A College Basketball Player Who Is Also a Law School Student
Braeden Anderson is both a varsity basketball player and a first-year law student at Seton Hall. “It takes tremendous discipline,” a classmate of Anderson’s said.
Alex Goodlett for The New York Times
By ZACH SCHONBRUN
December 12, 2015
NEWARK — The circulation desk was still closed early on a recent Monday morning in the Peter W. Rodino Jr. Library, on the fourth level of the Seton Hall School of Law, where Braeden Anderson settled by a desk in the corner. He flipped an accordion-size textbook to Page 563.
Just outside, pale sunlight cast the hallways in a periwinkle glaze, nearly matching the color on the coffee mug resting before him, with Seton Hall’s logo, a patch-eyed pirate, splashed across it. The watch on Anderson’s left wrist read 7:35 a.m. Like most of the other first-year law students, he had almost every minute of the unfolding day mapped out. Except that his schedule included basketball practice that afternoon.
His days, then, seem to carry out like a stream of buzzer beaters. He has learned to thrive on less sleep — five, maybe six hours — than is recommended for a Division I athlete, and tailored his diet to handle the toll that the academic-athletic duality of his life can take. But Anderson is not one to complain. In fact, as he skimmed line by line through a textbook on torts, he insisted there were aspects of his studies that amused him.
Take this case, for example, he said, pointing over at Page 557. Bencivenga v. J.J.A.M.M. Inc. (1992). Guy at a nightclub gets beaten up by some other guys.
Anderson in his class on torts, a subject he said “is actually funny sometimes.” A basketball scholarship covers his tuition.
Alex Goodlett for The New York Times
“Torts is actually funny sometimes,” Anderson said.
He chuckled at the details before arriving at the crux of the article, the actionable dispute that landed the case onto his pages of study.
“Can you apportion a percentage of liability to an unnamed party?” Anderson asked.
“See, the facts are pretty straightforward,” he added. “But the legal analysis is actually pretty tricky.”
Anderson’s schedule sometimes prevents him from working out with his Seton Hall teammates or even traveling with them. He said he was “doing a million things at once.”
Alex Goodlett for The New York Times
At 6 feet 9 inches, with thick tattooed arms, Anderson, 23, would make an imposing courtroom presence. On the court for the Pirates (7-2), he plays sparingly but aggressively, pursuing rebounds with abandon and setting an active tone on defense. A graduate transfer from Fresno State, Anderson is a selfless role player, comfortable setting screens, running the floor and moving the ball.
He said his goals had changed over the years.
Growing up, Anderson wanted to play in the N.B.A., and when he was a top prep school prospect, it appeared as if he might be on that track. A serious car accident in 2013 affected that trajectory, though. His focus shifted more toward academics. He still wanted to earn money for his family, but now it is as a corporate lawyer. He also still wanted to play basketball. Who said he could not do both?
Anderson scored 161 in one attempt on his Law School Admission Test, landing him in the 82nd percentile. He seriously weighed an offer from Penn State’s law school, but with no basketball option. Finally, Seton Hall gave him the chance to test his skills in both arenas.
Class began at 10:30, and Anderson scrunched his tall frame into a swivel seat in the fifth row of a 90-seat lecture hall for his final class before the exam. He estimated that he had missed five classes in the first semester traveling with the team. But when the Pirates left on a Thursday to travel to Penn State for a Friday night exhibition earlier in the fall, Anderson remained behind, attended Friday class and drove to State College, Pa., with an assistant to make it before tipoff.
“Braeden,” his professor, Brian Sheppard, called midway through class. “What was the lower court’s decision?”
“They found in favor of the plaintiff,” Anderson said, drawing a quick nod in response. Yes, indeed, he had studied Bencivenga.
After class, Anderson made plans with fellow students to meet back in the library for a group study session, 12 hours after he had arrived. But first, he had to drive to South Orange, N.J., Seton Hall’s main campus, where a strength coach was waiting for him to work out, a trainer was waiting to tape him and his teammates were waiting for him to practice before a big game in Washington.
Anderson, far right, said his teammates often do not know what to make of him — a basketball player who happily trades video games for textbooks.
Alex Goodlett for The New York Times
Braeden Anderson is both a varsity basketball player and a first-year law student at Seton Hall. “It takes tremendous discipline,” a classmate of Anderson’s said.
Alex Goodlett for The New York Times
By ZACH SCHONBRUN
December 12, 2015
NEWARK — The circulation desk was still closed early on a recent Monday morning in the Peter W. Rodino Jr. Library, on the fourth level of the Seton Hall School of Law, where Braeden Anderson settled by a desk in the corner. He flipped an accordion-size textbook to Page 563.
Just outside, pale sunlight cast the hallways in a periwinkle glaze, nearly matching the color on the coffee mug resting before him, with Seton Hall’s logo, a patch-eyed pirate, splashed across it. The watch on Anderson’s left wrist read 7:35 a.m. Like most of the other first-year law students, he had almost every minute of the unfolding day mapped out. Except that his schedule included basketball practice that afternoon.
His days, then, seem to carry out like a stream of buzzer beaters. He has learned to thrive on less sleep — five, maybe six hours — than is recommended for a Division I athlete, and tailored his diet to handle the toll that the academic-athletic duality of his life can take. But Anderson is not one to complain. In fact, as he skimmed line by line through a textbook on torts, he insisted there were aspects of his studies that amused him.
Take this case, for example, he said, pointing over at Page 557. Bencivenga v. J.J.A.M.M. Inc. (1992). Guy at a nightclub gets beaten up by some other guys.
Anderson in his class on torts, a subject he said “is actually funny sometimes.” A basketball scholarship covers his tuition.
Alex Goodlett for The New York Times
“Torts is actually funny sometimes,” Anderson said.
He chuckled at the details before arriving at the crux of the article, the actionable dispute that landed the case onto his pages of study.
“Can you apportion a percentage of liability to an unnamed party?” Anderson asked.
“See, the facts are pretty straightforward,” he added. “But the legal analysis is actually pretty tricky.”
Anderson’s schedule sometimes prevents him from working out with his Seton Hall teammates or even traveling with them. He said he was “doing a million things at once.”
Alex Goodlett for The New York Times
At 6 feet 9 inches, with thick tattooed arms, Anderson, 23, would make an imposing courtroom presence. On the court for the Pirates (7-2), he plays sparingly but aggressively, pursuing rebounds with abandon and setting an active tone on defense. A graduate transfer from Fresno State, Anderson is a selfless role player, comfortable setting screens, running the floor and moving the ball.
He said his goals had changed over the years.
Growing up, Anderson wanted to play in the N.B.A., and when he was a top prep school prospect, it appeared as if he might be on that track. A serious car accident in 2013 affected that trajectory, though. His focus shifted more toward academics. He still wanted to earn money for his family, but now it is as a corporate lawyer. He also still wanted to play basketball. Who said he could not do both?
Anderson scored 161 in one attempt on his Law School Admission Test, landing him in the 82nd percentile. He seriously weighed an offer from Penn State’s law school, but with no basketball option. Finally, Seton Hall gave him the chance to test his skills in both arenas.
Class began at 10:30, and Anderson scrunched his tall frame into a swivel seat in the fifth row of a 90-seat lecture hall for his final class before the exam. He estimated that he had missed five classes in the first semester traveling with the team. But when the Pirates left on a Thursday to travel to Penn State for a Friday night exhibition earlier in the fall, Anderson remained behind, attended Friday class and drove to State College, Pa., with an assistant to make it before tipoff.
“Braeden,” his professor, Brian Sheppard, called midway through class. “What was the lower court’s decision?”
“They found in favor of the plaintiff,” Anderson said, drawing a quick nod in response. Yes, indeed, he had studied Bencivenga.
After class, Anderson made plans with fellow students to meet back in the library for a group study session, 12 hours after he had arrived. But first, he had to drive to South Orange, N.J., Seton Hall’s main campus, where a strength coach was waiting for him to work out, a trainer was waiting to tape him and his teammates were waiting for him to practice before a big game in Washington.
Anderson, far right, said his teammates often do not know what to make of him — a basketball player who happily trades video games for textbooks.
Alex Goodlett for The New York Times
