By by Stephen Rodrick

Tuesday, August 6, 2002

Quentin Richardson is one mean joker. Last year, as hype spread that he might go pro after his freshman season, Q, as everyone calls him, sauntered into DePaul's locker room clutching SUV brochures. He took a seat, big grin on his baby face, and started flipping through the pages. Teammates went slack-jawed. Fellow Chicago homey and teammate Lance Williams, a blue-chip wisenheimer himself, went quiet. "Q, what you looking at those for? You're not going ... " Richardson split a gut. "What? Ah, m ...

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