An African Rebound

by Dan Doyle

  He continued, “I’ve heard it said, Leonard, that the loneliness that comes from leaving home is very much the companion of learning, of growing, and of growing up. Your mother knows this move is right for you, and so do I. In time, and please believe me on this, you will know it, too. But for now, I want you to be assured that Mathias and I will treat you as if you were our own son.”

  As the coach spoke, Leonard listened intently. When Jim was done, the boy extended his hand and said, “Urakoze. Thank you.”

  Meanwhile, the ambassador conferred with Consolaté. She offered Leonard’s mother a place in Bujumbura “when you are ready.”

  Consolaté’s appreciation of this important woman’s goodwill was heartfelt. Handing Ambassador Foster a folded piece of paper bound by a piece of string and covered with a small patch of yellow cloth, Consolaté said, “Since I have learned to read, I have come to love the deep meaning of certain words. When you return to your home later today, please look at a beautiful prayer I read in a book.”

  The ambassador took the paper and embraced her new sister. “I will read the prayer. And I want you to know that until you come, I will look after your son—not as well as you—but with the love of a mother.”

  When he was certain the ambassador and Consolaté were finished with their conversation, Jim gently approached Leonard’s mother and, with Mathias’s aid, told her a story.

  “When I was a young coach many years ago, I had a boy on my team who was very difficult to work with. The boy broke several rules, and I decided to ask him to leave the team. After the season, the boy’s father came to see me. Early in our conversation, I realized that the father was a good man. To be sure, he had spoiled his son, and admitted as much. But he also told me how much my decision had hurt the boy—and had hurt him.”

  Jim paused, took a deep breath, and continued his story. “And then he said something that I wish someone had said to me before I began my coaching career. He said, ‘I only hope that you treated my son the way that you would want your own son to be treated.’ In truth, I knew I had not treated that boy as I would have liked my own son to be treated. While he was difficult to work with, had I been a more mature coach, I would have found a way to work with him, to somehow keep him on the team.”

  He waited for Mathias to finish translating and then added, “Ever since the meeting with that boy’s father, I have tried very hard to treat each young man under my direction the way I would want my own child to be treated. I haven’t always been successful, but believe me, that has been my goal. Ma’am, you have my assurance that I will treat Leonard as if he were my own son.”

  To Jim’s surprise, as he concluded his words, Consolaté Tangishaka embraced him.

  Moments later, as the jeep began to navigate the treacherous, rutted stone road, Charlé Tinyabokwe, hiding in the woodland, watched Leonard Tangishaka leave Kayanza with a group of intruders he found easy to loathe.

  Just shy of midnight, Ambassador Foster reached her study. She pulled from her pocket the folded paper, carefully removed the string and yellow cloth, put on her glasses, and read:

  A Mother’s Prayer

  I pray you will be my eyes and watch him where he goes.

  And help me to be wise.

  Help me to let him go.

  31

  Master teacher that he was, Jim Keating developed a comprehensive lesson plan for the basketball education of Leonard Tangishaka. With the help of Jesse Abbot, who was fluent in Kirundi and a wizard at the computer, a printout of the two-month plan was ready within three days of Leonard’s arrival in Bujumbura. The plan would provide the young man with instruction in every phase of basketball—as well as other details of the game’s history.

  As soon as Jesse delivered the plan, Jim approached Bill after lunch one day.

  “If you’ve got some time right now, I’m anxious to have you look at this material we’ve put together for Leonard. I asked Jesse to search the internet for the bios of Russell, Walton, Chamberlain, and other great ones. Before I give this to Leonard, I’d like your feedback.”

  Bill nodded and took some time to review the material. “Looks great. My only thought is that we add Paul Silas to the offensive rebounding category. Also, the big Russian— Sabonis—in the High Post/Low Post passing category.”

  Bill’s suggestions triggered more discussion, after which they agreed on the following Post Player Models:

  ♦Jump Shot—Robert Parish

  ♦Turnaround Jump Shot from Low Post—Jack Sikma

  ♦Hook Shot

  ♦Sky Hook—Kareem Abdul Jabbar

  ♦Regular Hook Shot—George Mikan

  ♦Jump Hook—Dave Cowans

  ♦Outlet Pass—Bill Walton

  ♦High Post/Low Post passing—Arvydas Sabonis

  ♦Running the Floor—Robert Parish

  ♦Shot Blocking—Bill Russell

  ♦Defensive Strategy—Bill Russell

  ♦Offensive Rebounding—Paul Silas

  ♦Defensive Rebounding—Hakeem Olajuwon

  ♦Aggressiveness—Dave Cowans

  ♦Footwork — Hakeem Olajuwon

  ♦Drop-Step—Kevin McHale

  While Foster took the bios and outline to the typing pool, Jim called Barry Sklar to tell him about Leonard and to ask a favor.

  “Hey, ol’ friend, I really wanted to talk with Harriet; by the way, please give her my best.”

  Barry laughed. “Will do, Coach. And it’s good to hear your voice. Tell me, how’s it going?”

  “It’s going great, Barry. Since the last time we talked, we’ve discovered a kid—make that a seven-foot, fourteen-year-old kid—who is simply phenomenal.”

  Jim gave Barry the particulars, including where they found Leonard and his move to Bujumbura. He also reviewed Leonard’s physique, his athleticism, and his rapid and remarkable grasp of basketball skills.

  “So, GeneralJim, let me get this straight. You’re actually saying that he could be better than Russell, Jabbar, Chamberlain, and Hakeem!” exclaimed Barry.

  “I am, Barry, and speaking of those guys, I’m wondering if you can get me some films on them—as well as on George Mikan, Bill Walton, Robert Parish, Dave Cowans, Paul Silas, Jack Sikma, Kevin McHale, and Sabonis, the Big Russian?”

  “ Tell me where to go, Coach,” said Barry, pleased with his old friend’s emotional health, which was obvious from the vitality in his voice.

  “NBA Properties, a division of the NBA, as well as the Basketball Hall of Fame in Springfield, both have lots of old films,” said Jim. “I’m sure they’ll cooperate. And the Portland Trail Blazers have the draft rights to Sabonis. I’ll bet they have plenty of film on him. And Barry, for now, please don’t tell anyone about Leonard. I don’t want any college recruiters or pro scouts here just yet.”

  “Understood,” said Barry.

  Within an hour after the conversation ended, Barry found out that two US senators were tied to family ownership of two NBA teams. Barry placed calls to the staffers of both senators. One week later, a collection of films, including footage of Sabonis, as well as a bonus gift of more equipment from both teams, was on the way to Bujumbura, Burundi.

  During his first week in Bujumbura, Leonard Tangishaka was clearly burdened by a concern for his beloved mother. The distance that set them apart would, he feared, increase the depths of Charlé’s lechery. And then there was the dreaded virus. Leonard did not fully comprehend the vast expanse of its terrible reach. But he did know of the virus’s steely tie to gusambana, and he prayed hard that it would never infect his mother.

  Because of her own fear of AIDS, Consolaté had warned her son to refrain from any sexual union with the young girls of Kayanza.

  “They will see you as a god, and you must be strong in your resistance,” she had said.

  In recent months, before he left his home, Leonard had found himself increasingly attracted to the abukobga—the girls. And though he had been in Bujumbura for just a few days, the young ladies in the capital
city were even prettier than those from Kayanza. But despite the hormones surging through his fourteen-year-old body, Leonard would follow his mother’s wishes.

  As time began to alleviate the pain of Leonard’s separation from his mother and his home, he became adjusted to his new surroundings. An important addition to this life—and one he enjoyed—was daily school. In Kayanza, schooling in times of peace was sporadic at best; in times of war it was non-existent.

  Leonard’s favorite course was English. His teacher, a Catholic missionary from Ireland, was so impressed with her new pupil’s progress that she told Mathias, “He is already my best student.”

  But despite finding a measure of happiness in his new surroundings, Leonard’s concern for Consolaté never wavered. And while he often thought about visiting his mother and friends, he was too shy to raise the matter with his host, who was so kind to him.

  Mathias had lost his wife and only child, a daughter, at childbirth many years before, and he treated Leonard like the son he wished he had. Each morning before classes, he made the boy breakfast of matoke, a small banana, and ugali, a flour paste that Leonard ate with a piece of French bread. In rural Burundi, people routinely skipped breakfast and returned at noon for a large meal. So this was a new, but welcome, experience—especially the French bread. When Leonard returned after school, and prior to his daily basketball workout, Mathias had snacks of sugar cane and nuts waiting.

  For dinner, Mathias would make delicious dishes of red kidney beans, cabbage, or sweet potatoes. Of course, Leonard was familiar with these kinds of food, but Mathias added spices and cooked with a French flair that made the meals particularly enjoyable. Though they were in short supply, Mathias was also able, through his friends in Bujumbura, to obtain chicken and meat, which they enjoyed at least twice a week. After the evening meal, he would help Leonard with his homework, marveling at the boy’s diligence and aptitude for learning. Before retiring, the two would discuss the great players who appeared in Leonard’s Basketball Digest, the impressive compendium of hoops history and skills development techniques so carefully prepared by Coach Keating.

  And if Mathias acted as surrogate father to young Leonard, Jim took on the role of teacher, mentor, and trusted friend. Each afternoon, Leonard received private lessons on the fundamentals and history of basketball. Jim handled the sessions for five days. The other two workouts were delegated to Gilbert, Déo, and Bill Foster so the coach could make his weekly treks out into the country.

  Since Leonard’s arrival in Bujumbura, Jim had been unable to include Kayanza in his travel itinerary, for the Marines had reported increased violence in that region so near the Rwandan border. Through the Marines, Jim had gotten word to the other thirteen boys that he fully intended to return. He had also asked the Marines to bring along additional equipment, but they couldn’t be sure the boys would be able to use it for fear of reprisal by Charlé and his warriors.

  After five weeks of intensive instruction, which included viewing the video tapes sent by Barry, Leonard’s progress surprised even Jim Keating. The coach decided it was time for the next step.

  “Bill, he’s already much better than the guys trying out for the National Team. I say we let him join the group.”

  “I agree,” said Foster. “You’ve done a masterful job, Jim. You’ve taught him the fundamentals as well as I’ve ever seen them taught. Plus, and this is a big plus, you’ve made him believe in himself. The Pygmalion Effect right here in Burundi!”

  As usual, Jim felt uncomfortable with the compliment. “You’re too kind, Bill. But you know, I sure understand how Mathias feels—I, too, love the kid like a son.”

  An average of thirty-six players—slightly more Tutsis than Hutus—were regularly attending the National Team practices. The youngest was nineteen, and most of the athletes were in their mid to late twenties.

  On occasion during the five weeks of private workouts, the coach had invited Dieudonne Kinshaba, a schoolteacher and National Team candidate, to work against Leonard in the drills. At the last private session before joining the National Team practice, Jim assigned the 6’9” Dieudonne to guard Leonard in a shot test from ten to twelve feet out. Leonard devoured the defender, scoring on 17 of 25 attempts, causing Bill Foster to refer to the young man’s newly constructed jumper as “impossible to block and Robert Parish water-soft.”

  Later in that session, Jim began to teach Leonard the Paul Silas method of rolling off the back of the defensive rebounder to get better offensive rebounding position. After fifteen minutes of instruction on this rarely used technique, Jim asked Dieudonne to “box Leonard out.”

  Dieudonne girded his body and aggressively fixed his buttocks to Leonard’s upper thighs in proper box-out position. Leonard began his roll, and Jim’s intentionally errant shot caromed off the rim and high into the air.

  With perfect timing, and slightly better rebounding position due to his effective “roll,” Leonard ascended a full two feet above the reach of Dieudonne. He snatched the ball with his mammoth right hand and smashed it through the hoop in one fluid and powerful motion. Jim was so amazed that he momentarily forgot the no dunk rule

  Bill Foster did not. “Jim,” Foster whispered to the coach, out of earshot of Leonard. “We’d best enforce the rule with this kid, or we’ll have no hoops!”

  Prior to Leonard’s joining the group for practice, Jim said to the team, “We have a young man who will join us on Tuesday night. His name is Leonard Tangishaka, and I know that you’ve all heard about him from Dieudonne. In two weeks, he’s turning fifteen years old, and he is now 7’1” and still growing. A little over a month ago, we discovered Leonard in the Kayanza region. Because of the violence there, and the fact that he’s a boy with special basketball potential, we helped him move to Bujumbura, where he is staying with Mathias.”

  He continued. “Since he arrived, we’ve been working with Leonard on his skills. We feel it’s time he practiced with this group. Gentlemen, this boy has the potential to make a real impact on basketball in this country. I’d like all of you to treat him as if he was your younger brother.”

  “Seven-one and still fourteen?” shouted Egide Nashambi, one of the team’s best shooters, and most assuredly the team comic. “Coach Keating, he can definitely be my brother.”

  The group’s laughter made Jim comfortable that the team would welcome Leonard into their ranks.

  Even though Jim had told Leonard Tangishaka to “relax and enjoy your first practice with the National Team,” Leonard was noticeably nervous when he arrived at the Nimbona Court.

  Jim, on the other hand, was not at all concerned about how Leonard would fare. Even in this rudimentary stage of his basketball development, the boy was far ahead of the other National Team hopefuls. His strength, quickness, and overall athleticism were superior—and the rate at which he mastered skills was astounding.

  While Dieudonne was the only National Team member to have seen Leonard play, he had told his teammates plenty about the “wunderkind,” as he had nicknamed Leonard. An eruption of interest, if not intense curiosity, awaited Leonard’s arrival at the practice.

  Jim introduced the newcomer to the team, and their warm reaction pleased the coach—and the young player. The favorable response and a five minute warm-up in the lay-up line relaxed Leonard.

  “Okay, let’s get into the full-court drills,” yelled Jim. “How ‘bout if we start with the five-on-three fast-break drill we worked on at the last practice.”

  The fast-break drill called for the rebounder to take the position of “trailer.” The trailer was to remain behind the other four players until the three defenders were pulled out of position due to a crisp series of passes. At this point, the trailer’s job was to cut hard to the hoop. If open, he would be fed the ball for an easy lay-up.

  In Leonard’s first attempt at the drill, he did something Jim had grown fond of in the boy. Because of his energy—and diligence—he knew, in Jim’s words, “only full speed ahead.”


  When he grabbed the rebound, Leonard pitched the ball out to a wing-man and then bolted down the court, outrunning the other four members of his team, plus the three defenders. He received a lead pass from the ball handler and slammed home a thunderous dunk, causing Déo to yell, “Leonard—please remember the dunk rule!”

  Jim had a more measured reaction. “Well,” he whispered to Bill Foster, “I guess we ought to refine the fast-break pattern to take advantage of the kid’s speed!”

  Bill turned and winked at Jim. “I’d say you’re right on that one, Coach.”

  The practice ended up with two 12-minute scrimmages. Leonard played 18 of the 24 minutes. He scored 22 points, grabbed 13 rebounds, and blocked 7 shots. So remarkable was his performance that the players actually cheered several of his more astounding feats.

  “Not only do they like him, but they realize what he can do for the game here,” observed Mathias.

  When practice was over, Jim was exultant. After he dismissed the team, he spent an extra fifteen minutes with Leonard, reviewing the boy’s play and offering pointers for improvement, such as, “When you get double-teamed in the low post, don’t be afraid to pass it back out to a teammate for an open three-pointer.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Leonard—his standard response to any instruction.

  “Before you head off with Mathias,” saidJim, “I’d like to talk to you for a moment. How ‘bout if we go over to the bleachers?”

  Once seated, Jim said, “Leonard, Ambassador Foster has received word that the fighting has moved out of the Kayanza region and over the border into Rwanda. She feels that it’s safe for me to go back to Kayanza and resume teaching the game to your friends.”

  He continued, “While you have never told me that you are homesick, I know you would like to accompany me there—to visit your mother and your friends. But the ambassador thinks that it’s best for Bill and me to go first. We’ll be accompanied by Mathias, Sergeant Rush, and Corporal Roberts, as well as two other Marines. We’ll seek out your friends, and your mother, and find out how safe it would be for you to travel there. If our Marines feel it is safe, and Ambassador Foster agrees, perhaps we can arrange for you to visit. But . . . not just yet, Leonard.”