As the St. John’s and Georgetown basketball teams started their pregame warm-ups at Madison Square Garden in late February, an athletic 20-year-old with a high-top fade and red shirt emblazoned with SJ stepped onto the historic floor.
A group of dudes from the student section shouted his name enthusiastically, and the Red Storm mascot — Johnny Thunderbird — grabbed him and posed for a photo.
But this star isn’t a hotshot guard for the surging hoops team.
It’s LaQuan Martinez, the lone male on the Red Storm dance squad.
Look at how Channing Tatum got famous. He was a dancer. If that could happen twice, that would be great.
- LaQuan Martinez
Now in his second year with the hip-hop and jazz troupe, the junior, sometimes referred to as the “mancer” by basketball fans, has become a mini-celebrity and crowd favorite for his slick moves and commanding presence.
“I never signed an autograph in my life until here,” says Martinez, smiling to expose an adorable Michael Strahan-esque gap in his teeth.
“Kids come up to me and say they want to dance now. It’s a boost to me that I am inspiring people to do things,” adds the public relations major.
Coach Christine McCarton, who helms the elite squad (which this year took fourth at the national championships in hip-hop), says Martinez is an integral part of their rhythmic puzzle.
“He is a celebrity at St. John’s. When you are a male dancer on our team, you immediately become ‘the guy on the dance team,’ and everybody knows you,” McCarton says.
St. John’s has a short history of “mancers.” While men are a rarity on most competitive dance squads, the Red Storm first had a man join the group in 2009 and even had two guys during the 2010 season.
McCarton says her team is open to any student with the right level of talent. “The audition is the same regardless of gender,” she says.
Martinez certainly has plenty of skills — along with a unique flair and commanding presence that distinguishes him from past male dancers that have spun and lept before him.
“He adds excitement to our routines,” McCarton says.
But breakdancing at Madison Square Garden is not exactly where this frat boy (Sigma Pi) expected to be a few years ago.
Martinez only started dancing in high school, where he played wide receiver on the football team and ran track. He and a group of guy friends dared each other to take dance classes simply to mix up their repertoire.
“I loved it, so I kept doing it,” he says. Then attending high school in Central Islip, he enrolled in the prestigious June Claire Dance Center, where he finally found his footing.
“It was really cool being around that atmosphere. That’s when I started developing my technique,” says Martinez.
After finishing his freshman year at a community college, Martinez transferred to St. John’s, and a gal pal convinced him to try out for the dance team with her. The audition would change his life.
“Sadly, she did not make it. But I did. And it was a real dynamic change for me. I learned to stop doubting myself,” recalls Martinez, who says his most thrilling moment was during his first Tip-Off, a pep rally that starts each basketball season.
“It was the first real awakening when I thought, ‘This will be awesome.’ We had Lupe Fiasco there, and when I got out there, it was definitely a moment,” he recalls. “It just came natural to me, and people started coming up and giving me high-fives and saying, ‘You’re doing your thing out there. You’re killing it. Toss me a T-shirt next time.’”
Some of his biggest supporters are his fraternity brothers; at the Georgetown game, they could be heard screaming Martinez’s name from under the basket.
“We mix and flow ideas,” he says. “They love me.”
For example, last year Martinez helped bring home a victory in a lip-syncing contest during Greek Week competitions.
“I choreographed it, and people [said] it was unfair because [we] have a guy on the dance team. I just call that good recruiting,” he quips.
And his on-court presence is not lost on the basketball team.
“[Star shooting guard] D’Angelo [Harrison] is a fan. He is always cracking jokes, saying, ‘I see what you’re doing out there. I think I can do it better.’ And Sir’Dom [Pointer] likes to jokingly trip me as I go out. They are always fun and supportive, and it’s really kind of cool,” says Martinez.
The only guy in a sea of ladies, Martinez says he is often asked for dating advice. But he only dishes it out to thick-skinned pals.
“I am brutally honest. If you can’t handle the truth, don’t ask LaQuan.”
As for his own dating status, Martinez says he is unattached.
“I am single as a Pringle and ready to mingle. I don’t have time to date. There is something about the 40-year-old bachelor swag that is appealing,” says Martinez, who is split on whether he wants to go into the arts or corporate America.
“If I never dance again after this, that is fine. I will say it’s been a great three years,” he says, adding, “I would act. I sang in high school too. Look at how Channing Tatum got famous. He was a dancer. If that could happen twice, that would be great.”