Approaching 10 p.m. on the eve of a recent blizzard, the Rockwood Music Hall, on the Lower East Side of Manhattan, was running low on breathing room, packed so tightly that each whoosh of cold air from the opening of the rear door brought sharp-eyed looks from those inside — no more, please. Even the stage was jammed: four musicians (drummer, keyboardist, two guitarists) and four singers, one of whom, stashed in the corner, slapping a tambourine against his hip, stood 6 feet 6 inches.
He was an accessory to this band, but Brandon Sherrod could appreciate the kind of obscurity that singing backup in a throbbing New York City nightclub on a Sunday evening can provide. He leaned into the microphone as light reflected off the lenses of thick-rimmed glasses.
“I don’t think many people recognize me here as a basketball player,” Sherrod said, standing offstage after the set had finished. He had wrapped a charcoal scarf around his neck. “Maybe they do. I have no idea.”
Maybe it is because Sherrod does not generally bring much attention to himself or because people are not quick to recognize what he was doing there, at a place, literally and figuratively, such a long way from the John L. Lee Amphitheatre, the home of the Yale basketball team. Maybe the story just seemed too far-fetched.
Brandon Sherrod left his role as a starting forward on the Yale basketball team to join the Whiffenpoofs, the all-male a cappella group.
Here was a Division I basketball player, lean and muscular, who averaged nearly 7 points and 4 rebounds a game last season as a starting forward for Yale. And here was a man who abdicated that role to fulfill a most unlikely aspiration: He wanted to sing.
–
Ricky Sherrod said his son had always possessed a self-assurance that gave his parents confidence he would not regret his decision.
“It’s something we admire about him,” Ricky Sherrod said. “He’s taken different risks and done different things. Being an African-American young man, he doesn’t allow people to say, ‘You’re just a basketball player and that’s it.’”
Sherrod stays in shape by playing pickup games at Jackie Robinson Middle School in New Haven, where he can squeeze in weekly runs with players like Bobby Moore, who was once one of New Haven’s most highly touted recruits, and Keith Cochran, who played at Rhode Island. He watches Yale games on his computer as often as he can. When the Bulldogs upset Connecticut, 45-44, on Dec. 5, Sherrod was in one of the last rows of Gampel Pavilion, screaming his voice hoarse.
“Everyone’s making sacrifices to be here,” said Young, a tenor-II in the group. “But it’s pretty crazy that we have a Division I athlete singing with us.”
Jones said Sherrod would have an opportunity to compete for his starting spot again next season. For now, he is spending long hours with his new teammates. After about six hours at Boyer’s house, the group finished recording. Out the door, they made plans for who was driving on the next day’s trip to a performance in New Jersey.
“No thanks; I’ll be sleeping,” Sherrod said, still humming Selena Gomez.
