One-armed player discovers right fit at Northwestern St.
NATCHITOCHES, La. — Hansel Enmanuel knew just what to do when his teammate DeMarcus Sharp was marooned in the lane after picking up his dribble, surrounded by defenders. Enmanuel bolted from the corner toward the basket.
Sharp, recognizing help was on the way, delivered a bounce pass to Enmanuel, who collected it in stride and vaulted toward the rim for what everyone on his team — and everyone else in the small arena — expected to be a stanchion-shaking dunk. But as Enmanuel approached the basket with the ball palmed in his right hand, he recalibrated.
Instead of dunking, he laid the ball on the rim. It would not cooperate, rolling off.
A few moments later, Corey Gipson, Enmanuel’s coach at Northwestern State, pulled him aside to deliver an indelicate truth: Enmanuel should have dunked it, but he had shied away from the contact.
“He went up worrying about missing instead of saying, ‘I’m going to put the women and children to bed,’ ” Gipson said later that night, after Northwestern State lost to the University of New Orleans.
What made their exchange so extraordinary, though, was just how ordinary it was — no mollycoddling or mincing of words, just a coach letting a freshman know that he expects more from him. In that moment, Enmanuel, who lost his left arm in a childhood accident, was right where he wanted to be — just another player on a team with NCAA Tournament ambitions.
Of course, Enmanuel is anything but.
Enmanuel, 19, is the only player in Division I men’s college basketball with only one arm, relying instead on his other gifts: a rangy, 6-6 frame; kangaroolike hops; and a basketball IQ passed down from his father, Hansel Salvador, a longtime standout in the Dominican Republic
professional league.
And how many other college players have collected 1.4 million Instagram followers, walked the red carpet at the ESPYs or taken a star turn in a sports drink commercial broadcast during last year’s NBA Finals? (For that matter, how many have a seven-figure endorsement portfolio, which he does, according to his agent, that also includes sportswear, sunglasses and cellphone companies?)
That visibility has been mostly recent, after he moved to the United States from the Dominican Republic less than three years ago speaking little English. He became an internet sensation through dunk videos while he excelled at Life Christian Academy in Kissimmee, Fla.
This is a life Enmanuel did not think possible after, at age 6, a wall he was climbing collapsed on him, pinning his left arm. By the time he was rescued, it was too late to save his arm. It was amputated just below the shoulder.
“When the accident happened, I was thinking, like: ‘What am I going to do now?’ ” he told the Associated Press in December in the only print interview he has done this season. “I was thinking: ‘It’s over for me.’ ”
Small milestones —
such as tying his own shoelaces — gave way to bigger ones, such as maintaining his equilibrium while running. And then learning to do basketball tasks with one hand, such as dribbling, passing, shooting, rebounding and blocking shots. When Enmanuel moved to Florida, where his mother had immigrated years earlier and he also hoped better opportunities awaited, he more than held his own on the court.
“Sometimes (college) coaches second-guess themselves and what they’re looking at,” said Rick Catala, who coached Enmanuel for SOH Elite, a club team based in Pembroke Pines, Fla. “I’ve seen Hansel destroy highmajor kids, but then they’re still questioning him. I told one coach, ‘I don’t know why you keep asking me, Is he a D-I basketball player?’ ”
Several schools thought so. Memphis, which has national championship ambitions and would have offered a bigger stage but perhaps less playing time, extended a scholarship offer. So did Tennessee State and Bethune-Cookman, historically Black universities that would have provided a unique platform. Northwestern State could promise only one thing: it would treat Enmanuel like a basketball player.
“I guarantee you we’re
not recruiting him for a dog and pony show,” Gipson told Enmanuel, his parents, his club coach and his business advisers in a video call last spring. The coach has heard the inevitable tongue-clucking from other coaches that signing Enmanuel was merely a publicity stunt. “We’re recruiting him because we think we can develop him, and we think he has the right ingredients to fit into the program.”
The Demons (21-10), who were 9-23 last season, finished second in the Southland Conference this season, earning a spot in Tuesday’s conference tournament semifinals at Lake Charles, La
After playing only sporadically and missing several weeks with a concussion, Enmanuel has earned more playing time of late. He has started the past three games, his activity defensively and on the boards providing an energetic presence.
Omarion Henry, a freshman forward for New Orleans, popped Enmanuel on the chest with his fist as the teams went through a handshake line after the Privateers’ recent victory.
It was a simple but meaningful gesture, a sign of the respect Henry said he has for Enmanuel, one competitor acknowledging another.