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Przybyszewski Making the Transition 3/1/2004
Przybyszewski Making the Transition Occasionally, a Polish Pied Piper with a Walkman (minus headphones) will traipse across Vanderbilt’s campus, singing along with the latest rap tune squeaking from the music box. Contrary to the old Middle Ages poem, this Piper will not lead you into the Cumberland River if you prance behind him. He’s used to drawing attention — on the basketball court, on campus, in this nation. He is not one of us; he’s better. He’s Dawid Przybyszewski, Vanderbilt’s junior center/shooting guard and Poland’s friendliest export since the sausage. Junior teammate Jason Holwerda was Przybyszewski’s roommate their first year on campus. “I remember the first day we moved into Branscomb, when they had a little get-together for everybody to meet each other,” Holwerda recalled. “Me and him walked outside to the little courtyard there, and he’s a seven-foot Polish guy. So he just had a crowd around him. He’s like a magnet — people just come around him.” Just as it took time for Przybyszewski to bust into the starting lineup for the Commodores, acclimating to American life has had its little challenges. Before his first season, Przybyszewski jumped in an auto with Holwerda, Sam Howard and Chuck Moore for a Tennessee-Georgia All-Star Game in ? where? “I was just asking people how to get to Chattanooga,” an inquisitive Przybyszewski remembered, “and I was asking people how you say this and how you say that.” Those first few fast-food weeks were a bit confusing, too. Holwerda talked him through the No. 1s and No. 2s until he was blue in the face. “It was the same thing at Arby’s, McDonald’s, wherever we’d go,” Holwerda smiled. “Then we started working with Chili’s, and it’s a whole new ballgame.” To a man, Przybyszewski’s teammates laud his easygoing nature. Musical taste, well, that’s another story — or two. “He knows every rap song,” Matt Freije said, with a slight grimace. “When he first got over here, everything that came out of his mouth was from a rap song.” “He’s like a walking MTV,” seconded Holwerda. “When he first got here, he’d hear a song and that’s all he’d sing for a week.” “I listen to rap a lot, but I don’t really take down notes,” said Julian Terrell. “He might do that.” His utterance of “Vonderbilt Bosketboll” might be reminiscent of Boris from “The Adventures of Rocky and Bullwinkle,” but Przybyszewski works day and night mastering the nuances of the English language. Stunningly, it’s not all Nelly lyrics either. “He’s really smart,” said Scott Hundley, Przybyszewski’s roommate last year. “He’ll sit down for a couple of days and try to work a paper through. He has to go through it in his head in Polish first, then translate it over to English.” Sometimes the words don’t quite cross the river in the correct boats of context: “I see him with a laundry basket, and he’s about to go downstairs and do laundry,” Hundley recalled. “I ask him, ‘D, what are you doing?’ and he said, ‘I’m going to go make laundry.'” Przybyszewski is quite a few three-pointers away from his hometown of Torun, but cultural transmissions flow both ways. Last year for his birthday, his mother visited Nashville and prepared a traditional Polish meal for the entire team. “It was different stuff you’re not used to having,” Hundley noted. ‘They’re sitting there eating it up, loving it, and we’re like, maybe I’ll eat this.” Where would Vanderbilt be without Przybyszewski? He’s a third scoring option, a nightmare to shadow on the perimeter, a shot-blocking threat and a terrific free throw shooter. Maybe the proper question is, where would Przybyszewski be without Vanderbilt? His persona has blossomed exponentially as his grasp of American ways and means tightens. He draws crowds for his magnetism now, not his exoticness. “Whether it’s on the road or here, he used to be kind of quiet and keep to himself,” said Terrell. “Now he’s actually interacting with everybody. That’s making him a better Dawid.” |
