One of a kind Foyle was valuable presence beyond the court

Just like all the other players who have announced their retirement with a poem a few days after submitting their Master's thesis, Adonal Foyle was one of a kind, a gentleman giant who spent 13 seasons in the exclusive NBA world but always lived among the rest of us. A 6-foot-10 center who didn't win any individual awards, not so much as second-team All-Rookie after being picked in the lottery, but made an immeasurable impact.

The statistics were obviously underwhelming -- 4.1 points and 4.7 boards, and 10 appearances the last two seasons in Orlando and a rolling stop in Memphis because of injury and being the way-backup to Dwight Howard and Marcin Gortat. But the Magic kept wanting him back, and will keep wanting him back, and there is a statement even in the invisible walk to the finish line: they found his presence valuable even without a contribution on the court.

The one, the only Adonal Foyle was all about valuable presence beyond the court. That's of little concern to fans who wanted tangible contribution that led to victories, an understandable request in Golden State with the buildup as the No. 8 pick in '97 and the six-year, $42 million contract that came in '04, and a reasonable expectation in later years as Orlando reached for a title. It was fair to want more than 5.9 points and seven rebounds as single-season career highs. Among front-office officials in both places, though, and among countless cities in this and other countries, he will be remembered as one of the all-time great people.

That's not such a bad legacy. A guy who made a difference.

Foyle founded Democracy Matters in 2'01 to encourage grass-roots involvement in campaign-finance reform, an organization that has grown to approximately 70 chapters on college and high school campuses in 23 states. The Kerosene Lamp Foundation -- named after the light he used to study at night while growing up on an island with no electricity, Canouan -- came in '06 with the goal of empowering the youth of his native eastern Caribbean and the United States "to take control of their future." He carried books on NBA schedule hops to finish an undergraduate degree from Colgate in history. Still maintaining a part-time residence in the Bay Area, he is close to finishing a Master's degree in sports psychology from JFK University in Orinda, Calif., having submitted his thesis last week and needing only a field internship as the final requirement.

"He looked at basketball for what it was," Magic general manager Otis Smith said in the best perspective of Foyle's meaningful 13 seasons. "An opportunity for him to do greater things. His chance to impact other people."

Foyle grew up on tiny Canouan (population: 1,000) and did not play organized basketball until 16, but he turned into the player who shared the Democracy Matters program with President Bill Clinton and Rep. John L. Lewis, a civil rights hero, at a national student conference in Washington in '05.

"My mom said, 'Take everything in. Reach as far as you can. Keep reaching,' " said Foyle, who will likely take a front-office job with the Magic, probably in player development, with the goal of one day becoming an NBA general manager. "I feel like I've done that. I feel like I've honored her and I've honored myself. And that's an incredible feeling."

The poem, a farewell to his playing career, was released through the Magic. He called it Love Song to a Game.

How should I tell thee goodbye?

What can you say about a love affair to rival that of Romeo & Juliet? This is not just some melancholy ode to a hackneyed love of mortals.

I found our love deep in the entrails of the Caribbean Sea. Love that swept me to a land where our embrace became mythical.

You showed me a world that few have dreamt of.

Colgate's golden steeple, a sojourn where ancient teachings flooded my mind. There in the Chenango Valley where 13 sang my soul to flight, basketball laid siege to my soul.

I do not cry for the passing of our love for it stands radiant while my brittle bones crumble through swift time.

I have known you by so many faces; I will spend my end of days recalling.

You have infected so many with the allure of riches and black gold. But I am not angry with you my love. For to a boy who was lost in the bosom of nothing you gave hope and home.

Like the flickering of a light we come and go without much fuss. So I leave you to fend off seekers, hoping they too will cherish your unyielding countenance.

As for me, I will forever live in the glare of your loving embrace. From time to time I hope you will look in on this pitiful fool.

I will miss brothers of a quilt struggling with burning lights. If I offer advice, pierce beyond the glaring lights and see the faces behind the wall. Don't be fooled by the magicians' nibble fingers. For this is a life with mirrors and screens. Its only truth lies in the understanding it will all end.

The sound I will take home is the symphony of thousands of screaming friends.

Warriors, Magic and yes, Memphis too, I sing you praise, hope, blessings, Flowing from a boy's songs of thanks to you and you and you, to all I knew.

Please stay my "immortal love."

You know. Pretty typical stuff from a player.

"The journey can be a very strange one and can propel you in different directions," Foyle said. "I'm very proud I stayed true to myself."

In bright lights as much as the kerosene lamp.

Scott Howard-Cooper has covered the NBA since 1988. You can e-mail him here and follow him on twitter.

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