Battle

Despite eye patch, Dalton Bolon keeps shooting for West Liberty University

Courtesy of West Liberty Athletics

Dalton Bolon has adjusted as a shooter with an eyepatch.

Dalton Bolon stared at the basket and released a shot from the 3-point line. The ball clanged off the backboard, and his mother, Tamela, chased the rebound. Bolon reset, and shot again. A second brick. Then a third. It was a lot harder to see, let alone shoot, with just one eye.

“I felt bad for my mom,” Bolon said. “She was running all over the place.”

It was the end of last August, and the two had biked to Hecks Grove Park, near their Gnadenhutten, Ohio home, to shoot 1,000 3-pointers. By the end, Tamela chased more rebounds than ever before, despite all the years of shooting with her son. For Bolon, a Division II basketball player who made 40 percent of his 3-pointers the year prior, this was odd. Something was different about his stroke.

On his left eye rested an eye patch. It was the first time ever Bolon played with one, and the black circular cover allowed Bolon to see one basket. After an accident at an open gym last summer caused nerve damage, Bolon saw two rims and needed to re-learn a shooting technique he mastered back in high school. This season, despite the eye patch, Bolon averages 22 points per game, the leading scorer on No. 7 West Liberty (24-3, 20-2 Mountain East). Nobody knows how he’s improved his production, but the redshirt sophomore has anyway.

“He doesn’t even hit the rim when he shoots,” West Liberty head coach Ben Howlett said. “It’s all net.”



Two weeks before shooting with his mom, Bolon’s life changed at “Dave’s gym,” a home-built gym in Holmes County, Ohio, and a 45-minute drive from Bolon’s house. Halfway through an open gym one Sunday, Bolon snagged a rebound and 37-year-old Jason Mishler tried to swipe the ball.

Mishler missed, scraping Bolon’s eye with his fingernail. Blood spattered all over the hardwood and, without seeing or hearing anything, Bolon stumbled to the ground. Brady Arnold, Bolon’s teammate at West Liberty, got frustrated while Bolon lay on the court, because he thought Bolon was trying to slow the game’s pace. But when Bolon turned around, Arnold’s frustration turned to shock.

In a Lowe’s parking lot two hours away, Howlett, Bolon’s coach, felt a similar disbelief. He received a text from Bolon, with a picture of his stitched up eyelid. Howlett thought stitches couldn’t go there.

Bolon initially thought it was a black eye or a scratched cornea, hoping it would heal in a few weeks. Doctors sewed his eyelid back together. A month later, Bolon drove to Pittsburgh, where an optometry specialist doctor told him his vision would never be the same.

Howlett told Bolon to sit out the season, if needed. But Bolon wanted to explore playing basketball full-time with an eyepatch. He bought his first patches from CVS, though later he’d switch to Walmart since CVS didn’t have padding. They are $1.50 each, and he changes them out every four games. He buys one every time he goes grocery shopping, and always keeps about 20 extra.

After trying out the eyepatches, Bolon decided he couldn’t stay away from a basketball for more than a few days. In middle school, after Bolon didn’t like wrestling, Tamela had suggested basketball. Since then, Bolon had put in too much work to watch his basketball career slip away. He set the single-game and career scoring records while at Indian Valley (Ohio)High School, but he craved more.

“There’s kids out there that are always finding reasons not to play,” Mishler said. “He’s always finding a reason to play.”

When Bolon was in seventh grade, Indian Valley basketball coach James Herman volunteered to help with Bolon’s jumper. Herman’s message was clear: Bolon wouldn’t make the eighth grade team, or any after that, unless he learned how to shoot. Bolon and Herman broke down the shots of Indian Valley varsity players, and charted misses and makes from their own workouts. Soon, he gained a reputation as a “standstill shooter.” Bolon dragged himself to the gym at 5:30 a.m., and watched film as a 12 year old after school. But after an illustrious high school career, he initially couldn’t match the pace of college basketball.

During his redshirt season with the Hilltoppers, Bolon molded his shot further. He and Luke Dyer, both redshirts, played “King of the Hill” with Howlett at 7 a.m. Each day, games were to 21, and the scorer stayed on and faced a new defender. For the first half of the season, he couldn’t beat his coach. But as the midway point passed and Bolon developed his mid-range and post shots, he improved and won MEC Freshman of the Year in 2018.

“He’s able to get to the basket now, he’s gotten a lot stronger, he’s able to take some hits and finish at the rim,” Howlett said. “But he’s also got a good pullup game.”

When Howlett found out about Bolon’s eye patch, he played with one to understand what Bolon went through. It was a three-on-three pickup game, and the head coach’s shots never came close to the basket. When someone screened Howlett, he didn’t see it coming until a shoulder collided with body.

“The depth perception, catching passes, seeing defenders from that side, it’s hard,” Howlett said. “But it hasn’t really bothered (Bolon) that much.”

During the next three months, Howlett watched as Bolon’s air balls and bricked shots turned into consistent makes. During the Hilltoppers’ first game this season, Bolon shot 18 percent from beyond the arc but came back and made four 3-pointers the next game. Despite the patch, Bolon just kept shooting. Soon, his 3-point percentage jumped to nearly 45 percent.

After last Wednesday’s 99-98 win over Notre Dame College, the Hilltoppers received T-shirts celebrating their second-consecutive regular season MEC championship. The past six months, Bolon has adjusted his shot, his passing, his expectations. There’s a chance Bolon could play next season without an eyepatch, a chance he could once again shoot like most basketball players do. But that wouldn’t be normal for him anymore.

“If I had to go back to two eyes, I’d be all messed up,” Bolon said.

That night, as Bolon’s shirt came down over his head, his eyepatch fell out of place. He quickly straightened it and continued to celebrate.

ch





Top Stories