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Writer's pictureColin Bish

High Point's Juslin Bodo Bodo takes a Higher Road



Bodo Bodo loves Okok. 


With the scent of his mother’s signature dish in his head, Bodo Bodo trudges home along the dusty Yaoundé street.

 

Amid the hot night, he daydreams of his future football career – one filled with greatness.  


The ominous sound of footsteps behind him snaps the lanky 13-year-old boy back to reality. 


The noise grows louder. 


The footsteps near. 


Bodo Bodo feels uneasy. 


Why did this person not just walk past him?


Though extremely worried, he turns around. 


A man Bodo Bodo does not know stands inches away. 


“What would my dad do?” he thinks. Again.


The man then grabs his arm. 


SEARCH FOR SUCCESS


Juslin Bodo Bodo grew up in Yaoundé, Cameroon, with his father, Jean Claude Bodo, and his mother, Barbare Bertille Nyebe. 


They lived in a five-bedroom apartment – quite spacious if it did not also house his eight other siblings. Life never came easy for the family. 


While Bodo Bodo’s mother raised nine children, his father struggled finding work. Lack of income often left them worried about food. 


Bodo Bodo wanted to help, but a little kid could only do so much.


One day, an 11-year-old Bodo Bodo came home from school, stomach grumbling hungrily. He hoped Dad brought something to eat. 


Entering the living room, Bodo Bodo saw neither Dad nor dinner. He ambled into his bed, unable to sleep.

 

Stomach churning even harder, Bodo Bodo wondered if he would eat tonight or even tomorrow. 


So Bodo Bodo turned to his faith, kneeling at his bedside. His mother always reminded him how a strong relationship with God could help his loved ones.

 

Finishing his prayer, Bodo Bodo waited a few seconds and opened his eyes. 


Nothing. Still no food. The little boy remained hungry. 


He tried praying again. Nothing.


Bodo Bodo prayed once more. Nothing.


Except a voice.

 

He ran to the living room, and saw his father.


Walking inside.


With food. 


He brought okok leaves, fried groundnuts, palm oil and cassava herbs. All the ingredients for Bodo Bodo’s beloved Okok. 


Somehow, his dad came through. Again. 


Every morning, Bodo Bodo’s father would leave for his mechanic job at seven a.m., returning at eight p.m. Jean Claude always ensured his wife and children had food, even if he had not eaten.


And despite his busy schedule, he also constantly helped others. If someone’s car broke down, he would fix it right at their home. And if a church needed improvements, money, or even food, Jean Claude always came through. Always.


Bodo Bodo had witnessed all of this.


And as he became full from the food his his father managed to obtain, he realized he still wanted more. No, he needed more. Not more food, though something equally vital to him: greatness.


Bodo Bodo needed to achieve greatness.


He needed to become like Dad. 


A NEW PATH 


Bodo Bodo applied his father’s abilities to his passion: soccer. He grew up practicing every day with hopes of becoming a great "footballer." 


Yet his dream faced much pushback. 


When Bodo Bodo reached six feet tall by 13, other kids incessantly teased him about his abnormal height.  


“Why are you so tall?” “Did you come from another planet?” “Why do you even play soccer?”


Bodo Bodo never let the teasing deter him. Emulating his father’s perseverance, he worked hard to prove them wrong. 


Bodo Bodo trained for hours, honing his passing and dribbling. 


While practicing one evening, Bodo Bodo’s friends convinced him to try basketball.


Reluctantly, he joined their well-organized game that even had a referee. 


Bodo Bodo finished with his dreams of soccer success intact and the scent of Okok in his head. 


Then he heard those footsteps. 


Then he wondered why the person did not walk around him. 


Then the man grabbed his arm.


Wait, that’s the referee.


Bodo Bodo, mind frozen by fear, thought he heard something about “potential” and “basketball.” 


The man would not let go until he got what he wanted – the phone numbers of Bodo Bodo’s parents.


Terrified, Bodo Bodo obliged. 


Returning home, he did not say a word. A couple of days passed. Bodo Bodo heard nothing from the man. Every day he walked home from school, cautiously looking around. 


Still with no idea what the man wanted, Bodo Bodo entered his home a week or so later and heard his parents talking quietly. 


They said a man called.

 

Bodo Bodo’s heart raced and arms shook. 


He knew exactly what man had talked to them. The referee. 


Turns out, the man was actually a coach. 


A coach for the Africans Can Play Basketball Academy named Roger Dassi. 


And Coach Roger just wanted to help. 


UNEXPECTED OPPORTUNITY

 

Coach Roger tried convincing Bodo Bodo’s parents of their son’s potential. Dad felt optimistic. Yet Mom hesitated. 


Having known many people who failed to balance basketball and school, she preferred Bodo Bodo to focus on grades. She additionally feared an inability to support their other children and also pay for rides to the Academy. 


Bodo Bodo saw his mother’s point, considering his family’s persistent financial problems. 

And soccer remained Bodo Bodo’s top priority. It would be his method of becoming great. 

His way of making Dad proud. 


School would give him security, while soccer came with greatness. Basketball felt too big a gamble, and pursuing it meant he would have to leave his family. 


Then Coach Roger said something. 


Bodo Bodo would not completely move away. Coach Roger offered to drive him back home on weekends to see his family. 


Ok, but . . .


He also explained how basketball provided Bodo Bodo a much better chance to achieve greatness than soccer.


Very persuasive. 


Yes, that meant giving up soccer, but now he understood basketball would truly give him what he needed.


What he needed to be like Dad. 


ONE DOOR CLOSES 


A week later, Bodo Bodo arrived at the Academy, an impressive two-story building.


He could not help but notice its unmistakable aura of professionalism. 


Wonderful, though not in the mind of Bodo Bodo.

 

He filled with nerves.


Might this place be too good for him? 


And he still knew very little about Coach Roger. 


He thought of his family, reminiscing about the nights they ate dinner together. 


Maybe it would not be too late to turn back.

 

But the sight of other kids practicing and Coach Roger’s enthusiastic coaching allayed Bodo Bodo’s distress. 


If these kids felt comfortable around Coach Roger, then certainly Bodo Bodo could trust him to be a great teacher. 


He could trust Coach Roger to help him become great. 


Arriving at his room, Bodo Bodo dozed off for a good night’s rest. 


ANOTHER OPENS 


“Wake up.” 


Opening his eyes, Bodo Bodo saw Coach Roger, shaking him from sleep to get ready for lifting. 


Looking over, the dresser clock read 5 a.m. 


Bodo Bodo followed Coach Roger to the weight room. After a grueling hour, he still had conditioning to do.

 

Coach Roger led Bodo Bodo to a set of stairs. Up and down, he ran for what felt like days. 


Bodo Bodo then fell to his knees, gasping for air.

 

Exhaustion weighed him to the ground.

 

Bodo Bodo tried standing up, falling from fatigue again.


Face down on the stairs, Bodo Bodo noticed Coach Roger yelling to get up. He barely heard the words over his heavy breathing and throbbing headache. 


Closing his eyes, Bodo Bodo remembered his dad.


Greatness.


Pride. 


Bodo Bodo tiredly stood up, finishing his ascent. 


Once he reached the bottom, Bodo Bodo lurched forward in agony. 


“That’s all. Good job.” 


Coach Roger’s training schedule tested his resolve, but Bodo Bodo always knew his biggest problem would be learning basketball. 


Most students began practicing advanced techniques, while Bodo Bodo started with the basics. He often felt overwhelmed by Coach Roger’s high standards. 


“There were a lot of expectations for me to catch up fast and reach that level that everyone else was on with a limited amount of time.” 


Those expectations might have been tied to some extent to another growth spurt which brought him to 6'6" by this point.


The process, however, would not be easy. During a layup drill, Bodo Bodo went up to the hoop and incorrectly leaped off the same leg as his shooting hand.


He kept making mistakes in other drills. He took the wrong step, got boxed out, missed an open shot and so on. 


Every time he got something right, something else went wrong.  


Thoughts of quitting creeped back into Bodo Bodo’s head. 


He could go home, be with his family and play soccer. Or focus on school. Something easier. 


Dad never quit.

 

Fueled by the need to be great, Bodo Bodo put all his effort into every practice. He attentively listened to his coaches to fix mistakes. 


He noticed how much Coach Roger helped him and other students, feeling impressed by his coach’s dedication. Bodo Bodo soon saw massive improvement, polishing his jump shot and perfecting his footwork.


Though he still lagged behind others. 


Coach Roger struggled to find playing time for his new student.  A small local tournament seemed like a possible first entry off the bench.


Could Coach Roger risk it?


He not only gave Bodo Bodo playing time, but also desperately needed confidence.

Gradual improvement came with each game. 


He began grabbing rebounds. Then came denying shots. He even made offensive progress.

 

In one game, Bodo Bodo’s teammate passed him the ball in the post. 


Facing away from the basket, he backed down his defender and went up for the dunk.

 

Bodo Bodo felt steel. 


He grabbed the rim and put down a behind-the-back slam. 


His teammates erupted, falling over each other in elation. 


Coaches looked on in shock and amazement. 


Bodo Bodo ran down the court, smiling.  


Even though he rapidly gained skill (and height) Bodo Bodo maintained his humble and resilient mindset. He continued receiving more playing time, consistently improving against tougher competition. Bodo Bodo felt basketball success becoming a stronger reality. He hoped an opportunity would come. 


After practice, Coach Roger pulled Bodo Bodo aside with unbelievable news. A Los Angeles coach scouted Bodo Bodo and offered him a scholarship to Southern California Academy (SCA). 


All the sacrifices, mistakes and subsequent growth paid off. Bodo Bodo accepted the scholarship, knowing it gave him the best opportunity to obtain his goal. 


With his bags packed and self-belief well enhanced, Bodo Bodo, at 6'9", arrived in California. 


DREAM CHASING 


Bodo Bodo quickly made friends in his new home, moving into a house with his SCA teammates.


Bodo Bodo soon began adjusting to American basketball. His hustle, size and defense helped challenge the starters at SCA during practices. 


Confident in his performance, he looked forward to their first game. He could see the path to greatness ahead. 


As game day approached, Bodo Bodo noticed how differently his coaches talked to him in practice. They took more time explaining his mistakes yet spoke briefly to his teammates. 

These interactions showed Bodo Bodo that his inexperience threw off the coaches’ game plan.

 

Still, he kept faith. 


Bodo Bodo never saw the court in SCA’s season opener. 


Although he subbed into future games, he rarely played for even five minutes. Bodo Bodo became a temporary substitute as starters caught their breath. 


His disappointment translated to poor practice, missing shots and forgetting assignments. Despite his grievances, Bodo Bodo tried to remain positive. 


The season continued and Bodo Bodo saw no increase in minutes. 


He could only keep optimistic for so long. 


Thoughts of quitting resurfaced. 


Again. 


But this time was different. 


“I questioned whether I should be playing basketball at all.” 


He thought of his parents. Their efforts, his efforts, felt in vain. 


Although Bodo Bodo wanted to complain about his unfair circumstances, he hesitated. 


“When your parents sacrifice so much for you to go to another country and receive new opportunities, there is no room for complaining or telling them your worries.”  


Bodo Bodo’s father constantly sent him advice and encouragement. He reminded his son to stay strong, work hard and be kind to others. 


Bodo Bodo could not waste his father’s sacrifices. 


He needed to be great. He needed to make Dad proud. 


With his father’s affirmations, Bodo Bodo turned his frustration into fuel. He played his hardest in the few minutes he saw, hoping to get an opportunity. 


Bodo Bodo’s efforts did not go unnoticed. Coach Raymond Young offered a spot in the AAU circuit on Team Lillard Basketball. 


“[Being] 6’10” to 6’11”, he had such high athleticism, skill and footwork,” said Young. “He also had a passion for playing the game.”


Bodo Bodo saw his new direction: He would remain at SCA, then join Team Lillard in the offseason, be great in AAU, get scouted and make the NBA. 


His path to being great reemerged. 


But the path changed. Again. 


Before practice at SCA, Bodo Bodo heard his teammate on the phone. He ecstatically raved about getting his first “offer.” 


Though the moment confused Bodo Bodo, he felt happy for his teammate and joined in congratulating him. 


Bodo Bodo then asked his teammate about the “offer.”


His teammate explained that he received a college scholarship offer, giving him a chance to play against great basketball players. 


Juslin had never heard of college basketball until that day. And he would never forget about it. 


COLLEGE QUEST 


Bodo Bodo began researching college basketball and scholarships, learning how they could help him become great. 


Yet he wanted college offers for another reason. Anytime Bodo Bodo joked around his teammates, they teased him about having no offers. 


They simply snapped at him, “Why are you talking? You got no offers.”


Just like with soccer in his youth, Bodo Bodo ignored the teasing. He focused on garnering college coaches’ interest. 


A local basketball coach, Troy Williams, allowed Bodo Bodo to practice in his gym for free. 


Countless hours of training exhausted Bodo Bodo. While his body begged for rest, three words rang in Bodo Bodo’s head. 


“Where’s your offers?” 


Starting his AAU season, he played inconsistent minutes. 


Bodo Bodo’s father reminded him to never give up and always do his best, giving him more motivation.


The more he practiced with Team Lillard, the more Coach Young felt confident to play Bodo Bodo. 


And Bodo Bodo showed the extent of his potential. He soared for rebounds, threw down thunderous dunks and swatted opposing shots. 


Then universities across the country . . . did not call.


Bodo Bodo heard nothing from any schools.

 

After the games, many of his teammates spoke with college coaches. 


Bodo Bodo sat and watched.


He remained optimistic.

 

Nothing. Again. 


A heartbreaking tournament loss sent him home. Sad and disappointed, he noticed his phone buzzing. 


Unknown caller. Why even answer?  What the heck. 


A man introduced himself as East Carolina University’s coach. 


What? 


Bodo Bodo’s heart began excitedly racing. 


The coach told Bodo Bodo that he loved his game and wanted to officially offer him a scholarship. 


One step closer to being great. 


He felt so excited that he called his parents, explained college basketball to them and told them he got his first offer. 


The ECU scholarship kickstarted Bodo Bodo’s college recruitment journey. 


He received offers from Montana, New Mexico State and East Tennessee State. Arizona State, Memphis and LSU also expressed interest.  


Big-school coaches told Bodo Bodo he would likely not play. So, he shifted his attention to smaller programs. 


And he managed to find a small school with a big name. Well, a tall name: High Point University.

 

HIGH POINT, HIGH REWARD


Bodo Bodo soon reached campus, where he met recently hired head coach Alan Huss. The two entered the Qubein Center, home of High Point basketball. He looked on in awe at the NBA-style arena, from the shining wooden court to the massive scoreboard.

 

Following their tour, Coach Huss offered Bodo Bodo a scholarship.


Fully convinced by Huss' persuasions, Bodo Bodo committed that same day.


Yet his excitement soon turned to frustration. 


Although he had improved his English since his days at SCA, Bodo Bodo struggled to understand basketball slang and the team’s plays. 


Kezza Giffa, Bodo Bodo’s teammate, recalled such a moment in practice that led to some laughs. 


When Coach Huss asked Bodo Bodo if he understood his assignment, he answered with an emphatic, “Yes.” Bodo Bodo immediately proceeded to make a mistake. Coach Huss then re-asked if he understood. Bodo Bodo changed his answer to a very meek “no.”


Thankfully, Giffa offered to help Bodo Bodo.


“We share the same values; that's why I clicked so well with him,” said Giffa. “[He's] a great, talented player, but he knows that he still has some work to do.”

 

Giffa translated plays and assignments in French for Bodo Bodo. As time passed, Bodo Bodo grew closer with his teammates and quickly built unbreakable bonds. 


“My teammates are like family. They support me both on and off the court, always pushing me to be better. In return, I try to support and encourage them too.”

 

With newfound confidence, Bodo Bodo showcased his skill and potential in a preseason scrimmage against Davidson College. 


“I would say Juslin held his own in that scrimmage,” said Huss. “That probably showed us that he was going to be a bigger part than I think any of us anticipated initially.” 


Bodo Bodo played significantly in subsequent practices, achieving early success when Coach Huss named him the starting center. 


Bodo Bodo finally had his opportunity to be great. 


Bodo Bodo’s start to college basketball had flashes of success. Over his first eleven games, he averaged nearly two blocks.


But he often found himself in foul trouble, committing over three per game in his first five road contests. 


“I think there was some nervous energy there,” said Huss. “He committed some early and silly fouls.” 


Bodo Bodo would face his toughest test against the Georgia Bulldogs. Going up against an SEC team was no easy feat, especially for a freshman. 


Coach Huss, however, trusted his young center. 


Running onto the court for warm-ups, Bodo Bodo shook with nervousness having been tasked with guarding Georgia’s 7-foot, 280-pound center Russel Tchewa. 


Nevertheless, Bodo Bodo kept his tension in check, focusing on one play at a time. 


“I don’t think I did anything different to make me calm down. I just tried to focus on the game and make that my top priority.” 


Bodo Bodo played the best game of his life.

 

Despite losing 66-58, Bodo Bodo finished the game with 15 rebounds and four blocks, while only committing one foul. 


He had found desperately needed confidence. 


From then on, he began playing more “diligently”, according to Coach Huss. This helped him cut down on fouling and allowed his team to run their offense.

 

The Panthers ended the regular season 24-7, winning their first-ever Big South Conference regular season title. A team projected to finish at the bottom of the conference now saw a once unimaginable path to March Madness.


Bodo Bodo anticipated the prospect of playing high-level competition in the NCAA Tournament. 


Winning the conference tournament and making March Madness would expose Bodo Bodo to NBA scouts. If he played well enough, he could impress them, finally make the NBA and become great. 


And make Dad proud. 


PANTHER PRIDE 


The Panthers started their tournament with a 77-63 win over Radford. Bodo Bodo dominated with 14 points and 19 rebounds. 


They faced Longwood in the semifinals, who beat High Point to end the regular season. 

But this game would be different. 


High Point came out firing, leading by seven going into the second half. 


Although the Panthers increased their lead to 15, Longwood kept fighting. 


Having struggled with fouls all game, Bodo Bodo watched helplessly from the bench as the Lancers mounted a comeback. 


With under 90 seconds to go, Longwood took the lead on a three-pointer. The pressure weighed on High Point. 


After a missed shot, Bodo Bodo grabbed the offensive rebound and put up the follow.

 

The ball went down—tied game. 


Longwood missed a prayer shot and the game headed to overtime.

 

Five minutes to decide everything. Both teams battled, neither side giving an inch. 


With under a minute to go and High Point up by two, Longwood center Szymon Zapala caught the ball inside. Bodo Bodo went for the block.

 

He instead got a whistle.


The referee called Bodo Bodo’s fifth foul of the game. 


Bodo Bodo walked back to the bench distraught as Zapala converted one of two free throws.


Longwood then stole the ball and took the lead. 


The Longwood bench and fans erupted in joy—30 seconds from victory. 


Bodo Bodo sat stunned, 30 seconds from defeat. 


He felt the March Madness dream fading. 


Yet hope remained. 


Bodo Bodo watched as a teammate's last second three-pointer spun through the air. 


The ball scraped the rim.

 

And popped out. 


The buzzer sounded; Longwood won. 


High Point’s dream season ended. 


Bodo Bodo silently stared at the Longwood team celebrating their victory. 


Walking into the locker room, Bodo Bodo heard soft whimpers of grief. A wave of sadness hit him. 

He could not hold back tears anymore.

 

Everything they accomplished; A record-setting season, a chance to make their first-ever NCAA tournament. 


And they failed. 


Crying in the locker room, a fire lit inside Bodo Bodo. He would work harder so he would never see his brothers in pain again. 


And to do that, he needed to be great. 


DEFINING GREATNESS


Bodo Bodo finished his first year winning multiple awards, including Conference Defensive Player of the Year, Conference Freshman of the Year, and National All-Freshman Team. 


Those accolades would make anyone feel great. Not Bodo Bodo. 


“If I could trade my awards to play in the NCAA tournament, I would.”  Bodo Bodo desired the team achievement of making March Madness. 


He aimed to improve his three-point shot, free throws and rebounding in the offseason.  


He tried to train tirelessly.


He just could not.


He felt spent.


Then a voice in his head asked: Do you want to be great?


Yes.


He needed to be great. And the training continued. Tirelessly.


Then Bodo Bodo began to wonder: What does greatness really mean? The NBA? The Hall of Fame? The best of all time?


Bodo Bodo took this question, along with the pain from the Longwood loss, with him as he sat on a flight home to Yaoundé. 


He realized that Dad never made the Hall of Fame. Dad never played in the NBA. Yet no dispute could exist as to Dad’s greatness. Why?


Then it hit Bodo Bodo.


All of his father’s success and greatness involved helping others. 


So, Bodo Bodo became determined to not only become great via basketball, but he would do so with the main goal of helping others.


Just like Dad. 


Upon returning home, he established the Juslin Bodo Bodo Foundation to provide opportunities for aspiring Cameroonian basketball players. 


HOMETOWN HERO


Bodo Bodo reunited with Coach Roger Dassi. They drove to Bodo Bodo’s family’s home, a complete surprise to them. 


Bodo Bodo could not contain his excitement. His legs felt weak as he knocked on the door. 

He stood still, filled with anticipation. The door opened; his mother, Barbare, standing beyond the doorway.


Tears.


Then hugs and laughter flooded the room.


Bodo Bodo’s father stood shocked, seeing his beloved son return home.  


“I was happy I got to finally be home and see all those who matter to me the most.”


Bodo Bodo returned to Coach Roger’s Academy and met the next generation of Cameroonian basketball, where he could begin helping the community. 


He knew the difficulty of pursuing basketball in his home country. Playing on a court or attending an academy cost more than almost any could afford. 


“I know everyone back home wants to have that opportunity.” 


Although he aimed to build a basketball school, Bodo Bodo started small. 


He and Coach Roger traveled to Garoua, an underdeveloped city in northern Cameroon.


They brought boxes of basketball sneakers, donated by High Point teammates and students, to hand out at their event. 


On their way, Bodo Bodo dreamt of his new school, bustling with students dribbling basketballs. 


Once they arrived, the sound of children laughing as they played snapped the 7-foot man back to reality.


The noise grew louder. 


Footsteps neared.


Extremely excited, he turned around. 


Someone Bodo Bodo did not know stood inches away.


This time, instead of a man convincing him to try basketball, he encountered a little boy who might be convinced to start his own basketball career. 


The boy then grabbed his arm.


“What would my dad do?” he thought. Again.


Bodo Bodo handed the boy a box of sneakers. 


In return he received a big smile. 


Greatness achieved.


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(Cover photo was provided by the High Point Athletic Department.)


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