OMAHA, Neb. -- "Sweet Jones" and "Sky's the Limit." The words tattooed on Josh Jones' right arm say it all about his considerable basketball talents.

His left arm reveals his newfound serious side. "Messiah," it says, under a tribute to his deceased father, "Big John."

With his deft shooting touch from the perimeter and slashing moves to the basket, Josh Jones arguably is the best high school player in Nebraska. He made a verbal commitment to Creighton as a junior last year. Blessed with the gift of gab, he's long been a popular figure in the halls of Omaha Central.

Everything in his life seemed to come easy, he says.

Then came Labor Day weekend. He hadn't been feeling well for weeks. After two trips to the emergency room, doctors told him he had something wrong with his heart. A bacterial infection -- infective endocarditis -- was damaging his aortic valve. Open-heart surgery was the only option.

"I cried," Jones said. "I never went through any type of surgery. I was laying in bed and I had no ability to walk. My confidence was gone. I didn't think about basketball anymore."

Left untreated much longer, Jones could have died, his surgeon said.

On Sept. 9, Jones underwent a 5?-hour procedure to replace his bacteria-ravaged valve with one formed from cow tissue.

Four months later, Jones is the leading scorer for a Central team bidding for its third straight state championship in the large-school class. Jones made 10 3-pointers and scored a career-high 41 points last week against Bellevue East, but he says he still doesn't feel like his old self.

He is, however, playing with no pressure because Creighton coach Dana Altman promised to honor his scholarship offer. Altman told him so at the hospital, just hours after he was out of surgery.

"He committed to us in good faith, so we were going to stick with him regardless of what the outcome was with his heart surgery," Altman said.

Jones is thankful. For basketball. For his life.

"I sometimes think God wanted to keep me humble," said Jones, a Baptist. "I just never slowed down and took the time to realize my opportunity. I was running with it. I never really counted my blessings. I took it like everything was guaranteed to me. Nothing's guaranteed now."

Jones started to come down with flu-like symptoms in mid-August. He felt so bad that his mom, Desiree Jones, took him to the emergency room on Sept. 1. He underwent tests, which were inconclusive, and was sent home.

Two days later, while attending a Labor Day gathering with his family, Jones started to sweat profusely, "like someone poured a glass of water over him," Desiree said.

Over his objections, his mom rushed him back to the hospital. He was admitted for more tests, and a couple days later he was diagnosed.

"You think you're going to take your child home, and the next thing you know, they're talking about opening up his chest," Desiree Jones said. "All this stuff runs through your head. Is he going to live? Can he play ball? What's going to happen?"

No one knows why an otherwise-healthy 17-year-old would come down with infective endocarditis. The form of bacteria found in his heart is common to the mouth, and it may have traveled to his heart because of trauma caused by something as simple as brushing his teeth.

Dr. Kim Duncan, Jones' surgeon, said infective endocarditis is seen in Omaha maybe two or three times a year in young people like Jones.

Duncan said Jones was on his way to having a heart attack or stroke because of the damaged valve, and his kidneys and liver were vulnerable.

Jones' father, John Jones Sr., died of cardiovascular disease at age 57 in May 2006. Duncan said there was no connection between the heart problems of father and son.

John Sr. rarely saw his son play basketball because multiple health problems confined him to the house the last five years of his life. The two were close, Josh said.

"I was relieved for him because he suffered too long," Jones said. "But I've been given this chance to live. I'm playing for myself, but I'm playing for him, too."

Jones lost 30 pounds during his two-week hospitalization, dropping to 169. His bench press went from 235 pounds to 185, his squat from 400 to 300, and his vertical leap from 37 inches to 28.

Jones got medical clearance Nov. 8, four days before the start of basketball practice, and he was in the starting lineup for Central's Dec. 1 opener. He scored 20 points, including 14 in the fourth quarter to key a win over Millard West.

"That was the hardest 20 points in my life," he said.

Jones scored 17 and 30 points in his next two games. He's averaging better than 15 points, and that's playing at 75 percent, coach Eric Behrens said.

The 6-foot-1 guard is an accurate perimeter shooter, but what makes him so dangerous is his ability to penetrate defenses. That part of his game was missing early in the season.

"When you fly out at him, he goes right by you and drives the ball to the basket. He's getting that back," Behrens said. "We're hoping within the next month or two we get him as close to full strength as possible and see where he can take us."

Altman has watched Jones play once this season, and he came away impressed.

"It's remarkable that he's back playing," Altman said. "When I saw him in that hospital bed in September, I never would have guessed he would be back, this quickly anyway."

Ronnell Grixby, Jones' teammate and friend since fourth grade, said no one treats Jones differently since the surgery. But the team understands Jones can't do some of the things he used to, at least not yet.

"We don't want his heart jumping out of him. We don't want him jumping that high," Grixby said, laughing. "He gets a little short-winded. We have a lot of players, so they can step up and fill in. Hopefully, he'll regain that when championship time comes."

Because a valve made of animal tissue was implanted in Jones' heart, he'll have to undergo another surgery when it wears out in 7 to 15 years, Duncan said. He'll undergo testing each year to check how the valve is holding up, Duncan said.

Otherwise, the only reminders are the 8?-inch scar that runs down the middle of Jones' chest and the chest guard attached to his Underarmor.

"People ask me a thousand times a day if they can see the scar," Jones said.

The imposition is OK.

Jones, after all, is on his way to becoming the first member of his family to go to college. He plans to major in business. And he'll still be playing basketball.

The sky's the limit.

"That's why we do the surgery," Duncan said, "so these kids can go out and live the life they want to live."