Bosnian, Serbian fight together on Lipscomb's basketball court
By David Boclair
published: October 22, 2009
As a 5-year-old, however, Adnan Hodzic understood immediately that his life never was going to be the same.
It happened the first time his mother gathered him in her arms and ran with him down the streets of Sarajevo as bullets whizzed past on both sides. It was clear each night he lay in his bed and listened to the bombs explode and the ammunition fire, and the point was driven home each time he was reminded to stay in the basement of his family home so as not to risk his very life.
Eventually, his family was left with no choice but to make a drastic change. His mother took him and his sister to the United States while his father stayed behind to fight for Bosnia in its war with neighboring Serbia.
More than a decade later, everything is different for Hodzic, now a junior at Lipscomb University, from the language he speaks to the game he plays. Yet nothing better illustrates how his life has been altered than his relationship with Milos Kleut, a Lipscomb freshman and a teammate on the university's basketball team — and also a native of Serbia.
"We're great friends," Hodzic says. "That doesn't bother us. It happened. We were kids. We did nothing to anybody. That was strictly politics and people in another generation than us. We look at each other like nothing. We look at each other just like I look at anybody else."
Child of war
The conflict between Bosnia and Serbia grew out of the dissolution of Yugoslavia following the fall of Communism throughout Eastern Europe in the late 1980s. Fueled by the machinations of Slobodan Milosevic, the Communist leader in Serbia, the strife included a policy adopted and executed by Bosnian Serbs, which became known as "ethnic cleansing," a more palatable term for genocide.
It was nearly four years before the situation was resolved, with estimates that at least 100,000 people died in the conflict. Friendsofbosnia.org reported that more than 12,000 citizens of Sarajevo lost their lives and those who stayed lost an average of 30 pounds due to a shortage of food and supplies.
Hodzic and his family were among millions who fled the country, which they ultimately did, he estimates, a little past the halfway point of the struggle.
"The economy was obviously bad," Hodzic says. "You couldn't make anything for yourself. You couldn't make a living. So we had to come here."
They ended up in Columbus, Ohio, and soon relocated to Indianapolis. A little more than six months after they arrived in the United States, Hodzic's father followed and rejoined the family.
"It was a pretty tough transition at first, but I got used to it," he says. "It was tough growing up without a father figure even for that length of time. I would see other kids with their dads. That would kind of hurt me.
"Stuff got better when he came."
Hoop dreams
It was in Indianapolis, alongside his father, Mehmed, that Hodzic experienced his next life-changing moment. Once again, he recognized the significance immediately.
Before he was enlisted in the Bosnian army, Mehmed Hodzic was a professional soccer player. Soccer, of course, was the sport of choice for the majority in that part of the world and it was no different for the Hodzic's and their extended family.
For young Adnan, soccer seemed like an obvious pursuit as well as a good option to help integrate himself into his new community.
"When I came over here I tried to play soccer but I was too big, too, too big and clumsy," he says.
Then, father and son, who was in elementary school at the time, went together to see a game between the Indiana Pacers and the Chicago Bulls. The latter team was led by Michael Jordan, whose skill, charisma and appeal extended to all parts of the world.
"My dad was telling me about (Jordan)," Hodzic says. "He inspired me."
Hodzic quickly got a small basket to hang in his bedroom and shot as often as he could with the soft, undersized ball. Before long he was confident enough to go to a nearby park and play.
When he was in seventh grade, he finally tried out for the team at school. He was cut.
"My eighth grade year I decided to try out again for the heck of it, and when I made it, it just became a love," he says. "I had a love for the game and stuff started excelling from there. ...Nobody in my family history, I believe, had ever touched a basketball."
Land of opportunity
These days, according to Lipscomb coach Scott Sanderson, it's hard to find Hodzic without a ball in his hands.
In three years with the Bisons he has progressed from an Atlantic Sun Conference All-Freshman selection to the only center named to the A-Sun preseason all-conference team. His scoring average doubled from his freshman (8.9 points per game) to his sophomore season (17.1).
With him as the focal point of the attack, Lipscomb was named a co-favorite for the conference title in 2009-10 and the top choice to win this season's A-Sun tournament.
Similarly, after being cut in seventh grade, he ultimately developed into an all-state, all-county and all-conference player at North Central High School in Indianapolis. His team won 41 of 50 games in his last two seasons, earned a top 20 national ranking and once finished as the state Class 4A runner-up.
"He tries to digest everything you're telling him," Sanderson says. "Not only does he try to digest everything you're telling him, but then he goes out there and works on it. You could come in here on a Friday night, Saturday morning, it doesn't matter, anytime on the weekend, and he's in here with a ball and a goal working on what we talked about. That's why he's improved so quickly."
He has grown into an imposing presence at 6-foot-9, 255 pounds, and has decided he will attempt to extend his career beyond college.
He also is well on his way toward earning a degree in marketing with a minor in psychology.
"I've met a lot of great people, a lot of influential people," he says. "Of course I miss home. One day I plan on going back, but this is the land of opportunity and I try to take advantage of that."
Lessons from the past
Sanderson admitted that he paused for a moment when he started to recruit Kleut, who spent the last three years as an exchange student in Marietta, Ga. He pressed on, though, and ultimately signed the 6-foot-10, all-state center who was named the top recruit in the entire Atlantic Sun Conference by rivals.com.
Now, the coach never gives it a second thought.
"Those two guys get along better than anybody," Sanderson says. "When I go up to eat in the cafeteria, those two are talking another language I don't comprehend. They're like buds off the floor.
"They're genuinely enjoying each other."
The subject of their shared history has come up, but only briefly and not in the last several months. Instead, their conversations (whatever the language) have focused on topics such as basketball, studies, girls...the same kind of things any other college students discuss.
Kleut acknowledged that it might seem odd to some "because of the war and all those things over there," but shrugged off any potential instability in the foundation of their relationship.
"He's a great guy, good teammate, good friend," Kleut says. "...We are pretty good friends, close friends. It doesn't bother us."
Hodzic went home to Sarajevo this past summer and spent a great deal of time with a cousin who has studied the Bosnia-Serbia war. He reviewed DVDs of documentaries on the conflict. He asked questions.
With just over a month to go before his 21st birthday, he finally has drawn some conclusions about things he could not comprehend as a boy.
"Obviously (I had) a little bit of anger, but I'm not going to hold that against anybody," he says. "Anger, and I definitely was sad. Now, I'm just kind of sad that it happened. I'm not really angry with anybody. It was just sad. A lot of people died. A lot of people died."
For Hodzic, a lot of things changed.
"I wouldn't change it for the world," he says. "I love where I'm at. The coaching staff is great. People are great. My situation is great. I wouldn't change it at all."
With no need to look back, he's free to keep his eyes open for the next life-changing moment.
