Playground Legends
On Thursday I will be going to the home of Laura Ingalls Wilder – the woman behind “The Little House on the Prairie.” De Smet, South Dakota, population < 1000 has changed considerably since the early 20th century. For one thing, they play a lot of football now.
My coworker N is taking me to his hometown to watch his high school team play – their 8-0 record puts them as a first seed in the coming playoffs. He was talking up a storm about his younger brother on the team and all the other teammates. This storm – these legends – made me think about Nairobi. We have legends too.
There is the unforgettable Diamond – make sure you pronounce it properly: “Diyamond,” who played midfield for St. Mary’s. It wasn’t his Brazilian footwork that got you though, it was how he played keep-away with the ball and managed to curse at you at the same time. You and anyone else who got close enough to even think of taking the ball from him. Wherever you are, “Diya,” make sure you’ve got those shin guards strapped on tight for all those tackles from the back you are liable to receive.
Not too far from St. Mary’s, near Lavington Green a gigantic African named Aloise played basketball at Strathmore. Strathmore were well known for their school cheers:
“Ah-Strath-EE-AHH!”
“AH!!!!”
“Ah-Strath-EE-EHH!”
“EH!!!!”
Aloise was a big Kenyan: maybe 6’5” or so. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was well into his 20s when we played against him. Kenyan schools are known for *extremely* good retention of talented athletes – retention that often pushed age limits in an embarrassing way. There was an ancient kid at L’ École de Français (French School), “Mami,” who played varsity basketball for 8 or 9 years. It was worth it to watch an entire game of basketball for that one moment where Aloise would have enough time, control and space to dunk the basketball. Even though most of his goliath status was a bluff (I’m proud to say we never took a loss to Strathmore) his Jordan-esque tomahawk jams made for a nice break in the action.
What about the skinny Indian kid, Ali, who played soccer at an upcountry school? If you aren’t from Kenya “upcountry school” may not mean much to you but I’ll translate: poor schools outside the city, usually rough and tumble – even the “guys” would wait until we got back to Nairobi to go to the bathroom. So it was a surprise to see this small Indian character step onto the pitch with 10 Africans who obviously held a deep respect for him and then watch him dominate. Unlike Diya, who loudly cursed anyone in a 15’ radius, Ali was just busy. Busy embarrassing people.
There were so many legends out there: Heath “MAHeetho”, Vinnie “Cheezewizz”, Adrian “AD”1, Piet Bol – rumored to be the younger cousin of the Manute Bol, Immanuel “I’m from British” Sharland…
I was surprised to find out that I was a legend too. I say this without arrogance, more with complete surprise: I ran into a kid from L’ École de Français and he told me excitedly that I was the first kid in Nairobi to dribble the ball behind my back repeatedly while moving forward in a fast break. The moment he said that I remembered it all clearly: in 1989 the Michigan Wolverines played Seton Hall for the NCAA tournament final. In the opening minutes of the game Rumeal Robinson dribbled down the court on a fast break and, while assessing his options, dribbled the ball behind his back while moving forward. I practiced the move. In my sleep. On the court. In our driveway. At school during lunchtime. I signed my school papers: David “Rumeal Robinson” Seruyange. Maybe if the Francophone kid had seen Rumeal he wouldn’t have noticed but he saw me do it and remembered.
If I were to ask a kid in Desmet tomorrow of Rumeal Robinson, they wouldn’t have any idea who I was talking about. As far as I know Rumeal’s pro career is over and there is so much buzz about modern NBA stars it would take a nostalgic old-timer or a real basketball-historian-enthusiast (yes, not likely) to get even a vague memory.
But maybe being a legend is just doing something that someone remembers. Something someone can inflate. Is there any difference between the fading memories of a fast break in the 1990 match-up of L’ École de Français and Rosslyn Academy or the Michigan and Seton Hall2? Both are fading memories in the mind of a select few –
Are you a legend?
1We thought by walking pigeon-toed, like AD, we would jump higher
2Before the delusion of grandeur fits, I acknowledge several million more people watch the NCAA tournament. But what would a blog be with some delusion of grandeur? Think rhetorical question here…
7:51:08 AM 
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