ByGeorge F. Lee, Star-Bulletin
Pongi Tevaga, his life nearly ruined by mistakes, is
getting a chance to play basketball again in the Pacific
Basketball League. Above, Tevaga looks
to pass to a teammate.

---

Getting
another shot

The Pacific Basketball League
gives players the chance to live out
their hoop dreams

By Dave Reardon
Special to the Star-Bulletin

Semiprofessional is like being sort of pregnant or kind of Hawaiian, right?

It seems pretty clear; you either get paid for something or you don't.

Well, the players of the semiprofessional Pacific Basketball League aren't cashing huge checks. They aren't cashing any paychecks at all from the PBL.

But they are getting paid. They are reimbursed for their sweat and skill in several ways.

For George Gilmore, it's having an arena where he can hone his talents so he can extend his pro career. People are watching: James Williams, Chris Walz and James Cooks have drawn serious attention from pro teams.

If you're Tony Randolph, this is your PBL salary: the final hurrah on the court, a reliving of past glory when you made college basketball history.

Then there are Pongi Tevaga and Leo Leopoldo. Their basketball lives, not to mention their real lives, were nearly ruined by mistakes. As it is for everyone in the league in one form or another, the PBL is a second chance. Tevaga and Leopoldo are especially thankful for that. And they want others to learn from their mistakes.

"One of our goals is to be a positive force in the community," says league commissioner Glen Martin. "Our players make appearances, talking to kids about how to stay out of trouble."

Tevaga and Leopoldo are happy to share their boy-gets-basketball, boy-loses-basketball, boy-gets-basketball-back stories.

It's part of what they get "paid" for.

The Windward Trades aren't in the PBL playoffs. They finished 0-8 in the six-team league.

The most intriguing player on the Trades comes off the bench. He is 6-feet-5, 220 pounds, and has the longest hair in the league.

The Trades are already losing by 15 when Pongi Tevaga gets into the game.

As soon as he touches the ball, you can tell he's a natural. But on this night, he never gets into the flow. He does make one play that displays his innate feel for the game. Swooping in from the wing, he glides through a mass of bodies and tips a miss into the basket.

"He's going to make a damned good ballplayer," says his coach, Louie Tilton. "But he's got to work hard."

ByGeorge F. Lee, Star-Bulletin
The 6-foot-5, 220-pound
Tevaga battles for a rebound.

---

Tevaga, 20, is learning about hard work, in basketball and in life -- he has a full-time job at Kmart, working the graveyard shift. He's also making up for lost time -- he spent what were supposed to be his junior and senior years at Lahainaluna High in the Koolau Boys Home.

"I didn't play organized basketball for two years," Tevaga says. "Then Mr. Martin introduced me to his boys."

Martin taught science at the boys home when Tevaga was there.

"I told them if they behaved themselves during the week, I'd bring some guys over on Saturday and they could play basketball with them," Martin says.

Tevaga, who was a gang leader on Maui, was the "bull" of the home. He kept the others in line and they got to play ball.

"At one time he was a violent person and controlled others," Martin says. "He could tell people what to do. I used to bring soda. 'Here Pongi, give to those guys.' He flicked his finger, two guys come get the cooler. I said 'No, you, Pongi, you carry it over there.'"

It's hard to believe he's describing the quiet, young working man you met at the gym the other night.

Tevaga relishes the opportunities he gets to steer kids away from the path he took as a youngster.

"I want them to have respect for themselves and other people and to stand for something," he says. "A lot of people have nothing to stand for so they fall for everything. I want to stand for being positive and hard work."

Leo Leopoldo was a 3-point shooter before there were 3-pointers. As a prep star at Farrington, he lit up the scoreboard with his 25-foot bombs and the rest of the gym with his smile.

"Leaping Leo, didn't we have some good times with him? He was so damned good, yet he came to practice first and left last," recalls his Farrington coach, Harry Pacarro.

"He loved to practice. I had to tell him to go home, and then I presume he went to Lanakila to shoot some more."

After averaging nearly 30 points a game and graduating in 1984, Leopoldo went to play at Hawaii Pacific College, but couldn't handle school.

Then the trouble began. First drinking, then smoking marijuana, then cocaine.

"I was just trying to make money off it, because it was easy," Leopoldo says. "But I picked up one envelope from someone, not knowing that someone was an undercover agent.

"That envelope cost me roughly 18 months. It really took a toll on me, turned my life upside down. Doing drugs is the most dangerous thing you can do in your life."

After he served his time, it took Leopoldo a long time to regain his desire to play basketball.

"I just never had the interest. I felt shame, because of being incarcerated," he says. "Then after a couple years, I just decided I've got nothing to lose, why not just go out and play. Now I'm happy."

Today, Leo Leopoldo is 31. He and his girlfriend, Jessica Silva, have two sons. When he's not working as a solar panel installer or playing in the PBL, Leopoldo speaks for D.A.R.E.

"I would see their commercials when I was sitting in jail," he says. "When I got out I volunteered."

"He's always smiling, aloha to everyone," Martin says. "He likes himself better now."

"Bring the teens and the young ones (to the PBL)," Leopoldo says. "Let them see our talent. And let them learn from our examples, the good ones and the bad ones from the past. Everyone has things that went wrong, but hopefully someone will learn from my mistake."