court and I was in the middle on a fast break. I came up face to face with a defender, did a little shake and he fell down.”

Hundley had a clear path to the basket, but rather than take it, he stopped, reached down, helped the defender up, then went by him to finish the play.

“The crowd loved it,” Hundley said, then recalled thinking, “What have I got here? I think I’ll try something else.”

And so the clown prince of basketball was born. With Hot Rod Hundley you never knew what was coming, except for a laugh.

He could play, make no doubt about that. In high school there were a couple of state championships, in college there were a few All-American honors, a points scored record at WVU and enough promise that he became the No. 1 pick of the Minneapolis (soon to be Los Angeles) Lakers in the NBA draft.

It was the kind of stuff that could go to your head, but Hundley was always just a down home West Virginian who couldn’t take much of anything too serious.

“Do you know how I found I was the first pick in the NBA draft?” he said. “I was driving down a highway in West Virginia and I heard it on the radio.”

No national television. No David Stern.

Just Hundley, alone in his car. He had to call Minneapolis to verify it was right.

Hundley became Pete Maravich before there was Pete Maravich. He scored his points but more than that he entertained the fans with hook shots from the free throw line and shots from his knees. If it could bring a laugh, he’d try it.

“One game we’re up 20 points on Pitt in the Field House and Fred Schaus has me on the bench. Well, I’m way down at the far end and whenever Fred looks away, I jump up and start leading the crowd in a “We Want Hundley” cheer. He’d look back and I’d just be standing there.

“That went on for a while and finally I moved down and sat next to Fred. There was still a sellout crowd in the stands and I said to him, ‘Coach, what do you think people came here to see, this game or the show?’ He looked at me and said, ‘OK, go back in … but don’t get hurt.’”

Hundley left West Virginia to Jerry West, who in turn left it to Rod Thorn. Schaus left for L.A. and Hundley wound up out there with him after playing a year under the legendary George Mikan, who coached Minneapolis in his first year of retirement.

“I didn’t mess around much in the NBA,” Hundley said.

It was professional basketball, which was different.

“In college, you may play against a guy once or twice. In the pros, you may play against him for 15 years,” Hundley said.

That meant no showing anyone up, so he played mostly straight until his knees went out and he was forced into the broadcast booth, learning the trade under the great Chick Hearn in L.A.

He joined the Jazz when they were established in New Orleans and went with them to Utah, retiring after this season to spend time with his grandchildren. He broadcast more than 3,000 games for the Jazz.

E-mail Bob Hertzel at bhertzel@hotmail.com.