When he was born, he weighed nine pounds, 10 ounces.
In the second grade, he measured just over five feet tall.
As a high school freshman? Connor Williams was six feet eight inches.
To say that today, he is a big man on campus at St. John Fisher University, well, now you’re just being cute with words.
The senior center on the men’s basketball team stands seven feet tall and weighs 360 pounds. On the court, he is nearly impossible to defend when he posts in the paint, where opponents will often double him, using two players to attempt to move him off the block.
But sure, go ahead and try that. Because he has the same post-up vision as Magic Johnson when the Hall of Fame point guard — who stood six feet eight — would look for advantageous matchups down low. Connor will burn you with that weak-side dish, where an eager teammate is ready to kiss the glass for an easy two.
Better yet, how about man-on-man coverage? Lean into him with your forearm, try to get your knee into the back of his, keeping him off balance? Right … He’ll just post up, take the ball on his weak side, dribble, drop step, pivot toward the hoop and use his soft touch for an easy bucket. And the one dude defending him? Well, we didn’t see much of him because Williams backed into him like a tractor-trailer running over a tricycle.
Oh, and if he’s trailing the play coming up court? Don’t think you can take a breather while he gets to the paint. If you need a blow, he’ll post-up outside the three-point arc and drain treys like he’s Steph Curry.
The big man has serious touch.
“I'll take them when I'm open,” he says of the three-point shot. “But I think most of my game comes in the low post, and there's times where if I'm getting a little complacent standing on a three-point line where coaches would be like, ‘Get in the paint,’ because that's actually probably where I'm most successful, but just having the ability to be a threat from either and shooting it well, I think is a big thing that helps, especially for big guys, because a lot of people just don't expect it, especially from someone of my size.”
Much of his life has centered around his size. It’s what made him a multi-sport star in high school, where he garnered college offers for both football and basketball.
It’s what helped him go viral multiple times, where his size and his skillset made for some stunning highlights seen on ESPN and other outlets.
As for his apropos nickname, the Big Cozy? Sure, it spawned a merch shop and helped lock in some Name, Image and Likeness (NIL) deals. The nickname Cozy was given to him by a former teammate when Williams would roll out of bed and head straight to morning practice wearing his pajamas.
“He just started calling me Cozy,” Williams says. “And then Big, obviously because I’m big.”
Welcome to the Big Cozy era.
Mom (Kristin) played college softball. She’s six feet one.
Dad (Chris) played baseball at a junior college. He’s six feet seven.
The family settled in the Rochester, New York, area when Williams was one. As a young boy, he was enrolled in just about everything. Was there any doubt, with two athletes for parents?
“I played lacrosse, football, baseball, basketball. I played hockey at one point,” Williams says. “I ended up playing football and basketball all the way through high school.”
As he kept growing, he was starting to double the size of his teammates. When his junior year approached, he was making waves as a two-way lineman in football. He played center on offense, where he could dominate the line of scrimmage, opening holes by taking out two players at a time.
When watching his recruiting highlight reel, his play at defensive tackle was something to behold. Players blocking him were making contact with their shoulder pads at his stomach. His teammate at right defensive end was literally half his size. When Williams would get in the backfield, he obliterated running backs, bringing new meaning to the football term “pancake.”
“Obviously, my size helps in some aspects, but it is a little weird because everyone is so much smaller and I can’t really get much leverage. No one can really move me and I can move pretty much anyone. So it helps me in that sense."
Accolades started rolling in. All-Greater Rochester twice. Monroe County Player of the Year in basketball; second-team All-League in football. Two Monroe County championships.
College coaches took notice. In football, Division II offers started rolling in that season. He was invited to Junior Day at Ivy League schools. Basketball season started and the same attention followed. He was wanted, and he had a decision to make.
Football or basketball?
“I was getting recruited by a lot of D-II schools. But because of Covid, there were (student-athletes) coming back for fifth years and whatever.
“So there was not a lot of scholarship money offered because they're just giving it to people coming back instead of incoming freshmen. And I always liked basketball more. I always loved it more growing up playing it.”
One of the things Williams enjoyed most was growing up and playing with his friends. He says it always made things easy.
“We played all the way through high school and to be around those guys and just have a lot of fun working together to be the best team we could be.”
This was an indicator that his college path might keep him close to home.
“I mean, with football, I was never really looking locally. And then once I decided to play basketball, I grew up near Fisher. So it was only 15 minutes away or whatever. It was actually the only school I visited for basketball. I just, I loved it when I visited and that was it.”
Chances are, if you’re a sports buff or casual social media addict, you’ve seen Connor Williams in your feed already. The first time he went viral was four years ago, during an exhibition game during his freshman season that was aired live on ESPN.
St. John Fisher was playing the University of Buffalo, a Division I school. Williams was coming up the court and near the top of the three-point arc, his feet tangled with a defender. The big man tumbled to the hardwood and came to a stop near the free-throw line; the frustration and embarrassment evident on his face.
But he did what his personality suggests — he calmly got to his feet, got open for a feed right around the same spot where he tripped, and dished one of those glorious, ’80s-style Los Angeles Lakers back door passes, springing teammate Daniel Cook for a dunk.
While most people tuned in on social media to see what it looks like when a redwood falls in the forest, those who know basketball came away with two thoughts: 1.) Yes, he’s a big man. 2.) He can ball.
“Honestly, like, I obviously didn't think anything of it. That's a pass I've probably made 100 times in my basketball career. I didn't think it was anything that special.”
Social media-savvy viewers disagreed. Clips of the tumble and the play started flooding the internet during the game. Barstool Sports, an online juggernaut with a massive social media following, sent it far and wide as well.
While the international sports community was mesmerized by their first glimpse of Williams tumbling, followed by that sublime vision and deft passing, the game continued, but as the minutes passed, the freshman realized he had a problem: he was hurt.
When his feet tangled on that play, he rolled his ankle. He knew it immediately.
"I was obviously hurt, didn't think anything of it. And then, toward the end of the game, I got out of the game.”
Afterward, he talked with his parents, who showed him a clip online. This was his first inkling that something might be happening. But he was nonplussed.
“I was like, ‘Okay, whatever.’ Didn’t really think about it that much. Then I got back to the locker room and looked at my phone and it was just like blowing up on Instagram and everything. I gained probably 50,000 followers overnight. I thought it was crazy.”
The new-found notoriety was cool. Gaining tens of thousands of new admirers? Also cool. But social media isn’t for the faint of heart. Whether you choose to put yourself out there or someone chooses for you, sometimes you need to brace for impact.
Many were in awe. Some were slinging shit. Williams handled it with grace, a trait he traces to his parents.
“It’s just how I was raised. My mom is a big proponent of that and taught me. And my dad taught me that growing up, people can be — excuse my language — but people are assholes. Obviously, I’ve been dealing with it my whole life, being as big as I am.
“People would come up to me and ask, ‘How tall are you?’ People stare at you when you walk into a place. So, in a sense, I always dealt with it. So, I was kind of used to it at a lower level. And then, obviously you got people on the internet, just being rude. It sucks. You gotta stay out of the comment sections. It really upset my mom. Obviously, she's my mother. And yeah, when she sees comments and people attacking her son, sometimes she gets really upset by it. So, I tell her to stop looking at the comments. But overall, I think we took it in a positive direction and learned from it and learned to not read comment sections because people that want to hide behind the keyboard on the internet aren't really worth my time anyway.”
The internet wasn’t done with Williams, though. During his sophomore season, with Big Cozy making a name for himself on and off the court, he went viral again. His silky smooth touch from three-point land doubled down on his fame, with TikTok videos cut to him draining threes all over the court.
His new-found fame paved the way for his first NIL deals. There was Barstool Sports, who set up a Big Cozy merchandise store. DXL Big & Tall. Leaf Trading Cards. He was bucking the trend, proving that D-III athletes could earn NIL opportunities.
But before the celebrity phone calls from Dave Portnoy and NBA skills coach Chris Brickley and rapper Fred Bang, Williams was already doing it right. With his nickname secured before he went viral, he set up his own merch shop, selling t-shirts, with help from his mom.
And then he picked a benefactor.
“Primetime 585, founded by Karen Iglesia, she’s a Rochester woman. She covers a lot of high school sports, which is where I knew her from. She was always around, raising money, getting a lot of teams and people to donate meals for Thanksgiving. She does toy drives and free basketball camps, all that.
“So I donated $5 for every purchase from the store, which she used for the basketball camp. So I helped pay for a lot of that, and that was the big gist of it, I suppose.”
He speaks of his contributions to the community in a manner that suggests he doesn’t want the notoriety that comes with generosity. He’s sheepish and may not have brought it up unless asked.
Williams is a team guy. Whether that’s at St. John Fisher or with his lifelong friends. He revels in hanging out, loves the guys he lives with, enjoys the idle chatter of life.
“It’s just a lot of fun.”
Looking forward, he’s got some decisions to make. A future with or without basketball awaits. A career in law enforcement or the private sector has drawn his interest as a cybersecurity major. He enjoys golf and would love to travel, playing as many top courses as possible. At the top of his current wishlist? TPC Sawgrass, in Ponte Verde Beach, Florida.
With his senior season in full swing, the Bog Cozy is taking it all in, enjoying the ride, looking forward to life’s next sweet dish to the big man at the top of the key, where he takes the pass in those big, soft mitts, squares to rim and launches a delicate arc that hits nothing but net.
Matthew Fults is author of the critically acclaimed and award-winning novel, The Scotland Project, available from your favorite bookseller.