Papa Lo: The Forgotten Senegalese Minuteman

When recalling a player like Papa Lo, we can't turn to numbers or stats. Papa was a mediocre bench player for Umass at best, and to turn this story over to a discussion of points, blocks and minutes would be a waste of time. Papa, whether he knew it or not, played an important role for the Umass Minuteman in his one year he gave as a freshman second stringer. He was the wild card, the oddball, the goober. Fans love this type. If he scores or gets a block or even gets a rebound then the whole place goes nuts. As a coach, putting the goofy guy in is a way to fish for momentum. If the guy gives you nothing after after five or six minutes then sub in a well-rested and better player.

The trouble with players like Lo (tall, lanky, slightly uncoordinated) is that there is no place for them in the NBA. Players these days are too athletic. There is no advantage to being tall when other guys are both tall and built. Lo didn't have to travel to the NBA to experience this. The Atlantic 10 has enough big men to make Lo feel like the string bean that he is. Another thing that Papa does not have going for him is that he doesn't like basketball. He'd actually rather be playing soccer, but unfortunately he's better at basketball. Playing collegiate hoops was his ticket to a free education in the states, and for Lo, becoming an engineer and contributing to the development of Senegal is his greatest ambition.

If Lo was driven enough to try his luck in the NBA his chances would still remain bleak. However, there are sources of inspiration that Papa may consider looking into:

Wilt Chamberlain a.k.a "Wilt the Stilt"

Chamberlain was 7'1 and very lanky. He did eventually bulk up significantly but he remained a gangly superstar throughout the 1960's. Chamberlain's physical development could be instructional to a young player like Papa Lo. Take a look at Chamberlain in high school......

Players in the NBA today just look more comfortable with the basketball. They also appear to be more comfortable in their uniforms. Chamberlain looks like he can barely dribble in those first few shots, but by looking at his career it is easy to observe that he possessed the raw talent that Lo lacks. Papa Lo similarly does not look comfortable in his uniform or with the basketball. Neither did this guy, but he could do this:

Manute Bol

At 7'7 Bol was the tallest guy to ever enter the NBA before George Muresan entered the league years later. Bol, like Lo, was raised in Africa and came to the States to play basketball. Lo is nowhere near Bol in terms of height, but they are both total goofballs that are primarily out there to block shots. Bol however, is a three-point shooter? Yes, that's right. If Manute Bol hits a three to put the 76ers up late in the fourth then they will win that game. Manute's awkwardness turns into genius.

I don't think Papa Lo has what it takes to be a "Wilt the Stilt" or a Manute Bol, but that is not to say I don't think he has come a long way with a sport that he feels impartial towards. I just root for guys like Lo because they're different.

So now we know that Papa Lo's potential is limited. But that wasn't the real point of all this. What I originally wanted to know was the whereabouts of Lo. After the 07-08 season at Umass he disappeared. Since then, it has come to my attention that he has taken a year off, he has married his wife Moumy, and he now lives with her in Rhode Island where he plays for Bryant University. He starts at center, but Bryant was the only Division one basketball school that was unable to lock down a single victory this past season.

After failing to respond to my e-mail in which I requested an interview, I decided to catch up with Papa in the only way I saw possible--his past. Seeing as how it was very difficult to find a photo that featured Lo's lower body, you can imagine that there is not much on this man. He did attend his English 112 in Bartlett hall.

Lo stood at 81 inches. That's ten inches taller than me. I have no problem going through the doors of Bartlett but for Lo, nothing was easy. It is my suspicion that he used to duck through these doors on his way to class.

It is beyond suspicion and indeed fact that Papa Lo was one of the only students to use the elevator in Bartlett. His Freshman writing professor recalls him speaking of the convenience and luxury of rising to the second floor twice a week. The doorway turned out to be a sufficient height for Lo which may have added to the elevator's charm.

Surely there have been other basketball players that have ducked under the front entrance of Bartlett, but there is a reason why I am not standing on a table and measuring their respective heights in a doorway. They will be forgotten and so will Papa Lo. So I ask you to please remember him. Remember the emphatic cheers that boomed from the crowd when he entered the game and remember what it felt like to have him come through with a block or a nice board. Unexpected yet deserving, and ultimately rewarding.

Disc Golf Insider Outs Himself as Loser

Who's that guy? He looks pretty cool, huh? Think again. That's me. I'm a twenty-two year old disc golfer and self-admitting loser. After being submerged in disc golf culture for almost a year I have come to the realization that it is not bettering my life in any way. I made that putt in the photo above, but it is irrelevant.

I was introduced to disc golf by a friend of mine who appears to be a really cool guy.

Think again. This is Twitter, a disc golf senior and total loser. He taught me the rules, terminology, and proper etiquette of the game. The first time I ever played, Twitter drove me to a course in Athol, MA on gas money that he made from bottle returns. He was a real die-hard and I admired that about him. I once saw him dive into a pond to retrieve a disc in the midst of a late August thunderstorm. He emerged from the water clutching a Champion Boss (his favorite disc) in his right hand like a golden nugget plucked from a junkyard.

The combination of Twitter and myself elicited a dangerous reaction. I soon developed the same insatiable appetite for disc golf that Twitter already had. We were negative forces on each other disguised as blessings. The dishes piled up in our homes, the bills went unpaid, and friends were lost. Gradually, little inklings of truth gathered inside me like raindrops falling in a coffee cup. One day, my friend Raiarox came with Twitter and I to the Northampton course and filmed a few throws. After watching the footage of one of my near aces, it fell on me like a cloudburst. We were losers. Disc golfing is designed for losers. We had gone from two mature, seemingly cool guys to pathetic, childlike idiots.

It wasn't just the immature celebration that led to me to these conclusions, but it was something more, something larger. It was many aspects of the game, of the culture, and of my life.

The Excuse

Very often a disc golfer in denial will come up with excuses as to why he or she is spending so much time on the course. A common defense is "I'm not really into the whole disc golf thing. I just like walking around the woods and drinking beers." A nice try, but not good enough. Once you start drinking beers and playing disc golf the two actions become one in the same. They don't exist apart. When drunk, the discer craves a round of disc golf instead of the usual vices: sex and junk food. I can't tell you how many times I have blacked out and found myself in bed the next morning with a crumpled scorecard in my pocket and a putter between my thighs.

To focus the attention on drinking as the habit only makes the individual seem more guilty. Take this table for example:

I didn't make this table. I know the guy that did. His name is Bucket. We can assume that the focus here is on beer since the table is a collage of beer caps. If we take a closer look at the table we can see what all of Bucket's drinking is centered around.

Disc golf. Yes folks, that is a picture of a disc golf basket and that is also a disc placement marker, one of the dorkiest disc golf accessories next to-

The Bag

A basic Jansport backpack works just fine but disc golfers like to take everything to the next level. Keep in mind that a really cool disc golf bag is an indication of a big time chump..

In the past five years there has been a spike in the number of old coolers used as disc bags. After Twitter landed himself a cooler bag (shown on Raiarox's left) I decided that I had needed to outdo him. My cooler bag (shown on Raiarox's right) comes with an AM/FM radio and Ipod capabilities. But please don't be fooled. Neither the battery powered cooler bag or the conventional cooler bag will help save a disc golfer's image. It will only make him look worse to an outsider or a disillusioned insider such as myself.

The Ghetto Basket

I do hope that you will never go this far. This picture was taken when Twitter and I were at the height of our addiction. We found the wheelchair and the base of a grill at a dump on Cape Cod and we managed to jerry-rig this basket together somehow. The weather vane on the top was a touch that Twitter put together.

Added Twitter, "I'm a disc golfer first, but I'm also an artist. Most people don't know that about me." It is true. The kid has some ingenuity, I will give him that.

The ghetto basket serves no real purpose but to practice putting at home. It's not worth the time or the insults you will receive from friends. It also looks like you are wheeling around an injured disc golf basket.

The Paradox

Learning the rules of disc golf is a terrible idea. In fact, the more you know about the game the worse off you are going to be. There are hyzer and anhyzer shots. If you know what either of these mean then dear help you god, you have entered the realm.

The man on the left is Ken Climo, arguably the best disc golfer in the world. I take my visor off to anyone who knew that, but I do encourage you to forget about Ken Climo at all costs. Looking at this photo, we see a dorky looking fellow next to the 12 time world champion. Well it just so happens that this "dork" is actually a cooler guy than the great Ken Climo. This is what I call the "paradox." It would make sense for most disc golfers to be losers, but there must be exceptions, right? Think again. The best disc golfers in the world are undeniably the biggest losers on Earth. They have the coolest bags, the most accessories, and endless amounts of disc golf knowledge. Sounds like the perfect blueprints needed to build a tool shed. This picture is almost telling enough. The man next to Climo has a rare vintage Simpsons shirt which looks pretty cool in comparison to Climo's shirt which is completely absent. In addition, wearing no shirt at all turns out to be a really annoying gesture. Case proven.

The Chains

Knowing what I know, I can honestly say the only thing that keeps me coming back for more is the chains. There is no prettier sound than a Champion Teebird grabbing a beak full of chains on a clear day when you can see the path of its flight open up like an ancient highway. Disc golfers rocket their discs off the tee pad and then cup a hand over one year as if listening for the response to a mating call. A common bond that we discers share is the fondness we have for the sound of chains, and that is why we press on in light of disheartening information such as what is contained in this article. We cannot be foolish, though. By nature, we are outsiders. I leave you with this clip which expresses my ambivalent feelings towards disc golf.

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