Skal Labissiere is interesting in the customary, obvious ways. He's interesting because every prodigy is interesting -- because, as a teenager, he's already better at something than most of us will ever be at anything, because the limits of his skill remain unapproached.

In Labissiere's case, that something is basketball. He is a 19-year-old basketball star. He is 7 feet tall with a 7-foot-2-inch wingspan, but he moves and plays like a normal-sized human. He is attending an extremely high-profile college in Kentucky, whose immediate basketball hopes hinge in large measure on his immediate performance. He is almost guaranteed to be a top-five selection in the earliest possible NBA draft for which he can declare, in 2016.

That's interesting. If Labissiere were your buddy, you would say, "I have an interesting buddy," just as if that buddy were Andrew Wiggins or Richie Tenenbaum or Jack Andraka. Teenage geniuses are interesting by default.

In other words, Labissiere's impending arrival in college basketball would be worth watching intently even if he were merely a guaranteed future NBA lottery pick.

But Labissiere is much, much more than that. His story is even more singular than his talents.

Labissiere was born in Port-au-Prince, Haiti, in 1996. By sixth grade, he was already good enough, tall enough and driven enough to be considering a move to the United States on the path to one day reaching the NBA. On Jan. 12, 2010, when he was 13, Labissiere returned home from basketball practice. He went to the bathroom. Then, as ESPNHS's Matt Remsberg wrote in 2012, "the ground began to shake."

[Labissiere] and his younger brother both ran to their mom, Ema, in the next room, where they huddled together as a magnitude 7.0 earthquake rumbled. As fate would have it, they were in the only room of their home that didn't completely cave in, but the wall they were leaning against began collapsing on top of them. A desk was the only thing preventing it from coming all the way down. [...]

As thunderous noise gave way to eerie silence, Skal heard his father, Leslie, in hysterics. His dad had been outside at the time of the earthquake and could only watch as the home crumbled with his wife and children inside. Soon, though, Leslie heard his family crying for help, so he hurried off to get assistance.

Haiti was already the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere in 2010, plagued by corruption, coups, and economic isolation since its days as a ruthlessly managed French colony. The earthquake is estimated to have killed between 100,000 to 160,000 people; it destroyed much of Port-au-Prince, including the Presidential Palace and the National Assembly Building. Morgues were overwhelmed. Mass graves were dug.

The Labissieres were rescued after three hours. Skal's legs were pinned down by what was left of the wall, and he would struggle to walk for weeks afterward. They were, relatively speaking, lucky. Labissiere recovered. Eight months later, he was in Cordova, Tennessee, a newly emigrated and newly enrolled eighth-grade student.

Which brings us to the next, and probably best-known, chapter of Labissiere's story, the highlights of which touch almost every morally questionable facet of modern American grassroots basketball. Labissiere's move to the United States was facilitated by Reach Your Dream, an organization whose prescription-drug-template website describes its "vision" as "promoting spiritual awareness, self confidence, and innovative thinking for future generations in various communities throughout the world."

Its mission?

With many youth having no direction on what they would like to do in life or lack the resources to accomplish it, it was evident that a tool was needed to guide these young people. Seeing the need the Reach Your Dream [sic] was then founded in 2005 by Gerald Hamilton (and registered in 2009 as a 501(c) (3) non-profit).

Hamilton became Labissiere's legal guardian. Along with fellow Haitian native Samuel Jean-Gilles -- who abruptly left Hamilton's care in 2014 on an overnight bus to Boston -- Labissiere is the only player publicly affiliated with Reach Your Dream.

In November 2014, CBS's Gary Parrish reported that Hamilton had called well-connected AAU broker Keith Easterwood to ask how he could "make money off a basketball player."

Labissiere changed high schools twice and played for three separate summer programs while, according to Parrish, "multiple coaches who have recruited Labissiere told CBSSports.com Hamilton either directly indicated or strongly suggested pursuing Labissiere would mostly be a waste of time if they couldn't offer assistance in helping fund his foundation."

Labissiere had morphed from a promising eighth-grader to a future NBA prospect by the time he transferred high schools for the last time, just before his senior season. When the move squandered his state eligibility, Hamilton founded "Reach Your Dream Preparatory Academy"; in October 2014. Labissiere declared his intention to play for a prep school that didn't yet exist.

Naturally, the NCAA has long been examining this whole saga intently. Kentucky coach John Calipari has long expressed confidence in Labissiere's college eligibility, but officially, the matter is still up in the air.

Whatever happens -- it seems likely Labissiere will play -- Labissiere's prep career seems tinged with everything people find exploitative and distasteful about grassroots basketball. And yet, despite the volume of those doubts, Labissiere regards the Hamiltons as his family:

"Mr. Hamilton here, I'm so thankful for you," Labissiere said. "I know people are always jealous of you, talk bad about you. But just know I have your back. Don't worry."

Labissiere's background is not your average, hardscrabble tale. His is not your run-of-the-mill recruitment story. He would have always been an interesting player; he's too good not to be.

Yet -- and we mean this as a compliment -- Labissiere's talent might be the least interesting thing about him. For now.