Lonnie smiled and took a sip. “Have I said thanks for making me offer him a scholarship?”
“You have, and you are welcome. Sometimes we get lucky. You know, it’s hard to believe that when I met him a year ago he was six-two, weighed a buck seventy, and had the ugliest jump shot in South Sudan.”
“He’s a freak, Ecko, plain and simple. We measured him last week. Six-eight now, two-thirty. All he wants to do is shoot baskets and lift weights.”
“Girls?”
“I don’t get involved but I’m sure he’s doing okay.”
“Have you talked to him about the draft, and agents and all that?”
“No, not yet. I know the runners are out. It’s part of the business. At least three have approached Murray. I’ve lectured the team in front of Sooley and talked to the seniors when he’s not around. They try to protect him, but you know how it works. As soon as the tournament is over, he’s fair game and can talk to an agent. Once that starts, he’s gone. Nobody can turn down the money.”
Ecko agreed. “And he worships Niollo, who turned pro at nineteen after only one year at Syracuse. Of course, Niollo played competitive high school ball here in the States and was even an All-American. Trivia: Who was the only high school prospect ranked ahead of Niollo?”
“LeBron.”
“LeBron. And he didn’t go to college.”
“What does Sooley want?”
“We talked about his family this afternoon. That’s all he cares about right now. He’s eternally grateful to you and Central and his teammates, but when he’s off the court he’s thinking about his mother and brothers. I told him that a coaching buddy of mine in Uganda has pulled some strings with the government and they’re setting up some big flat screens to watch the game in the refugee camp. Can you imagine? Sooley’s mother and brothers watching him play. The kid had tears in his eyes when I told him.”
“That’s amazing. And you got it done?”
“Sure. It’s nothing. You ask what he wants. If money will help get his family over here, then he’ll take the money. If earning a degree in four years and becoming a U.S. citizen will make it happen faster, then that’s what he wants.”
“He’ll take the money.”
“Probably.”
“He trusts you, Ecko. Do you know a good agent?”
“I’d rather not get involved. At that point, Sooley will enter a different world and any advice from me would not be valuable. He’s a smart kid and he’ll figure it out. Hopefully.”
* * *
·?·?·
When Samuel stepped into the mid-court circle for the tip, he took a second to soak in the enormity of Atlanta’s State Farm Arena, home of the Hawks. Under one backboard a noisy contingent from Central chanted his name while the rest of the 18,000-plus settled into their seats. As always, he reminded himself of where he came from, and how far he had traveled. A year ago he was playing on dirt courts.
He nodded to the center for Providence, a gangly boy with heavy feet, and slapped the ball back to Mitch Rocker, who took his time and quickly noticed that there were two Friars sticking to their star. The other three were spread across the lane in what appeared to be a zone of some sorts. Mitch drove to the free throw line and kicked out to Dmitri, who missed an easy 20-footer. More misses soon followed, and the double-team on Sooley worked beautifully, as long as no one else could score. Central was off to a dismal start, one that turned ugly when the Friars’ leading scorer hit his second three to make the score 12–2. At the first TV time-out, the lead was 20, 26–6, and Sooley had yet to score. The crowd was quiet, but there was a buzzing as if the fans were wondering about all the hype.
With one defender stuck to his back and the other staying between him and the ball, Sooley was having trouble. Out of frustration, he elbowed the taller one and got a whistle, his first foul. They picked him up at mid-court and dogged him every step. Mitch Rocker hit a three, and, after a block by Sooley, Murray hit another one. At 13:05 Sooley managed to take a bounce pass at the free throw line and spring high above his defenders. He was checked hard, got a whistle as the ball went in, and finished off the three-point play. He was on the board and the lead was 15. Roy Tice took a long rebound and fired the outlet pass to Murray who flipped it behind his back to Sooley, who launched a 30-footer that hit and fired up the crowd. Providence slowed down the game and both defenses settled in. Coach Britt chewed relentlessly on the refs, complaining that Sooley was being held and hacked and otherwise mugged. He got a call, then another, and coverage slacked off just enough to spring him. He hit two more threes and Providence called time at 7:40, its lead cut to eight points. Lonnie told Mitch and Murray to start hammering the ball inside and try to take pressure off Sooley. Roy Tice hit two short jumpers and the Friars missed four straight. Sooley missed badly from long range but followed it, got the rebound and fired a perfect pass to Melvin Montgomery for the dunk. At the half, the score was tied at 40. Sooley had 12 points and was 3-for-7 from behind the arc. More important, he was keeping the Friars preoccupied on defense and his teammates were scoring.