MINNEAPOLIS -- One was on the way out. One was on the way in.
Before crisis intimately intertwined the lives of Fred Hoiberg and Ronny Turiaf, the pair had little in common, save for the game they played.
Turiaf grew up on a scenic island under French jurisdiction, his childhood feet accustomed to the soothing sensation of walking along a Carribean beach. If Hoiberg played in any sand growing up, it was at an Ames, Iowa playground; row upon row of corn and soybeans were the closest thing to an ocean he could view from his boyhood home.
Hoiberg moved five blocks to pursue his college basketball aspirations. Turiaf immigrated 745,645 miles to chase his. A clean-cut, stoic shooting guard, Hoiberg earned the nickname "The Mayor" for his quiet, almost diplomatic dissection of the old Big Eight. Turiaf, well, does a corn-row-and-beard-sporting, sideline-jigging, gregarious bear of a big man even need a substitute moniker?
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