Tragedy reminds us what matters
At first the words land like a suckerpunch, leaving an emptiness and a profound sadness for hours on end.
Al Beye dead.
Bright, personable, articulate, fun-loving, gifted, innocent Al Beye, the Pied Piper of Montana State sports for three years, the embodiment of all that is right about college athletics.
Youthful dreams done too soon at 24, extinguished by a car accident near Dillon.
You wonder: Can the news coming out of MSU’s athletic department get any worse?
And then, the clouds part and a ray of light emerges amid the numbing tragedy.
Al Beye.
The embodiment of all that is right about college athletics.
So the timing couldn’t be any worse for MSU.
Or, in an oddly cosmic sort of way, any better.
For amid sordid tales of murder, drugs and academic woes, we are suddenly and painfully reminded of what is good over there, much the way it too often takes a funeral to remind us of the beauty of loved ones.
In the wake of last summer’s murder arrests of two out-of-state former MSU athletes on murder charges, Beye’s life and death remind us of the folly of limiting recruiting to within Montana’s borders.
In the wake of the recent drug charges leveled at one current and two former African-American football players, his legacy reminds us of the indecency of racial stereotyping.
In the wake of the terrorism-induced hysteria over African exchange students disappearing en route to Bozeman, the gift of his presence reminds of the ugliness of painting entire cultures and continents with broad strokes.
Had we lent credence to the ignorance- and fear-based hue and cry now coming from some corners regarding MSU recruiting, we would never have had the privilege of knowing Al Beye, never benefited from his depth and insight, never experienced his generosity, never admired his towering presence on the basketball floor, never been uplifted by his infectious smile, his spirit and the childlike love of life he wore on his lengthy sleeve.
“Genuine,” was how his former coach at MSU, Mick Durham, described him Saturday, using a phrase he limits to a select few.
Alioune Beye came to us three years ago from Dakar, Senegal, our country as much a curiosity to him as his 6-foot-11, 190-pound lodgepole-pine frame was to us.
He never ceased to marvel at our culture, and our culture gravitated to his magnetic personality.
“Everybody loves me around here!” he once told me with wide-eyed wonder. “People introduce themselves to me all the time. I have about a thousand friends here!”
And that was barely a year after he arrived.
His school president at Eastern Oklahoma State College, where he won a leadership award a year after migrating from Dakar, once told him he was too nice. His coaches at MSU worried that in responding to every plea for help or support, he spread himself too thin.
French teacher at Bozeman High needs a guest to energize students? Call Al.
Elementary school needs an engaging personality to keep kids at rapt attention about Africa? Call Al.
Local charity needs a local celebrity’s name lent to it? Call Al.
Al always, always complied.
Conversely, if you were in a hurry to get from Point A to Point B on a blustery sub-zero day, you wanted to avoid Senegal Slim like a tsetse fly.
The Al Beye campus caravan moved like traffic on The 405 in Los Angeles at rush hour. Al’s foot always on the brake for friend and stranger alike.
Once Al shook a hand and learned a name, he never forgot even as thousands converged on his cerebral hard drive.
In homogenous Bozeman, Al Beye gave us more to cheer about than a few victories on the basketball court, a few blocked shots, a few thundering dunks.
He showed us not only what’s right with college athletics, but with the world.
So while his death — just nine months after blocking his last shot and a scant three months before earning his diploma — has left an emptiness that defies description, we can still at least honor his legacy.
Not just with a moment of silence, or by threading his number 55 onto MSU’s basketball uniforms, but by adhering to the spirit in which Alioune Beye came to Bozeman, gave to the community and lived in a valley he cherished.
Sports editor Jeff Welsch is at
[email protected]
