the Ballad of

& Talor BaTTle mighT Be The BesT player in penn sTaTe hisTory. his liTTle BroTher, freshman Taran Buie, could Be even BeTTer. how They Blend Their TalenTs This season mighT deTermine The fuTure of Their family—and The program.

By Ryan Jones ’95 ComphoTos By Bill CRameR ’85/wondeRful maChine

BubbyBoog

S e p t e m b e r / O c t o b e r 2 0 1 0 T H E P E N N S T A T E R 37

brother as Ron-Ron.Battle goes by Bubby (we’ll get to that), but Buie just

calls him T.To an outsider, it is all very complicated, references of

informality tangled up in family memories and insidejokes. For these young men, of course, it all makessense. Their shared history is in those names, and thathistory—their family’s history—explains their bond, andtheir motivation.

Battle returns this fall for a final season with the Nit-tany Lion basketball team. A star senior who mighthave bolted for a long-shot chance at NBA riches,he’s back on campus to close out what might be themost impressive career in the history of the program

(see sidebar, p. 41). Buie,arguably the most highlytouted recruit ever to signwith Penn State, joins him asa freshman. Battle is thestraitlaced kid whose game ismarked by determinationand clutch shooting; Buie,three years younger, is alithe and instinctive athletewho admits to a history ofminor mischief-making offthe court. Battle stresses thathe and his brother are“totally different.”

But they are alike in theirimpetus—both harbor legiti-mate dreams of playingprofessional basketball andthe life-changing income the

game can provide. They areplaying for their family’sfuture, for their mother andseven other siblings, and forthe missed opportunities oftheir fathers. And this sea-

son, in spite of all the reasons it almost didn’t happen,they will play with, and for, each other.

ALOR BATTLE WAS BORN IN THE FALL

of 1988, in Albany, N.Y., the third child ofDenise Murphy and Lloyd Battle. Murphy

worked as a railroad dispatcher in upstate New York,where she had moved from her hometown of Harris-burg, Pa. The marriage didn’t last, and not long afterTalor was born, Murphy began a relationship with DanBuie, a former basketball star at Harrisburg HighSchool. They would stay together 18 years but nevermarry, struggling to maintain a relationship throughDan Buie’s legal troubles (including weapons chargesand allegations of drug dealing) and moving theirgrowing family from Harrisburg to Kansas and finallyback to Albany as Dan Buie tried to resurrect his once-promising basketball career.

The couple had six children together, and Battle grewup with Dan Buie as the closest thing he had to a pater-nal presence—although one who often wasn’t around.Battle responded, almost instinctively, by taking on therole of father figure for himself: helping care for hisyounger siblings when they were ill, or adding anauthoritative male voice when they acted up.

“He’s a different kind of kid,” Murphy says. “Nobodyever put that pressure on him—he just took on thatresponsibility, and he still does. Bubby was always wisebeyond his years.”

Battle’s nickname is borrowed from the formerPittsburgh Steeler quarterback Bubby Brister; hismother coined it and rarely calls him anything else.

From a youngage, Battle was agood and com-petitive athlete,and basketballquickly becamehis sport. In that,at least, his nextyoungest sibling

followed his lead. Taran Buie remembers tagging alongas a middle schooler when Battle would play with theAlbany City Rocks, a competitive traveling team thattoured the national AAU circuit in the spring and sum-mer. “I’d be the little bag boy, whatever,” Buie says. “Ijust wanted to be around.”

Boog is Buie’s newest nickname. It is short for Boogie,which is derived from Ron-Boogie, itself a more colorfulupdate of Ron-Ron, which is the nickname Buie hasgone by for as long as he can remember. His given name

is pronounced tuh-RON, but “no one really calls methat,” Buie says. “I even feel funny saying it.”

Buie sits in a window booth at the Corner Room on ahumid June morning, a half-eaten stack of blueberrypancakes slumped on a plate in front of him. His royalblue New York Mets cap sits on the edge of the table,giving his wiry black hair a chance to breathe. He’s hereto talk about his family, which among other thingsmeans explaining the complex evolution of nicknamesand volunteering to write down the names and agesand, yes, nicknames of each of his eight siblings.

One of those siblings is his 21-year-old half-brother,Talor Battle. It was Battle who came up with Boog—although, in conversation, he tends to refer to his little

T T

“FOOD EVEN TASTES BETTER HERE,”

BUIE SAYS. “I PICKED UP AN APPLE AT

THE NITTANY LION INN, AND I SWEAR IT

WAS THE BEST APPLE I EVER TASTED.”

ARAN BUIE IS EXPLAININGTHE ORIGINS OF BOOG.

FRATERNAL FUN:Teammates this seasonfor the first time in fouryears, Battle (left) andBuie share an offcourtchemistry that shouldhelp them on the court.

S e p t e m b e r / O c t o b e r 2 0 1 0 T H E P E N N S T A T E R 39

up to Battle’s example—if not sur-pass it.

That took some doing. By theend of his sophomore year atAlbany’s Bishop Maginn HighSchool, Talor Battle was consid-ered one of the top 100 playersnationally in the class of 2007,and big-time college coaches hadtaken notice. Then he suffered asevere ankle injury, and many ofthose coaches moved on to otherprospects. Penn State coach EdDeChellis ’82 Edu didn’t waver,keeping the school’s scholarshipoffer on the table. When Battle returned healthy andearned all-state honors as a senior, some of those samebig-time coaches renewed their interest. Battlerebuffed them and rewarded DeChellis’ loyalty byreconfirming his commitment to Penn State.

Buie was a freshman during Battle’s senior season inhigh school, coming off the bench as his big brotherled the team to the state title game. Over the next twoseasons at Bishop Maginn, Buie developed into a starof his own—as a sophomore in 2008, he led the teamto the Class AA New York state championship—andmany of those same big-time coaches came calling. Byhis junior season in high school, Buie was ranked asa top-75 prospect nationally, and Maryland andNotre Dame had emerged as his favorites. Both claimmore impressive basketball reputations than PennState, and Buie admits that the Nittany Lions were“probably No. 3 on my list.”

While Buie was trying to figure out his future, Battlewas becoming a folk hero in Happy Valley. After astrong freshman season—he started all but Penn State’sfirst game and led the team in points and assists—Battleblossomed as a sophomore, earning first-team all-BigTen honors and leading the Lions to a school record 27wins and the 2009 National Invitational Tournamentchampionship. Buie watched his big brother lead theLions on that inspiring run to the NIT final in NewYork City, and he was courtside in Madison SquareGarden when the Nittany Lions cut down the nets. Bythen, Buie had shuffled his mental list.

“I knew before that game—I was just waiting toannounce it,” Buie says of his college choice. “Then I justasked myself, ‘What am I waiting for?’” The brotherswere on the sidewalk in midtown Manhattan, getting

food before their long rides home,when Buie looked at his olderbrother and said, “Man, I’m ready.”His future teammates were waitingon the team bus idling nearby. “Ijust walked up on the bus, shookCoach D’s hand, and said, ‘I’mready to be a Nittany Lion.’ Thewhole bus kinda exploded. Theyhad no idea.”

It might’ve been the brightestnight in Penn State basketball his-tory: A first-ever national postsea-son title—one that mostly negatedthe Nittany Lions’ pain at just miss-

ing out on an NCAA tournament berth—followed by acommitment from the sort of recruit who could helpmake such success the rule rather than the exception.

It felt like something out of a movie, but the next 12months would not follow the script.

HE SUMMER THAT FOLLOWED WAS AN

eventful one for Denise Murphy’s family,and particularly for her basketball-playing

sons. Talor Battle traveled to Serbia for the WorldUniversity Games and led a talented U.S. squad inscoring. He returned to Happy Valley as a preseasonfavorite for Big Ten Player of the Year honors. His localfan base got a boost, too: Not long after Buie commit-ted, he, his mother, and five of his siblings relocatedfive hours south to Boalsburg, a long three-pointerfrom University Park. Buie enrolled at State CollegeHigh School for his senior year. The move was an eye-opener for the family. “In Albany, we were right in thecity, and the last place we stayed was horrendous,”Murphy says. “Our first weekend in Pennsylvania, wewent out and picked berries.”

“Food even tastes better here,” Buie says. “I picked upan apple at the Nittany Lion Inn, and I swear it was thebest apple I ever tasted.”

It might’ve been the fresh fruit or the fresh air, ormaybe just the passage of time, but Murphy and Battleboth say Buie has matured noticeably in the past year.“That attitude he had just isn’t there anymore,” Battlesays. “We had a little heart-to-heart this summer, and itwas the first time I heard him say that he realizes every-thing he was doing was wrong. It was funny to hear him

For both, basketball offered an escape from the harshreality of life in Albany. Money was tight, Murphy waslargely on her own with all those kids, and the clichés ofurban existence—drugs, gangs, and the attendant vio-lence—beckoned. (In 2009, Murphy’s oldest son, TracyBattle, was sentenced to 70 months in prison after hepleaded guilty to charges of cocaine posses-sion with intent to distribute; he wasreleased to a halfway house in July, and heand his brothers remain close.) Taran, three

grades behind Talor, was a good enough athlete to stayon the court with the bigger kids. The experiencesweren’t always fun, but they made Buie tough. “He justdragged me out there to get beat up,” Buie says. “Wealways got into fights with each other—not fistfights,but arguments. He’d call me ‘soft,’ and I’d tell him to

shut up. I was always ready toreally fight.”

All of this was fairly typicalfrom Battle and Buie, whoseopposing personalities theirmother describes in diplo-matic terms. “Talor tries toavoid any kind of confronta-tion,” she says. “Taran is more… energetic. He’s definitely arisk taker.”

Battle is more blunt. “Ron-Ron is a little rough aroundthe edges,” Battle says. “Youcouldn’t tell him nothin’. Istayed out of trouble, and hewas always in it.”

Buie describes himself asan instigator of mostly inno-cent trouble, the kid whowas “always roughhousing,always wanted to be theclass clown, always wantedto do something stupidwhen the teacher turned herhead.” He says most of hischildhood friends eventuallyjoined gangs; with basket-ball providing a buffer, ganglife was a temptation hemanaged to avoid.

In person, Buie is talkativeand engaging, making eyecontact throughout our con-versation; he’s a charmer whoadmits with a laugh that“T was kinda the angel; Iwas the darkness child.” Theconstant comparisons to hisdo-no-wrong older brotherdidn’t help Buie straightenup. It was only on the basket-ball court that he could live

T

TALOR BATTLE HAS

PLAYED SOME OF

HIS BEST GAMES

ON DAYS WHEN

HIS FAMILY, DRIV-

ING DOWN FROM

ALBANY, SHOWED

UP UNANNOUNCED

AT THE BRYCE

JORDAN CENTER.

HOME TEAM: Most of Battle and Buie’s familynow resides in Happy Valley, including theirmom, Denise Murphy (center), and three oftheir sisters: 7-year-old Ashanti, 5-year-oldAlexis, and 27-year-old Tyger.

S e p t e m b e r / O c t o b e r 2 0 1 0 T H E P E N N S T A T E R 41

chance to lead my team andplay with my brother—it wasas simple as that.”

The family had talkedabout it, of course, Buie urg-ing his older brother to leaveif given the chance, and Mur-phy standing behind what-ever decision her son made.Had Battle left early, Buieadmits he might’ve left, too—Maryland or Notre Dame orsome such program would’vefound room for him, andplaying for a struggling PennState program without hisbrother didn’t seem all thatenticing. “I thought aboutrethinking it,” Buie says. “Butthe more I thought about it, itwas like, Penn State is home.I was comfortable here.”

Buie adds he was “ecstatic”when his brother decided tostay in school, but that ecstasywas tempered by the knowl-edge that Battle won’t be anNBA lock next year, either.Battle’s height is the biggestknock on his game, a literalshortcoming that no amountof hard work can alter: “I can’tsit here and hope I grow fourinches,” Battle says. Thescouts’ assessment isn’t with-out hope. Battle was one of 20college players invited thissummer to the LeBron JamesSkills Academy, a showcasecamp for top college and highschool talent (Buie was one ofthe 80 prep players invited in2009). The invite is selective, confirmation of the collegeplayers’ high standing among NBA scouts, dozens ofwhom come to Akron, Ohio to watch. I asked one of themwhat more Battle could do to get on scouts’ radar.

“He’s already on our radar,” the scout replied. “I don’tknow what he could do that he’s not already doing.”

Figuring that out before next year’s draft is Battle’s

primary motivation. He’sconcentrating on improvinghis defense, where he some-times appears laissez-faire;by contrast, defense might beBuie’s strongest suit. Theirshave always been comple-mentary personalities, and soit is with their games. It’s inthe best interests of all PennState hoop fans that theycomplement each other thisseason, when so much is atstake—not least the programitself, which, if not a sinkingship after last season’s show-ing, certainly seems to betaking on water: The NittanyLions last made the NCAAtournament in 2001.

Battle and Buie areunquestionably their team’smost talented players, butBuie says he understandsthat as a freshman, he has yetto earn a minute of playingtime. His mom has no doubtthat he’ll make the effort.“Because Talor’s there, Taranhas to work hard,” Murphysays. “I know the coachesmake them work hard, butin Taran’s eyes, it would bemore of a failure to disap-point Bubby.”

Buie’s deference is suchthat he won’t even admit tobeing able to beat his brotherone-on-one. Well, not quite.“He’ll still win every time weplay,” Buie says, smiling.“Imean, I might get him. But I

ain’t going on the record with that.”This is relayed to Battle, who says there is no “might”

involved. “He can’t beat me one-on-one,” Battle says.“Only way you’re beating me one-on-one is if you’rebigger than me—I mean, like, 6-9.”

Buie has done pretty well in his brother’s shadow.One more year in the shade shouldn’t be a problem.

40 T H E P E N N S T A T E R S e p t e m b e r / O c t o b e r 2 0 1 0

admit it. We used to tell him all the time.”(Buie is still figuring it out: In July, early on the Sun-

day morning of Arts Fest weekend, Buie was cited byState College police for disorderly conduct; athleticdepartment officials portrayed the incident as littlemore than overzealous horseplay with a friend, and atpress time, neither the basketball program nor theUniversity’s Office of Judicial Affairs were expected totake any action.)

For Murphy and her younger kids, being able to seeBattle on an almost daily basis has been a gift. The feel-ing is mutual. Battle has had some of his best games ondays when his family showed up unannounced at theBryce Jordan Center. He’s the one his youngest sistersclamor to call on Father’s Day, the one even Buie refersto as a father figure. “Everybody gravitates to him,”Murphy says. “The house comes alive when Bubbycomes home, and it has nothing to do with basketball.”

It seemed perfect: the family together, Battle inspiredby their presence, Buie given a year to acclimate to cen-tral Pennsylvania and his future teammates while stillin high school. It worked out well enough for Buie. Theinstant popularity brought by his athletic reputationmeant he made the State High homecoming courtbefore he knew most of his classmates’ names, andwhile he missed his friends in Albany, he knows themove was in his best interests. “Sometimes my friends

come down to visit,” Buie says, “and they tell methey wish they could move down here.”

As a 6-foot-2 senior last year, Buie earned sec-ond-team all-state honors for a State High teamthat lost in the district title game. It was a decentif somewhat disappointing season, but nothinglike what his big brother endured. As a junior lastseason, Battle led the Nittany Lions in points,assists, steals, and rebounds, making him theonly Division I player in the nation to top histeam in the major statistical categories. It was atonce a terrific individual feat and a reminder thatBattle simply didn’t have enough help; 5-foot-11guards, no matter how good they are, shouldnot lead their teams in rebounding. Penn Statefinished 11-20, and as one ESPN writer observedlast winter, “Talor Battle might be the closestthing in the nation to a one-man gang.”

It was incredibly frustrating, though Battlerarely let it show, publicly reiterating his supportfor his teammates and DeChellis wheneverasked. But the happiest hours he spent in a gym

last season might’ve come when he was cheering on hislittle brother from the stands at State High. One onparticular Saturday last winter, Battle sat in the highschool bleachers, doted on by his little sisters and sur-rounded by his mother and the more than 65 familymembers and friends who had come in from Harris-burg and Albany for the weekend. He wasn’t on thecourt, but he couldn’t have looked happier.

AST APRIL, A MONTH AFTER THE END

of that discouraging junior season, Battlesubmitted his name for entry into the 2010

NBA draft. The move gave him the chance to work outfor pro scouts without losing his final year of collegiateeligibility, as long as he pulled his name out of the hatby the NCAA-mandated date of May 8. Dozens of topcollege players test the waters this way each spring,hoping to impress NBA execs into promising them aspot in the draft while leaving themselves the chance togo back to school. Battle worked out for scouts fromthe Portland Trail Blazers, got feedback from morethan a dozen other teams, and heard nary a promisefrom any of them.

“In the end, it was easy,” Battle says of his decision toreturn to school. “Not having a clue if I’d get drafted, the FR

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Talor Battle enters his senior season 612 pointsshy of the 55-year-old school scoring record. He’salso on pace to be the first Nittany Lion to finishwith 1,000 points, 500 rebounds, and 400 assists.But is he the best ever at Penn State? Here’s ouralphabetical list of the top 10 players in schoolhistory. You decide how he stacks up. —RJ

JOHN AMAECHI ’94 LIB Penn State’s first all-BigTen pick averaged 15.6 points and 8.9 rebounds inhis career. Played five NBA seasons.

JESSE ARNELLE ’55 LIB, ’62 JD DSL Leading scorer(2,138) and rebounder (1,238) in program history.Led Lions to only Final Four berth.

FREDDIE BARNES ’92 BUS With 1,342 points andschool-record 600 assists, one of the most com-plete guards in school history.

CARVER CLINTON ’67 BUS Career averages of16.4 points and 10.3 rebounds both rank third inschool history.

JAMELLE CORNLEY ’09 H&HD Scored in doublefigures in each of his four seasons. Stands fourthall-time in points (1,579) and rebounds (755).

JOE CRISPIN ’01 COM Second all-time scorerwith 1,986 points. Made a record 108 three-point-ers in leading Lions to the 2001 Sweet 16.

MARK DUMARS ’61 BUS Averaged 17.8 points inthree seasons, second best in school history. Hon-orable-mention All-American in 1959 and ’60.

GENE HARRIS ’62 LIB Set single-game scoringrecord (46 points) against Holy Cross in 1962.Stands third on career rebounding list.

PETE LISICKY ’98 BUS Arguably the best pureshooter in school history, with a record 332 three-pointers. Stands No. 3 on career scoring list.

BOB WEISS ’66 H&HD Averaged 16.3 points overthree seasons. Went on to play 12 years in NBA.

HONORABLE MENTION: Calvin Booth ’98 Lib;Geary Claxton ’08 H&HD; Dan Earl ’97, ’07 MS Bus;Tom Hovasse ’89 Bus; Jarrett Stephens ’00 H&HD.

Best of the Best?

L

COMPLEMENTARY GAMES: WithBattle (above) running the point,and Buie contributing as a slashingtwo-guard, the brothers could forma potent backcourt tandem.