Frenchies

The only time I stepped on the hardwood at the AT&T Center was when I was a Spurs “Ball Kid” in 2004 as a 10 year old. I saw Tim, Tony, and Manu in person and couldn’t believe how big they were. I thought that was the closest I would ever get to the Spurs.

A few days ago, I watched Danny Green, Corey Joseph and Kawhi Leonard practice mid-range jumpers from the sideline. I was sitting next to Tony Parker’s mom, talking to her about how us 20 something year olds are growing closer to the Spurs (especially the big three) as they age with us.

I was only sitting there because of two Frenchmen from Reunion Island. One of them was living in my parent’s house.

Nelson and Nathan were the first basketball players in their organization, Region Reunion, to come to the United States. Tony’s mother knew their coach and made this opportunity possible for them through her connections. They would play basketball for my alma mater, Central Catholic High School, and hopefully get noticed by college coaches in order to move to the next level. My mother is the school’s secretary and she would easily be able to accommodate one of the “Frenchies” with more room in the house after I left for UNT. She also had my senior brother at Central and a convenient schedule that lined up with basketball practice.

Nelson, shy and tall at 6’2, moved his things into the front room in September.  He spoke very little English yet he was supposed to take regular junior level classes at a college preparatory high school. A veteran English teacher would try to explain the literary meaning behind Huckleberry Fin, and an outgoing History teacher would describe what caused the American Revolution. After several months, it is still an understandably difficult transition.

Then Tony Parker’s mom offered to take them to a Spurs game last week. She extended the invitation to the kids they were living with—My brother and Sophomore Travis Berlanga. However, my brother is violently indifferent to all sports teams; even the one thriving in San Antonio. He declined the invitation and I was next in line.

I shook Tony’s hand and slurped up a little bit of drool. I was geeking out more than I did when I was a Ball Kid.  He spoke a little bit of French to Nelson and Nathan, who were equally star struck. Boris was very approachable and asked where they went to school (in French, of course). 

While they were talking, Kawhi was dribbling the ball so hard we could feel our legs vibrate. Watching him crossover from one claw to the next, I thought about what it would be like to guard that beast. It was a surreal experience. 

I saw Tim Duncan’s aged and expressionless face when I realized I probably wouldn’t see him in a Spurs jersey this close ever again. We snapped a quick picture with him and he ducked away into the tunnel just as I said “you’re a hero Tim!” I don’t think he heard me, but I don’t care.

He posted yet another double-double against Miami that night.