He’s more than just the basketball rah-rah guy

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David Bagga’s hoop dream is getting off the bench and getting a paycheck.

By BRYAN ROY
The Orange County Register

[The back story: This appeared as a "Morning Read" feature story on A1 of The Register]

David Bagga scanned the gym and saw something familiar:

Fear.

As shoes squeaked and balls bounced and grown men grunted and cursed and sweated, Bagga knew the question in the gut of every one of the 200 players trying out for a precious handful of the low-pay, high-potential spots in pro basketball’s minor league, the Development League.

The question was simple: “Am I good enough?”

Bagga has been asking so long it’s almost not worth asking anymore.

At Mater Dei, the high school basketball power in Santa Ana, Bagga was the team’s rah-rah guy.

Coaches and fans and sportswriters love rah-rah guys. Athletes – those with ambition, anyway – sometimes don’t. For Bagga, being the rah-rah guy meant he practiced and learned plays and did everything he was supposed to do. But, come game time, he spent a lot of time on the bench, jumping up and clapping and slapping butts when other kids scored.

Bagga, a shooting guard, averaged one point a game his senior year.

Somehow, it was enough.

Bagga next did something nobody figured he would – or could – do. He made the basketball team at the University of Arizona. He was a walk-on, a non-scholarship guy. And, naturally, he was that team’s rah-rah guy, too.

So, if nothing else, Bagga knows basketball. Last month, as he tried out for the D-League at a gym in Hawthorne against men with more life experience than he did, Bagga could see and hear and almost smell the stakes. If the coaches and scouts in this gym didn’t feel like they got full effort, his last and only option is to settle as a rec league player and search for a real job.

That’s fear.

And, weirdly, Bagga wasn’t feeling it.

•••

Almost all walk-ons hang up their shoes after playing for a prestigious college basketball program.

“I’m not ready to do that,” Bagga says.

Bagga has tasted something few athletes – even decent ones – get. At Arizona, Bagga was part of a big-time, Division 1 team, a minor stud on campus and a major inspirational story. Throughout his college career, when Arizona was drilling somebody at home, the kid from Foothill Ranch got to hear an entire arena scream his name:

“Da-vid Bag-ga! Da-vid Bag-ga!”

It was tongue-in-cheek, something the fans chanted during blowouts. But it represented a real desire to get him some playing time. The fans admired his energy and his attitude and the way he used his towel as a lasso after key dunks and surges in momentum.

“He’s just one of those great guys that you just love to have on the team,” said ex-Arizona wing Chase Budinger, who was drafted in the second round of the 2009 NBA Draft. “He never complained.”

But all that love didn’t translate into much during games. Bagga’s career at Arizona amounted to 19 points scored over 40 minutes spread out over nearly four seasons.

His highlight (just one) came March 7 of this year, Senior Night, the last home game of the season.

“When we first got into the arena, I almost started crying.… I didn’t know if I could warm up.”

But, as always, Bagga did warm up. And, as always, his body cooled off during the game.

Then, with 23 seconds remaining, and the Wildcats beating the Stanford Cardinal by 11 points, Bagga got the signal to enter the game. He sprang up from the bench and took off his warm-up shirt and…

Chills.

In the stands, 14,545 Arizona Wildcat fans rose to their feet, giving Bagga a standing ovation. It was no joke. It was respect.

Then, Bagga gave something back.

With about 12 seconds left in the game, a lazy pass inbound was intercepted by Arizona guard Nic Wise, who relayed the ball to a wide-open Bagga, who spotted up for an NBA 3-pointer, and…

Swish.

Bagga’s teammates became rah-rah guys – they mobbed him as the buzzer sounded. The arena roared; the TV camera shook.

The shot made SportsCenter’s Top 10 plays.

He saluted the students and fans. In the post-game Senior Night ceremony, he kissed the half-court logo which read “Lute & Bobbi Olson Court” – the retired Arizona Hall-of-fame coach that first gave Bagga a chance.

“It was something that I’ll remember for the rest of my life. It was one of the biggest things to ever happen to me.”

His mother, Liz Bagga, wore sunglasses to hide her tears.

•••

Something about this rah-rah guy is different. Years of practicing at Arizona, a couple thousand hours practicing against recent NBA draftees such as Jerryd Bayless, Jordan Hill and Budinger, have transformed Bagga.

He’s 6-foot-4 and 180 pounds – a little undersized for the pros. When he wasn’t cheering his teammates and hamming it up for the home crowd, Bagga was sweating and learning and developing something that ambitious athletes long for: Talent.

During the three-day tryout in Hawthorne last month, Bagga averaged 10 points a game, including a perfect 6-for-6 on three-pointers. This week, he’s in Las Vegas for a European basketball camp. Next week, he’ll be in New York for the same thing.

These tryouts are prelude to a D-League draft, to be held in November. After that, there’s a possibility for a minor league paycheck or a chance to play in Europe.

Bagga is training hard: two hours of pickup ball in the morning, followed by an hour of weight lifting and two more hours of pickup ball at an Irvine gym.

And there’s his book.

Bagga has been writing his account of his four years at Arizona, naming it “Walk This Way: Memoirs of a Walk-on,” He hopes to get it published by November.

“Because of the economy we’re in right now, (my parents) said ‘Go for it. You have nothing to lose’,” said Bagga, who graduated from Arizona with a 3.0 GPA in a degree that might as well be basketball marketing.

“They said ‘If this is what you want to do, we’re going to support you 100 percent. But don’t chase this until you’re 30 years old.’ I’m only going to give it another six to eight months.”

Maybe by then, he’ll have a new chapter to write.

Contact the writer: 714-796-7824 or broy@ocregister.com

[ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED IN THE ORANGE COUNTY REGISTER, A1]