Life in the NBDL (Tierre Brown mention)

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/A21844-2004Feb7.html
It's an On-Going Development
NBA Hopefuls Trudge Through the NBDL, Waiting to Get Their Call
By William Gildea
Washington Post Staff Writer
Sunday, February 8, 2004; Page E01


CHARLESTON, S.C. --

Ime Udoka's mind is wandering. He's standing in a trendy women's clothing store, next to a rack of things designed to fit skimpy and snug. The clothes hold no interest for him. His fantasies are consumed by one thing, as they often are with all players in the National Basketball Development League: making it to the NBA.



Udoka leaves the store, where he and teammate Jason Miskiri have recorded a feature segment for NBA-TV, and they join publicist Adam Epstein for the drive back from the elegant homes and tony stores to the apartment complex where the Charleston Lowgators live, a block removed from a traffic-choked commercial strip off I-26, on the other side of a fence from a trailer park.

They have driven only a few minutes when Epstein's cell goes off. It's Udoka's agent, calling from Chicago. Udoka takes the phone and listens intently.

"Okay," he says. "Yeah. Ooooh. Man, it sounds great. Yeah, definitely. Bye."

The Lakers want him. The Los Angeles Lakers! To replace the injured Kobe Bryant!

"I'm flying out tonight," Udoka says.

"Damn," says Miskiri from the back seat.

Within minutes, Udoka is in his apartment, sweeping his few possessions from a closet and bureau into a duffel bag. His roommate, Tierre Brown, drives him to the airport. The Lakers are playing the Denver Nuggets at Staples Center the next night, when the Lowgators will be at North Charleston Coliseum to face the Asheville Altitude.

Life in the NBDL, a three-year-old NBA-subsidized minor league that dots six mid-sized southern cities, is a succession of bus rides to uncelebrated games in drafty arenas. But it is also a repository of dreams -- for the phone call bearing a summons to the big time.

This year, however, those calls have been rare. On the day the Lakers called up Udoka, only two other players had moved up to the NBA. And one had already been sent back down.

"Play like every game's your last," Brown advises Udoka outside the terminal.

A Certain Emptiness

The next night, there might be 200 fans in the 8,451-seat coliseum to see the Lowgators play Asheville. On the concourse, many of the concession stands are closed. Whole sections of the arena are empty. The squeak of players' shoes can be heard clearly in the top rows. As an Asheville player shoots a free throw during the game, he faces a Lowgators fan, alone behind the basket, banging a single pair of green-and-orange ThunderStix, the noisemakers that in multiples of thousands at big-time college games create a tumultuous backdrop for visiting players. In North Charleston, it is cacophony of one.

As the players sometimes say, "That's life in the D League."

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On disembarking, the players unfolded their long bodies, relishing the freedom of movement as much as they would the upcoming snacks.



Patrons in the Marathon store looked startled as nine tall men walked in. Tierre Brown sized up the possibilities, and darted across the road to McDonald's. He was mildly booed as he boarded the bus, which had to wait for him. "Over two-thirds of the way," DeJong said, enthusiastically.

As Roth resumed the movie, DeJong confidently took the curves on the shoulderless two-lane road, a narrow tunnel through the Georgia pines.

At 10:30 p.m., the destination came into view. It was a Holiday Inn out on a highway. And what was across the street?

It was the end of a runway. The Lowgators had traveled from the Charleston airport to the Columbus airport -- by bus.

End to the Show

Udoka relished the seismic difference between the NBDL and the NBA. Shaquille O'Neal, whom Udoka had met during the Lakers' training camp, welcomed him back with an affectionate, though unprintable, nickname. In video sessions, he sat next to Shaq, absorbing information.

At the home games, Udoka couldn't help noticing the Hollywood stars in their courtside seats. The "energy in the building" was like nothing he had known in the "D" league.

"And when the Lakers go on the road," he said, "it's like a big show coming to town."

But when most NBDL players get the coveted phone call to the big time, it's for just a 10-day contract, a brush with fame before an abrupt return to obscurity. Udoka's experience was no different.

"When Kobe came back from the injury," Udoka said, "that kind of hurt. I knew what was going to happen. You can't help being disappointed when you're sent back to the minor leagues, but you have to play through it and prove that the NBA is where you're supposed to be."

He had played in four games with the Lakers, averaging two points. Assistant coach Jim Cleamons sent him off encouragingly, with words Udoka wanted badly to believe: Keep working, be ready. With that, he flew back from the West Coast, to Huntsville, where the Lowgators were about to play. A few hours later, Udoka was back on the bus.