Sooley(57)

On the inbound, Sooley made eye contact with Murray, who had the ball, and broke for the corner. Murray’s pass was perfect, and before any Howard player could react, Sooley was soaring toward the roof from 30 feet with a perfect jumper. He followed it with two more from long range, and the windows in the old gym were rattling.

As a rookie, Sooley was aware of the protocol, and the last thing he wanted was loose talk in the locker room, the kind of tension created by a freshman hotshot who hogged the ball. He passed up a good look and fired a beautiful pass to Roy Tice, who lost it out of bounds. As the clock ticked it became apparent that none of his teammates could buy a basket. Howard was tall and tough inside and gave up nothing. No problem. Sooley backed away, peeled off a screen, and hit his fourth straight from beyond the arc. He missed his next two and began passing. At 3:35, he came out for a breather and watched Howard go up by six. With a minute to go in the half, Roy Tice, a real banger inside, picked up his third foul and Lonnie yanked him. Down by three, and with the ball, Murray killed some clock and set up the last play. His pass was slapped away and rolled to Sooley, who was almost at mid-court. His defender backed away, daring him to shoot, and with eight seconds to go, he did. Wide open, he skied anyway, and lofted a beautiful shot that tied the score.

The crowd roared even louder, and the team hustled to the locker room with the chant of “Sooley! Sooley Sooley!” in the background.

He had 14 points, four threes, and a dunk. He was the offense, and at that moment his teammates were willing to put the game on his back. So were the coaches. They huddled away from the players and agreed on the strategy: Just get the damned ball to Sooley.

All eyes were on him as he sat on the bench for the first three very long minutes of the second half. When Coach Britt called his name and he walked to the scorer’s table, the crowd reacted. So did Howard, but it was impossible to defend a long jump shot cocked high above the head of a 6'7" player who could spring over the backboard. He hit two of them, missed the third, and when he hit his third—and seventh out of nine—Howard called time. Their coach decided that the only way to stop him was to foul, and hard.

Sooley spent most of the second half at the free throw line, calmly making 10-of-12. He finished the game with 39, half the team’s total, and the third most in school history. Howard, humbled, limped home with a 12-point loss.

Late that night in their dorm room, Sooley and Murray had a delightful time on social media. The Central faithful were lighting it up. Girls were calling and leaving all manner of messages. Sooley’s phone number was out there and the texts poured in by the dozens.



* * *



·?·?·

On Friday, February 12, the Eagles missed classes and rode the bus five hours to Baltimore. At one o’clock the following day, they defeated Coppin State by 18 points. Sooley, still coming off the bench but playing 29 minutes, scored 31 and blocked four shots. They spent two more nights in Baltimore, and on Monday beat Morgan State by 15 in a wild shootout. The Eagles put up 98 points, 36 by Sooley. Back home the following Saturday, they beat South Carolina State by 14 in front of a standing-room-only crowd. The win, their seventh straight, evened their record at 13–13. Though there was now talk of playing in March, they were well aware that their slow start would be hard to overcome.

Coach Britt gave them Sunday off but wanted them to report to the gym anyway. The team doctor had ordered routine physicals. Sooley weighed in at 227 and measured six feet seven and a half, still growing. The team’s press guide, printed the previous November, listed him at 6'6", 210 pounds.

The next day Murray showed him how to change his phone number.





CHAPTER 40





The tents were not designed to serve as permanent and began to deteriorate after six months in the elements. The rainy season was over but the water and mud had stained them so badly that the rows of crisp white tents were now a hodgepodge of brown dwellings patched with strips of old clothes and scraps of plastic and sheet metal. Some sagged, others completely collapsed, still others had been moved to other sections of the sprawling camp, many replaced by shanties erected with cardboard and whatever materials could be found. The baking sun further eroded the tents’ stitching, seams, and zippers. Patching the holes became a daily chore.

Beatrice purchased three bright blue tarps at the market, one for her, two for her friends on either side, and they draped them over their roofs and tried to secure them with baling wire. The tarps were a luxury and soon attracted unwanted attention.

Each morning they arose early and left to find a line at a food distribution point. After breakfast, she and her friends walked their eight children to school an hour away. Another friend, an elderly gentleman across the alley, kept an eye on their tents. Beatrice paid him with tins of canned meat.

Tensions were mounting in the camp as ethnic rivalries spilled over the border, and as the war back home raged on. The Dinka were blamed by the Huer, Bari, and Azande for causing the current war, the atrocities, the diaspora that forced them into the refugee camps. Insults were common and then the fighting began. Teenagers and old men in gangs attacked each other with sticks and rocks. Ugandan soldiers were sent in to quell the violence, and their presence became part of life at Rhino. With hatreds that went back for decades, the atmosphere was tense, a powder keg waiting for a match.

One morning Beatrice and her friends returned from the walk to school and at first noticed nothing unusual. The coveted blue tarps were in place, but inside the tents everything was gone. Thieves had slashed gaps in the rear of the tents and stolen their food, clothing, blankets, pillows, empty water jugs, the Central tee shirts and souvenirs, everything. Their guard, the old man across the alley, and a Dinka, was missing.