Emerson Whitley's European Adventure

Whitley SY '98, is a big fish in the small pond of Luxembourgish semipro basketball.

By Eli Kintisch

Photo of Emerson Whitley, SY '98, courtesy of Sports Publicity Office. Map of Luxembourg courtesy luxembourg.lu.

When the NBA draft appeared on TV last June, Emerson Whitley, SY '98, didn't sit in his boxer shorts and cry into his Stroh's, mourning a lost dream. While his peers in the ACC and Big Ten were signing seven figure deals and getting their feet measured for shoe contracts, last year's undrafted Yale basketball star was content--he had a job already lined up. Whitley was going much further than the Big Show; he was set to play ball in the Federation Luxembourgeoise de BasketBall (FLBB), the semipro league of Luxembourg.

"Essentially, it's a free trip to Europe," Whitley said in July, practically busting out of his warmups in anticipation. "I don't know what to expect, but I'm really excited."

Four months later, as the star of a team called the Mess based in the town of Mondercange, Whitley is adapting to the wacky world of the FLBB's second-tier division. The league is comprised of teams affiliated with various Luxembourgish sports clubs. They practice a few nights a week and compete on weekends before crowds of less than 500. Most players on the team are unpaid, competing solely for the love of the game. But the league does stipulate that each club is allowed one paid player--every team gets its American ringer.

Last year's Yale captain is relishing the experience. "It's cool," a chipper Whitley reported, calling from the small town of Reckange where he now lives. "But not nearly as intense as I expected."

Reaping a basketball bonanza

We're living in an era of unprecedented international sports recognition, a time Scottie Pippen is better known than Bill Clinton, LAW '73, in China. Sports fans around the world, however, are not just watching the NBA finals on eight-inch TVs and buying Penny Hardaway three-ring binders. They're playing basketball, forming rec leagues, sports clubs, and school teams. And U.S. players who don't make the NBA grade are reaping the benefits, selling themselves as athletic mercenaries to inject some American ingenuity into the European game--and maybe sell a couple more tickets in the process.

Whether they were Ancient Eight superstars or ACC bench-warmers, over 1,500 Americans are living abroad and scoring on foreigners in overseas leagues. As Yale men's coach Dick Kuchen explained, the Ivy League has always kept strong ties with teams all over Europe, some of which are more professional than the FLBB. "Over the years you make connections," Kuchen, who toured Europe on the U.S. national team in 1966, said. "Basketball has become a worldwide game, and there's a demand. Coupled with a Yale degree, it's a good situation."

According to Kuchen, Yale has a strong tradition of sending players abroad after graduation. Recent alums who have played overseas include Casey Cammann, DC '92, who played two years in Luxembourg; Daniel Okonkwo, BR '97, who starred in England; and Jim Kawahito, BR '96, who is currently playing in Japan.

Recruiting: nothin' but net

The Mess, named for a river in Luxembourg, relies on Vern Musquar, the team's 30-year-old point guard, to find American players. "A few years ago I just made a lot of calls," he said. "Now, with e-mail, I just send out messages to all the coaches--and with the Internet we can keep track of players."

A visit to eurobasket.com, a website for team agents, proves how easy the task can be. "Looking for a new good player for your team?" shouts a banner on the top of the page. "Click here!"

According to Musquar, sifting through March Madness-bolstered egos from 2,000 miles away is a risky proposition. Many players become stir crazy once they get to Luxembourg, he said. "We went through three American players last year, all Michael Jordan types in the way they played," he lamented. "One of them crashed the car. Another, well, he didn't do drugs, but there was a lot of crap there. Another, lied to us and didn't have a drivers license." These are the risks when a team in the middle of the Grand Duchy recruits a major-conference hotshot to light up the scoreboard. Fed up with recruiting trash-talking knuckleheads, the Mess turned to the clean-cut straight-shooters of the Ivy League.

Cue The Star-Spangled Banner. Musquar, who began poking around the Yale basketball website, charting Whitley's progress, said, "We wanted a very smart guy who could play with us, help the team, be a leader." By all accounts, it's been a fine match. "Emer-son's been great. Last night we won by 40," Musquar said. "I'm sure he scored a ton of those."

"It's a certain type of player that makes it in Europe, one who can play away from the basket--a multifaceted player," Kuchen said. "They look for a guy with size, too."

If Whitley's first nine games are any indication, a willingness to school the Luxbourgish serfs is essential as well. "I pretty much dominate," Whitley admitted. "I play a little of everything--bring the ball up, shoot from the outside, play the biggest man on defense." While the level of play is far below other professional leagues in Europe (according to Cammann,"the Yale team would crush over there"), Whitley has adjusted well to the challenges.

While listed at 199 centimeters, the gangly Whitley's official position is scoring forward. Yet Mess coach Jones Allen is playing him more like a swingman, taking advantage of Whitley's shooting accuracy and ball handling. By shooting off picks from 15 feet out, Whitley is making a virtual Mess of the opposition and pouring in 30 points a game. It's a welcome chance for Whitley to play with more flexibility after four years in the post at Yale.

Yet the flexibility of the Luxembourg league brings occasional confusion. Yes, the ball is still orange in Europe, but a Bulldog playing in the FLBB never knows what to expect on the court. "Once, in a game, I was in a situation where I didn't know what was happening," Camann recalled. "They were speaking Luxembourgish."

Cashing in or tuning out

Like other Ivy players who have ventured across the Atlantic with their kicks and their wristbands, Whitley was drawn to Europe by the business opportunities that abound for a smart, Ivy-educated guy who can tie a full Windsor.

Similar to Switzerland, Luxembourg boasts a thriving banking industry, buoyed by a tax shelter and stringent privacy regulations. "I mean, for a country with 600 people, they have more than 200 banks," he said. Whitley holds a job at Lombard International Assurances, a British insurance firm in Luxembourg City, 20 minutes from Reckange. In a country where most people speak more than three languages, Whitley can get by speaking only English.

He's making upwards of $20,000 from the Mess--and considerably more from his day job. When Whitley adds in a team house and car, the year is turning out to be fairly profitable. "Well, it's a chance to pay off that Yale education," he laughed.

Regrettably, not all the slam-dunking refugees in Luxembourg possess Whitley's Yale-taught business drive. "Emerson's one of the few Americans who have a job," Musquar said. And the rest of the Nike Air Yanks? Whitley chuckled. "A lot of guys sit around playing Nintendo all day--for them, I guess it's a year-long vacation or something."

Cleaning up the Mess

Unfortunately, profit in the international marketplace has not been accompanied by team success for Whitley, whose team was 2-7 going into this weekend. "We're pretty young; a couple of guys are still in high school," he said. In addition, as the requisite 30-something on the team, Musquar is out with an injury--his knees, of course.

Without veterans on the floor, Musquar said, the team lacks the experience "to know how to win." In the FLBB, he explained, the American gladiators on each team tend to cancel each other out, so the onus falls on the natives. But when your Luxembourgish neophytes are missing layups down the stretch, even the Emerson Whitleys of the world can't save the Mess. "We've got a long ways to go," the star acknowledged.

But all in all, Whitley is one pleased expat shooting forward. In his day job, he's helping the richest men of the world quietly stow their fortunes away. Under his leadership, the Mess is trying valiantly to avoid becoming the Bad News Bears of a somewhat Bad News Bears league. And after work he's doing what finance jocks all over the world are doing--shooting hoops--and getting paid for it. His team hooked him up with a 1983 Seat Milaga--he calls it his supercharger--and while he can barely fit in the driver's seat, the vehicles and steering wheels are all on the proper side of the street. And best of all, when the Luxembourgish townswomen talk to him in the taverns, he can tell them he's an American basketball star. What a country.

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