As Jordan Farmar cut his piece of the net following UCLA’s
victory in the Pac-10 Tournament final, he climbed down the ladder
and immediately offered it to his sister, who’s never far
from his side.
The two embraced, Farmar taking a few seconds during the
postgame celebration to put his arm around his sister, Shoshana
Kolani, before eventually disappearing into the bowels of Staples
Center.
When the UCLA sophomore and his teammates take on Belmont in the
first round of the NCAA Tournament today in San Diego, Kolani will
be in the stands watching her brother’s every movement on the
basketball court.
It’s exactly where she was at Cal, at Stanford, and at
every home game at Pauley Pavilion this season.
And even at the games Kolani doesn’t travel to, Farmar
needn’t look past his left shoulder to find her.
That’s where a less-than-year-old tattoo depicts
Farmar’s arm around his 11-year-old sister spinning a
basketball, the duo staring up at the words “Just the two of
us.”
“She’s everything to me,” Farmar said.
Since Kolani was born, her and Farmar’s relationship has
revolved around a promise to their mother and a basketball.
Farmar, the only child of his mother Melinda’s first
marriage, remembers since his sister’s birth being repeatedly
confronted with a request by his mother.
“All my mom asks of me is that if she’s not able to,
that I take care of my sister,” Farmar said.
At this stage in their lives, most of that care has entailed
Farmer interacting with and nurturing his sister on the basketball
court.
It’s no secret Farmar has aspirations of playing
basketball professionally. It may come as a surprise that
Kolani’s goals are one and the same with her
brother’s.
So while Farmar recently bought his sister an iPod and
frequently takes her out to eat during the week, it’s
basketball and the future where the weight of the promise to his
mother will be measured.
“In the near future, I’m sure there will be bigger
stuff,” Farmar said. “I know Shawn (Shoshana) looks up
to me as a big brother, but on the court, she also looks up to me
as a player, and she emulates her game after mine.”
“That’s what makes us happy, and that’s how we
can relate to each other ““ through basketball.”
Whenever they’re at home together, Farmar and Kolani are
almost exclusively to be found in the backyard, the incessant sound
of a basketball dribbling permeating through the neighborhood.
At each affordable practice session, Farmar has a new basketball
lesson to impart onto his younger sister. Kolani recalls the most
important and perhaps most physically challenging one to date –
learning how to take the charge, she says.
While the type of basketball advice may change from week to
week, the result of their friendly scrimmages always remains the
same.
Apparently the off switch to Farmar’s competitive spirit
malfunctioned quite some time ago.
“Nope, she doesn’t win. Not once,” Farmar
said. “Never.”
“He never lets me win,” Kolani said. “He said
that’s only going to make me better.”
Yet while Farmar has attended and lived at UCLA since 2004,
he’s noticed subtle differences in Kolani. Though her
commitment to basketball has not since wavered and she still is
able to make several road trips during the season to follow her
brother, other areas of her life have begun to take form, something
Farmar didn’t see while growing up under the same roof.
“It’s interesting to see her wear skirts and see her
wear pink and be a little girl ““ what I didn’t see all
the time I was in the house growing up,” Farmar said.
“Now she has my room, she has a cell phone, her own phone
line. It’s crazy.”
Crazy enough to get a matching tattoo of her brother on her
shoulder? Not quite yet.
“I’m not a big fan of tattoos,” Kolani
said.
“I wouldn’t like a tattoo on my body, but I can
understand he’s doing it out of love and showing me how much
he cares about me.
“I guess that means it’s an OK tattoo.”
Farmar’s decision to get the tattoo, which nearly spans
from his elbow to his shoulder blade, was inspired from a drawing
by family friend Mark Watts, who has coached both Farmar and Kolani
on traveling and club teams.
Created following Farmar’s freshman season, the original
drawing hangs on the wall of Kolani’s room, which used to be
Farmar’s, with the UCLA sophomore donning a No. 11 jersey and
Kolani sporting the No. 2 on hers.
As soon as Farmar saw the drawing, he knew instantly it would
look just as good on his arm, with one minor exception.
“I’m No. 1,” Farmar said. “Not No.
11.”
Coming into his freshman season in 2004, Farmar approached UCLA
coach Ben Howland about obtaining the No. 1, a number he had always
worn, from returning senior Dijon Thompson. Farmar said that
Howland rejected the request, saying that under no circumstance
would he ask Thompson, a senior at the time, to give up his number.
The Bruin point guard chose the No. 11 instead, in honor of former
NBA all-star point guard Isiah Thomas.
Yet as soon as Farmar’s freshman season ended, so too did
the lifespan of No. 11.
The No. 1 on his arm also holds another, more significant
meaning to Farmar.
He is his mother’s first child, while Kolani is her
second.
“Shawn is always going to be second in the rotation, in
terms of my parents,” Farmar said.
But she’ll always be among the first of his
priorities.
With reports from Sagar Parikh, Bruin Sports senior
staff.