AUSTIN, Texas -- Gary Johnson has a confession: He never shut down.

He knows that's what you think he did.

He knows that's what he was supposed to do.

But it's just hard to up and stop doing something you've done your entire life on a moment's notice, even when doctors explain how you have a heart condition that -- no sense in sugarcoating it -- could lead to your death if you continue playing basketball.

Considering everything else he has been through, wearing a mask to protect a broken nose won't faze Gary Johnson. (AP)

"When everybody would leave I'd come back at night, me and Craig Winder, and nobody else knew," Johnson said. "Craig supported me a lot. He would always tell me there is still a chance and that there was no point in laying back."

Clearly, Craig Winder is not a doctor.

But he's a good friend whose goal was to cheer his friend up during down times, and his friend was undeniably enduring some down times. Johnson had enrolled at Texas with much hype, a Parade All-American most expected to be the Longhorns' top inside presence. Among those expecting as much was Johnson himself. But a physical checkup in the summer rendered bad news when the 6-foot-7 forward was diagnosed with a heart ailment.

The first opinion?

"They told me I would never be able to play again," Johnson said. "That kinda shook me up."

The second opinion?

"They told me there was a small chance that I might be able to play again," Johnson said. "So I've taken the positive out of that."

Because really, what else can he do?

Johnson has never looked sick nor felt sick, and yet people have explained how his career is in jeopardy. It has been difficult to understand. So it took a while for this 20-year-old to start to understand. But what he now knows is that he has a condition that's been with him since birth, and that it is serious and not going away.

"There's nothing I can do to change it," Johnson said. "It's always gonna be there."

Which is why Texas has adjusted accordingly.

Doctors spent the first semester monitoring Johnson in practices before clearing him to play Jan. 2. He's averaging 9.7 points, 6.5 rebounds and 23.8 minutes in his past six outings while helping the Longhorns beat Baylor (twice), Oklahoma, Iowa State, Kansas and Texas A&M, and he's doing it all while wearing a strap across his chest that monitors his heart rate (and other things) via a laptop computer sitting courtside.

His heart is always monitored by strength and conditioning coach Todd Wright.

Or his assistant, Mike Tremele.

"I'm not looking for anything specific when I'm looking at the computer," Wright said. "I'm just looking for anything unique."

So far, he hasn't found anything.

That's the good part of this story.

But the reality is that a problem could come at any moment in a practice or game, and it's not an exaggeration to worry that Johnson could end up lying on a court just like Hank Gathers once did. To be clear, every precaution has been taken, and some have even accused Texas of being too careful, if that's possible. But the Johnson-Gathers comparison is a natural, and just as the heart condition will always be with Johnson, it's likely the fear that comes with fragility will also forever linger.

"It's a thought in my head every day, that when I'm out on the court that there's a possibility I could be facing death," Johnson said. "But I just try not to think in negative ways like that."

Because really, what else can he do?