Swatting Sudanian Saved Our Season

Tall transfer turns nightmare start into a heavenly playoff run

Our knobbly-knees redheaded five-foot-six point guard Tyler Holt kicked a trash can over in the visiting locker room. The contents went flying freely in every direction that January 21, 1984 evening.

The scoreboard read: Canton C-hawks 57, Vermillion Tanagers 39. It was my Vermillion High School boys basketball team’s seventh straight loss, dropping us to 1–7 on the season.

“We suck!” Glenn Martin hollered in our locker room.

Martin’s comment was spot on.

Canton was normally the worst team in the Big Six, but already the Tanagers were way worse with an oh-and-5 record halfway through conference play.

Festivus miracle needed

I was the backup point guard and sat in silence with my head buried in both my hands, then looked up and exclaimed, “We need a miracle to happen, an answered prayer, or find a four-leaf clover. We need a whole lot of luck.

Little did my terrible Tanager team know we would be getting our four-leaf clover, answered prayer, and miracle the following Monday.

Athletic director David Varnett walked into the gym unaccompanied by a 7-foot rail-thin student.

“Coach, can I talk to you?” Varnett said to coach Jeff Corey.

“Sure. Who is this?”

Sultan of Sudan

“I want to introduce you to Faraj Lul,” Varnett said. “He’s an exchange student from South Sudan. He said he’s played a little basketball in Tonj and would be interested in playing here.”

“Hello, couch,” said the dark-skinned Faraj with a very strong accent.

“Hello, Faraj,” Corey said as his eyes traveled up Faraj’s white dress shirt to make eye contact.

Immediately, ideas on how to utilize a 7-footer started dribbling then slam dunk around in Corey’s game-planning head.

“Oh, I think we can find a place for you,” Corey said. “You are very tall, Faraj.

“Yas,” is all Farah answered with an awkward chuckle.

Excited new teammates

“Dang,” Oliver Alexander said. “Whoever prayed for a 7-foot center from Sudan to save our season. Thank you.”

“New offense,” Dan Schmidt jested. “Feed the rock to the new, big guy. Just throw it up, super high.”

Alley-oop often,” joked Vincent Warner.

“Does the dude even need to jump to dunk?” I asked.

“Only over a few encyclopedias,” remarked Steve Blackrock.

Trouble adjusting

It wasn’t an easy transition for Faraj, both due to the language barrier and his long physique. He had to use one of the large teacher tables for a desk, strategically placed in the back of the room.

Then there was the Second Sudanese War going on in Faraj’s homeland.

“We are in a tragic war,” he said in the brink of tears. “Nearly six million die due to famine and diseases, too.

He continued as a tear dripped down his cheek “One of longest civil wars. So far last over 20 years.”

‘Whatchu talking bout, Faraj?’

Although shy, Faraj gradually came out of his Sudanian shell, and had a hilarious and dry sense of humor. He enjoyed watching “Who’s the Boss,” “Cheers,” and “Different Strokes.” He loved uttering the words, “Whatchu talking bout, Willis?”

My best friend Vincent Warner and his family were gracious hosts, having him over weekly for dinner — pizza, chicken nuggets, and lasagna his favorites. Vicent turned him on to rock music. Faraj quickly started banging his head to Def Lepard, Rush, Van Halen, and Quiet Riot. It was quite a sight.

‘We want Faraj! We want Faraj!’

Our Tanager gym was stuffed like a sardine can to see Faraj’s premiere against Beresford. It was your typical yawner as we trailed at the half, 26–22, when the chats began, “We want Faraj! We want Faraj!”

A four-point run by the Watchdogs, and Corey had seen enough and called for Faraj to make his USA, South Dakota, and Vermillion High School debut. Our fans went bonkers! You’d think Bono, Mick Jagger, or the Beatles had just taken the court.

The Swatting Sudanian

First, Beresford shot. Pow! A block. Then another. And another. It completely altered Beresford’s attack. Mac Burgeson, their all-conference center, had 10 points at half and eight rebounds, but didn’t score again and grabbed only two more boards.

Our valiant Vermillion squad — behind 12 Faraj blocks, six points, and 11 rebounds — emerged victorious, 47–39. A tall shiny star was born. Or discovered along with a new flashy nickname: The Swatting Sudanian.

That was just the beginning

We discovered how easily the lean 7-footer made life, and that instantly started to make our jobs on the court simpler. Our confidence exploded. Our chemistry became cohesive.

Few-words Faraj

Faraj certainly wasn’t much of an interview.

When local reporter Plain Talk Buck Harvey would interview him, the answers were short.

What’d you think of your play?

“Is good. We played good.”

How have you adjusted to America?

“It’s good. I like America.”

What’s your favorite thing here?

“I like the Def Leppard. Is good music. Relax me. Pizza is good.”

Season finale showdown

In our regular-season finale against the league’s top team, Brandon Valley, Faraj, played his best game, pouring in 24 points, blocking 13 shots, and pulling down 15 rebounds. A 68–53 win marked our ninth straight W, and pushed our season record to 10–7, placing us at 5–5 in conference, and in fourth place.

Besides his mad swatting skills, Faraj was quietly developing a deadly short-range turnaround jump shot and a Kareem Abdul-like hook, thanks to coach Corey letting Faraj into the gym in the wee hours of the mornings.

“Takes the mind off home problems,” Faraj said. “And good practice.”

Regional rematch

Finally, it was the night of the regional championship against mighty Yankton, who annihilated our pre-Faraj Tanagers, 69–44, back in December, which now seemed stone ages ago to us.

Our whole town was fired up for Faraj Fever.

However, 60-year-old seasoned coach Winfred Dubose and his Yankton Bucks had a beautiful plan. They executed the perfect game, putting power forward Tim Conklin to bully, harass, bump, elbow, and everything else to throw off Faraj’s game.

And it worked.

Halftime: Yankton 30, Vermillion 21. Conklin, though, had three fouls, and quickly picked up his fourth. As he sat, I came off the bench to nail three straight jumpers, while booming dunks by Faraj helped us jump to a convincing 40–34 lead with three minutes to go in the third quarter.

Conklin was ordered to start banging bodies with Faraj.

His fifth foul

With the score tied at 45 and five seconds left in the quarter, Conklin went darting to the hoop, Faraj bravely stepped in front and took a charge. Conklin fouled out.

We cruised from that point on, pulling away, 65–54.

Faraj where in the world did you learn that?

“Is Patrick Ewing. I see him do that. I say, ‘I can do that, too.’ ‘’

The state championship

We were packed and ready to travel to Sioux Falls for the state championship, featuring the top 16 teams in the state of South Dakota.

Our town was in complete pandemonium. Deals on restaurants. Bulletin boards with giant pictures of Faraj’s 7-foot figure. He was the big man on campus in more ways than one.

The day of the big tournament had come. Sioux Falls was only 45 minutes away, so we planned to leave at noon for the 4 p.m. game against Mitchell. The mayor was present, cars were painted, and the cheerleaders were louder than ever. It was like a Laker championship parade. Our high-school band played Queen tunes.

Everyone was fired up.

There was only one problem.

Where was Faraj?

Faraj was nowhere to be seen.

Coach called us into the locker room.

“Guys, as you all know there is a civil war going on in Faraj’s hometown in Tonj. He said his family was in danger, and he needed to be there. Immediately. He left in the middle of the night.

“He cried. He was so upset. He felt so torn, but he knew his love and devotion for his family had to come first. He hoped they were still alive. He was scared, worried, and not sure what he could do, but he said he had to be there. He told me to tell every single one of you how much you meant to him. He said, ‘tell them I love them all.’

‘Go win that damn state championship’

Then our coach tried to do his best broken English/Sudanese accent, “Go win that damn state championship. For me. The Swatting Sudanian. And my family and country. Make me your inspiration. Do good.”

I walked out of the locker room. Confused. Sad, but respecting Faraj so much. Wishing I had a chance to say goodbye, and tell him how much he meant to me, this team, this town, and what a great ride this season had been.

It was a quiet bus ride. All of us were saddened by the departure of our dear Sudanian friend. Instead of the Police, Def Lepard, or Van Halen, we played Chicago’s “You’re the Inspiration.”

I peeked over at Vincent Warner and caught him brushing back a tear.

Game time

The Mitchell Kernels (16–4) were a deep, talented crew. We’d have trouble beating them even with Faraj.

“We’ve worked too hard to quit now,” coach Corey barked out in the pre-game huddle. “Play as one unit. Go out there and make Faraj proud.

Tyler Holt had this crazed look in his eyes, then just yelled for the whole gymnasium to hear, “Let’s win it for Faraj.

We hung with them for the first half, trailing by only seven, but then were trounced, 77–52.

Our dream season over just like that.

Tears poured out from all my teammates’ eyes

Under Pressure

Then I remembered the note Faraj had given me recently in English class. I had kept it in my sweaty sock for good luck. I got it out and read it to myself.

“It’s the terror of knowing what the world is about/Watching some good friends/screaming/‘Let me out’/Pray tomorrow gets me higher, high/Pressure on people, people on streets.” — “Under Pressure” by Queen and David Bowie.

Did he know he was leaving? It was the song we both listened to, connected to, and sang together. We’d stay up countless nights until 2 a.m. waiting until MTV played the video.

Our team was under enormous pressure without Faraj. This— of course — pales in comparison to the life-or-death pressure Faraj and his family faced in his war-torn country of Sudan on a daily basis.

I never heard from him again, but always hope and pray he is okay.

And I think of our wonderful season almost every day — and especially when “Under Pressure” plays on the radio.

Thanks for reading my story.

Tagging all you city ballers shooting hoops at the playground in New York City until 2 a.m. (or any Queen or David Bowie fans): Scot Butwell, Gerald Sturgill, Klara Jane Holloway, Sreese, Jameson Steward, Ning Choi, Lu Skerdoo, Alison Levine, Janet Meisel, Adelina Vasile, Evon, Jan Sebastian, Victoria Valentine, The Sober Vegan Yogi, Bernice Puzon, Deborah Camp, Kristine Laco, Alicia Domínguez, Diana Meresc, Jane Kelley, MarkfromBoston 🌻Ukraine.

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