The Time I Made the Team

Because although Senegal taught me many valuable lessons, sometimes it just gave me funny stories with no lessons attached...

Julien loves sports.  Especially soccer and basketball.

He said on a few occasions that he wanted five sons, so he could have his own basketball team.  Or seven, "so there could be replacements, too."

I liked to tease him about that.  "And just what does Angèle think of these plans?  How does she feel about having so many boys?"  He'd usually laugh sheepishly.

Another friend was over visiting with me one day when such a conversation was happening.  She pointed out that there were already three boys in the family, so they were over halfway to Julien's goal.

"There are only two," we corrected her: Germain and Theo.
"Oh, who's the other boy?"
"That's Michel, Angèle's brother.  He's just staying here while he's going to school."
"Oh, well...he could still be part of the team," she offered.
"No, no.  He's not part of the family," Julien shook his head firmly.
"Yes, he is," I insisted.  "He's part of your wife's family, and therefore he's part of your family."
"But he's a 'Diop' and not a 'Faye'," Julien responded.
I laughed.  "Well, suppose he changed his name.  Could he be part of the team then?"
Julien thought a few seconds.  "Sure."
I hid a smirk and looked at him.  "Suppose I changed my name, could I be part of the team?"
"Nah, you wouldn't have to change your name.  You're already a Faye."

In that moment, I felt, in some small way, that I had arrived.  I was a Faye.  I was part of the team.

Although...joke's on him.  I've never played a game of basketball in my life.