Houston – Buddy Hield pauses a few seconds before stepping onto the dais, taking out half a green apple with a couple of big bites.

"Probably the first thing I ate all day," he said.

When the bites go down, Hield sits and looks out over the pool of reporters — looking freshly eager despite it being his third of four media appearances on this day. His wide, toothy smile won't betray him, but the consensus first-team All-America is anxious.

Saturday, the 6-4 senior shooting phenomenon and the rest of his Oklahoma squad will face Villanova in the Final Four, a dream for a kid who grew up in a poor township in the Bahamas, shooting balls at makeshift baskets he constructed from milk crates and light poles.

In between, there were years of long hours in the gym, thousands of shots, steady and remarkable improvement.

Now, there was nothing to do but wait. And Hield was getting stir-crazy.

"It's been real tough," he said, still grinning. "As every day comes up, the anxiety … I'm just worrying about the game so much."

Hield clearly has been preparing his whole life for this moment. His love for basketball and infectious personality earned him local celebrity status early in the Bahamas. But when Hield moved to the United States after being recruited to play at Sunrise Christian Academy in Wichita, Kan., in high school, his game still had plenty of flaws. Even by the time he landed in Norman, Hield described himself as simply "just a catch-and-shoot guy."

As an Oklahoma freshman, Hield averaged 7.8 points while making only 23.8 percent of his shots from three-point range.

But Hield just kept shooting. He gained a reputation for getting in the gym early, staying late and instigating his own shooting sessions as many as four times a day. Sooners teammates said it was not unusual to see Hield leaving the gym after a 5:30 a.m. workout and then catch him there again around midnight.

Hield said Friday his work ethic came from "just being a kid and having nothing" and from studying Kobe Bryant, another shooting guard notorious for being in the gym all hours of the day.

"You just want to keep shooting to be the best," said Hield, who on Friday claimed the Oscar Robertson Trophy from the U.S. Basketball Writers Association as the nation's top college player. "I'm just trying to mimic what he did. Guys who really stay in the gym long, the results come."

For Hield, those results keep coming. After making almost a 10-point jump in his scoring average as a sophomore, Hield kept improving. He learned how to create his own shot and set up his teammates. He learned how to move with the ball, to get past defenders. And his three-pointers? Those began to fall at higher and higher rates.

"[I've] been impressed since Day 1," Sooners coach Lon Kruger said. "His passion for the game, his ability to focus from a work ethic standpoint."

Kruger said even as a freshman, Hield would ask his coach constantly what he needed to work on and what he could do to get better.

"A lot of kids will say that, but then they'll go work on the things they're most comfortable doing," Kruger said. "In Buddy's case … he was very focused on what he has to do to complete himself as a player."

After choosing to hold off on entering the NBA draft, Hield has found another level this season, transforming from a very good college player into a bona fide star. The numbers have gotten gaudier. Averaging 25.4 points a game and 47 percent shooting from three-point range, Buddy Hield has become the "Buddy Hield Show." He put up 46 points in a triple-overtime loss at Kansas when the Sooners and Jayhawks were ranked No. 1 and 2 in the country, a performance observers will remember far longer than the final score. He has scored at least 30 points on 12 occasions, including 36- and 37-point performances in the NCAA tournament.

When the pressure turns up, Hield turns in gold. It's been enough to turn the fast-talking sharp shooter into a legend in the Bahamas.

On Saturday in Eight Mile Rock, Hield's hometown, the streets will likely be empty. Everyone, Hield has heard, is piling into bars and viewing parties to watch the ballyhooed Bahamian on his greatest stage.

"I don't know, I don't want to disappoint them," Hield said. "When I go home, I know they're going to talk a lot of smack to me."

Hasn't he done enough to avoid any teasing?

Nope, not yet. Not until he wins the national championship, finally reaching his pinnacle.

"You've never done enough to satisfy those people back in the Bahamas," Hield said, shaking his head with a smile. "You don't know those people … but if I win, they won't say nothing to me."

Just an entire country rooting for him and ready to give him smack if he fails. No pressure or anything. Hopefully someone is keeping a basket of apples around.

"Your first time, you don't know what it's going to be like," Hield said of the Final Four. "The crowds, and it's something you've never seen before."

Thursday, Hield took the long walk from the court entrance to the hardwood, noticing how the depth perception made the court almost look sunk. Much has been made this weekend about sight lines in spacious NRG Stadium messing up shooters. Hield, though, pointed out that he's used to distractions while playing outside, in public parks growing up.

When he's on the court — any court — the anxiety fades away.

"When you're out there, you've just got to focus on the rim," he said. "As a shooter, I just block out everything."

The wait is almost over. The childhood dream, getting better every day, will hit a new level this weekend.

"When I start warming up and I hear the music, I should be fine," Hield said. "I'll just do what I do best … hopefully I just go in there and light the gym up."