Rivaldo Soares always kept things close to his chest, rarely letting his father know the talents he possessed on the basketball court.
“I’ve always been to myself and he gets mad at me to this day,” Soares said. “In high school, I would just be like ‘I got a game. I’m about to head out.’ All the while I’m scoring 27 points.”
His quiet demeanor trickled into the way in which he described his upbringing.
Maybe it was because he’s rarely been asked about it? Maybe, since he lived through it from the time he was born, it’s become normalized? Or maybe, it’s that his father — who immigrated to the U.S. from Cape Verde before Soares was born — knew all too well that the situation could have been far worse, and instilled that reality in his son?
Either way, when Soares recalled his childhood, when he thought about what he lived through before basketball became his escape, he struggled to find the right words. Rather than painting a picture — one that may have forced him to live through those moments again — he shared how they continue to impact him to this day.
“We all have a different perception of home,” Soares said. “My home has changed a lot, so it’s forced me to learn how to fit into my surroundings.”
Those experiences as a kid, that constant moving from place to place, made transitions like the one from Boston, Massachusetts, to South Plains, Texas — a town he described as being “in the middle of nowhere with nothing but a Walmart” — and then to Eugene, Oregon — a city that he felt embraced him — pretty seamless. It’s why no matter what role he’s been offered on the basketball court, he’s accepted it and excelled in it. It’s why when he’s in a shooting slump, like the one he went through earlier this season, he still contributed to the Oregon men’s basketball team.
As a kid, Soares was oblivious to the fact that his situation was the antithesis of many others’. It was all he knew. Now, as a junior in college, it’s taught him how to adjust to each new setting.
Soares grew up in the inner city of Boston — a small town called Dorchester. His mom left when he was four. At times, he and his father, Adriano, were homeless or living on the couches of their relatives, until Adriano could afford an apartment where the two shared a bed. Adriano didn’t actively hide any shortcomings from his son as he hoped that Soares would learn from the circumstances and be grateful for the things he did have.
When he was 14 he got his own room, after the pair had moved in with Adriano’s girlfriend at the time.
“I’ll always know [Boston] will be home,” Soares said. “But it doesn’t give me the homey feeling because my Dad moved into a one-bedroom apartment, so when I go back to Boston I have to find a place to stay.”
It had always been that way, though. Yes, he grew up in Boston and lived there for 18 years, but there was no place that provided a consistent roof over the heads of him and his father.
He and his friends all lived around an elementary school with outdoor basketball courts and a football field, and they spent the majority of their days outside indulging in sports. Soares didn’t have a phone, so he would just peek out of his window to see if anyone was playing.
“My Dad worked from 7 a.m. to 4 p.m.,” Soares said. “So sports definitely kept me busy and kept me out of trouble.”
It didn’t hurt that he excelled in most he tried his hand at. Soares began to play basketball on the AAU circuit in fifth grade, but the first organized sport he tried was swimming. He knew he could play basketball at a high level, but didn’t take it seriously until his sophomore year of high school.
That phenomenon was unbeknownst to Drew Hughes-Brock, the O’Bryant high school varsity basketball coach. He wouldn’t have known Soares was disinterested in the sport when he first sought him out as an eighth grader.
He was drawn to Soares as a player because of his willingness to fill a role and excel in it.
“We had a little bit of trouble at the point guard spot,” Hughes-Brock said. “I remember just watching him as an eighth grader, and he was just real smooth… he would never turn the ball over.”
When Soares would bring the ball up the court he would put his back to his defender to protect his dribble. It was a technique popularized by many point guards in the 1900s, but one rarely practiced in the modern-day game. Hughes-Brock appreciated it as he thought it would allow Soares to shield the ball from the bigger players he’d face at the varsity level.
As an eighth grader, Soares took a senior’s spot in the starting lineup.
“In the first game I called him up; he took a charge,” Hughes-Brock said. “After that his minutes doubled, and within a week he was starting.”
If it was his ability to handle the ball and score that got him to varsity, then it was his willingness to put his body on the line that secured his spot in the starting lineup.
His play improved rapidly, and by sophomore year he had become one of the leading scorers on the team. When they needed a bucket or someone to incite a run, Hughes-Brock put that responsibility on him. It was a tough transition for Soares, whose reserved disposition worked its way onto the court. He had just begun to take basketball seriously and had found comfort in a point guard role, which entailed protecting the ball and bettering the play of those around him.
“He’s more of a pass-first shoot-second guy,” Hughes-Brock said. “There were times where I literally had to call a timeout and be like, ‘hey, I need you to take over the game so we don’t lose.’”
Along with an improvement in play, he had grown to 6-foot-6, yet Hughes-Brock insisted he’d remain listed as a guard. Soon, Soares’ repertoire garnered looks from college coaches. It was an unexpected development for a kid whose interest in basketball had hardly piqued. That manifested itself in the classroom, where Soares’ grades weren’t high enough to earn a Division I scholarship. Instead he committed to South Plains College to embark on a journey that he hoped would result in a Division I scholarship.
When he arrived in Texas, head coach Steve Green knew he was talented enough to play 30-plus minutes a night, but was unsure of where Soares would fit in schematically, as he had no problems with guard play.
Green ran an offense predicated on setting screens — an assignment Soares was rarely tasked with in high school, but had taken on when he was the tallest kid on his AAU team. In Green’s offense, when the five set a screen on the ball, he would roll or pop out for a three. However when the four set a screen on the ball it could be swung to him in a position that exploited a switch and initiated offense.
“In junior college, nobody wants to play the four because they don’t think it’s their ticket to the big time,” Green said. “I had issues with two guys who wanted to have the ball and come off ball screens.”
“We had a four man that didn’t want to be the four,” Soares said. “I was like, ‘Coach, I’ll do it. The ball’s always in his hands anyways. Let me pass it and go set a screen, slip it, be involved in the play, more.’”
“He was very willing to do whatever it took,” Green said. “That puts you lightyears ahead of a lot of guys that are very narrow minded.”
And the catch to all of this, that open mind that he had toward playing the four, that became his ticket to the big time.
At Oregon, acts like embracing a position others push away evolved into making hustle plays that no others desire to make. That’s become his calling card and a defining factor in why he’s seen his minutes rise from 18 per game last year to 29.
While those point guard duties he accepted in high school now fall on the shoulders of Will Richardson, Keeshawn Barthlemey and others, Soares still retains that same pass-first mindset that fascinated coach Hughes-Brock in high school.
During Oregon’s 74-60 win against Washington State in early December of 2022, the Ducks had struggled to create any separation from the Cougars in the first half. But in the second half, they found an advantage feeding center N’Faly Dante on the inside. Soares found him three times on lob passes that flew just over the outstretched arms of Mouhamed Gueye, and by the end of the night he had tallied seven assists.
Dante went on to score a career-high 22 points, in large part because of the service from Soares.
Soares’ malleability also helped Oregon overcome a ranked opponent in Villanova earlier this season.
Midway through the second quarter it seemed as if Soares showed little fight as Villanova’s Brendan Hausen boxed him out and forced him beyond the boundary line to the left side of the basket.
But as his teammate Tyrone Williams launched a corner three, Soares shifted out of Hausen’s grasp, positioning himself to corral the miss. He then found forward Quincy Guerrier on the wing for an open triple. This time, his teammate’s shot clanked off the right side of the rim and trickled into the corner. Soares seemingly predicted the direction of the miss and darted across the paint to beat every Wildcat in pursuit of the ball, setting up a third opportunity for the Ducks.
On the following possession, he hit a corner three that put the Ducks up 50-42 — a lead they held onto as they defeated Villanova 74-67, on Nov. 27, 2022.
While it was his only made three of the night, it came at a pivotal juncture. And it was Soares presence on the glass — he had eight rebounds, five of them coming on the offensive side — that gave the shorthanded Ducks the edge, that night.
It’s plays like these — and an injury bug, of course — that make it tough to take Soares off the court, despite him shooting 35% from the field and 25% from deep, halfway through the season.
So when he’s asked about what his position is now, or what role he fits into on this iteration of the Oregon men’s basketball team, it’s tough for him to point out just one.
“I consider myself a jack-of-all-trades,” Soares said. “I feel like I’m just a guy that you need to have on the floor.”
Answering that question, Soares flashed a wide grin, one that suggests he’s found comfort in the tasks he’s asked to fulfill for the Oregon men’s basketball team. And along with that role on the court, despite living in Eugene for just 19 months, he’s begun to consider it his home. That is, more than Dorchester or Boston ever were.
“When I leave Eugene now I lowkey have a homesick feeling,” he said. “I can’t wait to comeback to my house, my room. To be honest, in my life, I never really had that.”
