Last night a DBR contingent set out to go see Shavlik Randolph and Broughton
play Leesville High, led by Anthony Richardson, who is FSU bound (grades
willing).Â
Knowing the neighborhood well after living on Devereux Street for three
years, Julio went in the back way, at the 7 Even store, assuming there was
parking back there. But there wasn't. And on Clay Street, it was
difficult just to get down the narrow way, made even tighter by cars parked on
both shoulders. The lot off of Clay at Fred Fletcher park, an old haunt,
was also packed, so what to do? Being a local the answer was easy - go around the corner and park in
a lot which almost borders Broughton - and was almost empty. What an
advantage there is to knowing a place!
From there a short walk over to the high bank facing St. Mary's street, where
the touching monument to a murdered former student stands, and from there drift
in with the crowds to the gym, set in the back with more space than your average
high school gym, in North Carolina at least.
On the way, though, a couple stopped Julio and told him the game was sold out
- a half hour before game time. He stopped and called Carlos, who writes the
astonishing game previews found this season on DBR, to ask him if he was in or
out.
He was out.Â
So were about 200 odd people, all irritated and anxious. You've never
seen more cell phones worked in one plaza in your life: everyone calling someone
to get in. We did too. We made several calls to try and pull off a
last-minute miracle, a Laettner of admissions, but it was all for naught.Â
There was just no getting in that building last night unless you got there
early. And more's the pity, too, because from all accounts, Randolph played
the game of his life, and a sensational game it was.
Meanwhile, for a few more lingering minutes, Julio and Carlos tried to work
the cell phone magic, trying like the character in Lawnmower man, to find a way,
in rather than out of course, but just as in his case, every way we thought of
was blocked. Eventually, we turned and left, hoping that at some point soon we
could go back and see him again.Â
The crowd outfront still milled around, high school girls dressed to
the 9s, high school boys in choreographed disarray, and a number of older,
infrequent visitors looking distinctly out of sorts.
And inside, before Coach K, Coach Sendek, and doubtless other coaches,
Randolph took
his game to another level and pushed the ardor of his recruiters to another
level as well.