Sooley(51)

After the grueling practice, the players slowly undressed, showered, changed, and left. They would be back the following day for more of the same. Sooley doubted if any of them had the energy for sex. But Murray did, evidently. He offered a ride but Sooley said he would walk. Have some fun and see you in the morning. As the managers cleaned up the locker room, Sooley hid in a storage closet. When the lights were off and everyone was gone, he eased back to the court, turned on one light, and began shooting.

After 500 shots, he turned off the light and returned to the locker room. He showered again and for dinner found a sports drink and some granola bars in the team kitchen. He settled into one of the nice cushioned chairs in the cramped room where they watched film and turned on an NBA game. By the second quarter, he was sound asleep.

He awoke to SportsCenter, watched some highlights, and realized he was starving. He put on a Central sweatsuit and went in search of food. The student cafeteria was still closed so he left campus. He walked a mile to a soul food café, his favorite, and inhaled two large chicken biscuits. He toyed with the idea of walking another mile to Sacred Heart for Mass but decided against it. The weather was raw and threatening and he would never get accustomed to the cold.

When Coach Britt arrived early in the afternoon, he heard the familiar thumping of a basketball. He looked around a corner of the bleachers and saw what he expected. Samuel Sooleymon firing away, shirt off, covered in sweat. Two things were clear—the kid was growing into quite a physical specimen, and the shots were no longer bouncing off the rim.



* * *



·?·?·

Practice began with the game plan for Grambling, their first opponent in New York. The players were excited and energetic, though Murray seemed a step or two slower.

As always, Sooley was relentless in the drills and scrimmage. He was physical to the point of getting hard looks from his teammates. He smiled and yelled and never stopped talking smack.

His excitement, though, waned at times. He would not make the trip to New York.





CHAPTER 35





At nine sharp Monday morning, Coach Britt walked into the locker room and inspected his troops. All were wearing navy blazers, white shirts, khaki pants, and casual shoes, no sneakers. He liked what he saw and tried to insult each one as he examined them. The excitement was palpable and everyone was ready to go. He lined up the four student managers, went through their equipment checklists, and for good measure barked at Coach McCoy because he was not wearing a tie. One was quickly put on.

Sooley sat in a corner in practice garb, watching the show and trying not to appear too deflated. The players spoke to him and got a smile, but they knew he was crushed because he would not make the trip. An appointment with an immigration officer was more important.

When all was ready, they filed out of the gym and into a waiting charter bus where the four coaches’ wives were waiting in their Sunday best, all chatting eagerly about the trip. Two of them, and one of the coaches, had never seen the Big Apple. Thirty minutes later, the bus deposited the group at the private terminal at Raleigh-Durham airport. Their nonstop flight was scheduled to land at Teterboro in New Jersey just after 2 p.m.

With the gym deserted, Sooley turned on a couple of lights and began shooting.

That night, Murray called with the news that they had arrived safely, and the two talked half an hour about the trip, the hotel, and the vastness of Manhattan. After the call, Sooley sat in his bed with the lights off and scanned dozens of photos his teammates were posting.

He had never felt so alone.



* * *



·?·?·

At nine the next morning, Miss Ida was waiting on schedule in front of the dorm when Samuel walked out. He was wearing his new clothes—navy blazer, khakis, white shirt, and the lovely tie Jordan had given him for Christmas. He had never worn a tie before and Murray had spent an hour teaching him the proper knot. He had practiced a hundred times.

Miss Ida inspected him and was quite impressed. They got in her car and she drove thirty minutes to the Raleigh field office of the U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services. Their ten o’clock appointment with a case manager was so important that the date and time could not be moved. Both Miss Ida and Sooley had tried to reschedule so he could make the trip to New York with the team, but they had not been successful. There was an enormous backlog of cases. The USCIS offices were understaffed, and so on. Sooley was desperate to push along his quest for citizenship, and, besides, he wasn’t going to play basketball anyway.

They spent an hour sitting on folding chairs in a crowded hallway and watched foreigners come and go. At 11:15, Samuel’s name was called and he and Miss Ida were directed to a small corner office where they were greeted by a pleasant young man who apologized for making them wait. They sat with their knees touching his metal desk and chatted about college life at Central. The office had no windows and the thermostat seemed to be stuck on 80.

Reading from a printout, the case manager went through a series of useless questions, most of which Samuel answered with either a “Yes” or a “No.” Both answers pleased the man and he made some important entries in the case file. Twenty minutes after entering the office, they quickly left and hustled outside for fresh air. The entire meeting could have easily been handled over the phone or by email in less than ten minutes.

Miss Ida said, “They just wanted to lay eyes on you, that’s all.”