He was 6,000 miles from his family and friends in Baltimore, and incalculably further culturally. He didn’t speak the language. He was cold, even when the wind didn’t whip. His girlfriend was in Iceland, multiple time zones and flights away.
But Isaiah Lamb didn’t want to leave Armenia. In the several months since he’d arrived in the unlikeliest place to play pro basketball, he’d grown to like the country and revel in its charms, in his own fish-out-of-water story. This wasn’t the NBA, but he was thrilled to be playing in a league where coaches didn’t adhere to a rigid system, where they let their players ball.