KALAMAZOO - Following his sack against Syracuse last week, an impassioned Antonio "Tony" Balabani pumped his right arm in celebration.

On the bicep of that arm is a tattoo featuring a double-headed eagle, a symbol of his Albanian ethnic heritage.

"It's really a motivation every time I look at it," he said. "It’s more than just a couple colors and shapes on the arm."

Balabani is a native of Kosovo and a fifth-year senior defensive end at Western Michigan University. It has been two decades since he and his family fled their homeland, which was then in the midst of the Kosovo War.

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The conflict between the Federal Republic of Yugoslavia (now Serbia and Montenegro) and the Kosovo Liberation Army raged for 16 months. The KLA were rebels made up mostly of Kosovo Albanians, or Kosovars, the largest ethnic group in the nation.

Nearly 9,000 Kosovars were killed or are missing from the conflict, many as a result of ethnic cleansing.

Balabani identifies as a Kosovar. He wants his tattoo to be a beacon, a sign for others.

"We are very proud people," Balabani said. "Albanians like to see other Albanians succeed. I want people to see my arm, whether it is on the field, on TV, another Albanian doing something like that. To give them, wherever we’ve been and whatever we’ve been through — we all haveasimilar story, the majority of us — we can get past that and do great things."

Another reminder of Balabni's roots sits on the dashboard of his car. It's a family picture unlike any other he possesses.

The photo shows him as a toddler, standing along side his older sister, Katrin, his father, Luigj, and his mother, Jacinte, who is holding his then-infant sister, Elizabeth. Behind them are makeshift beds in a tent in Tataloo, Macedonia, a refugee camp they would call home for the better part of three months.

The year was 1999, and the family had been forced to leave their village near Vitina, Kosovo, they say, under the threat of imminent death from Serbian soldiers.

'Everyone will be dead'

Luigj and his brother-in-law had been caught outside past the curfew imposed by the Yugoslavian government. His family was told to wait outside as the pair were taken to the basement and beaten.

"I have really vivid images of soldiers going around the house shutting the blinds. I remember thinking, 'This can’t be good,'" said Katrin, who was 7 at the time. "We were afraid we were going to find him dead... My mom said, 'Stay inside with the kids and grandma,' and she went into the basement. I didn’t listen to my mom and saw her bring my dad upstairs. He was wearing a white shirt. You could see all the blood stains and splatters on him and my uncle."

According to Luigj, the soldiers didn't mince words.

"‘This night we let you go, next night if we see you, everyone will be dead,’" he recalled. "April 23, 1999, we had to leave our house... Anybody would do the same thing."

The family collected some of their belongings and left the country. Luigj, a construction worker, said it cost the family their entire savings to cross the border into Macedonia. At the refugee camp, Tony and Elizabeth initially slept on beds made of hay, while Katrin and their parents slept on mats laid across landscaping rocks.

"I remember the bus ride to the refugee camp was crowded... Women were weeping. I won’t forget those faces, the look of defeat," Katrin said. "It was horrible because we weren’t home. My parents didn’t have any prospects, but for the time being, it was good because we were at least safe and away from the initial threat of being murdered."

Following the NATO bombing of Yugoslavia that ended the conflict, the United States government offered asylum to 20,000 of the Kosovo refugees in Macedonia. The Balabanis were selected, in part, because they had family already living in the U.S. and would be better equipped to assimilate.

"I didn’t have a penny in my pocket," Luigj said. "They brought us here to U.S. for free. There was some kind of agreement for (airline) tickets we received from a church."

The family was on food stamps for several weeks, before Luigj found work in construction and quickly canceled the government assistance. His first paycheck went back to the church that had paid for his family of five to fly to their new home in Sterling Heights near Detroit.

"When we came here, my dad wasn’t here asking, 'What can I get from America?' It was, ‘How do I say thank you?’" Tony said. "The only way we know to say thank you is by working and making the most of whatever somebody gave us. We are very thankful for this country, the people here and the opportunity to be here."

Football family

The Balabani family first went back to Kosovo in 2002 to visit family. They have continued to return to their homeland for summer vacations, but they planted new roots in Metro Detroit.

"My goal; I want to come here, this is the best country in the whole world," Luigj said. "Now I am American citizen. My goal was to learn English and know this history of the United States, and one day I ended up passing my test to become a US citizen."

Through their father, Tony and his sisters became naturalized citizens. His mother has permanent resident status. Luigj and Jacinte found upward mobility by working multiple jobs at a time, until Luigj started his own construction business.

Tony had shown himself to be skilled on the soccer field at a young age. But his eighth grade physical education teacher, noticing the strapping boy in class, steered him to football and told him he should quit soccer and become a defensive end for the football team.

"When I told my dad I wanted to play football, he was like, 'No. We play soccer,'" Tony said with a laugh. "He never watched (football) or was interested."

Luigj admitted he didn't know much about the sport at the time. But he was also testing his son.

"I said no to see how much he wants to go play football," he said. "I did see when he kept saying it, so I said, 'OK try it.'"

Tony attended Dakota High School in Macomb Township, where he soon made a name for himself on the gridiron and the wrestling mat. Meanwhile, he worked construction for his father.

"In high school coming to the games, (my dad) didn’t even know what to cheer for at the time," Tony said. "He’d hear the announcer call my name, he’d yell. He didn’t know what was going on. As my career has progressed, his knowledge of the game has progressed. If I am home, my parents are watching the football network. They are all in it too."

While he was being recruited for football, Tony had yet to be offered a Division I scholarship as a junior. A devout Catholic, he was in a confessional with his priest, discussing what he felt was a crossroads in his young adult life.

"Is (football) something I should pursue? I was working heavily with my dad, should I keep working on football or keep helping my dad with the company? I needed help with my priorities," Tony said. "As I'm talking to the priest, my phone was ringing in confession. It was a phone number from Buffalo. I called back and they offered me a scholarship. If this is not a sign, what is a sign? All in, chips on the table, this is what I need to do. Then the day after the WMU offer, I committed."

At WMU, Balabani redshirted before appearing in three games in 2016, when the Broncos went 13-1, won the Mid-American Conference title and appeared in the Cotton Bowl. The following year, he became the full-time starting defensive end, despite his chiseled frame being a tad small for the position at 6-foot-3, 245 pounds.

"He makes people around him better," said WMU head coach Tim Lester. "He’s always positive. If you know where he came from, you understand. You cannot put that guy in a bad mood. It’s impossible. He will find a way to make every situation – good, bad or indifferent – he’ll put a silver lining on it and will go back out there and play just as hard if not harder the next play."

The relentless Balabani has made a name for himself as one of the Broncos' hardest hitters. He's also on pace to have his most productive season yet. In December, he'll graduate with hopes of eventually returning to the Detroit area to work for one of the big three automotive companies.

"Very proud to be here. Very proud to be an American and to be an Albanian," Tony said. "Hopefully I can make Albanians all over the world proud, and we as a football team can make everyone proud."

Nick Buckley can be reached at nbuckley@battlecreekenquirer.com or 269-966-0652. Follow him on Twitter:@NickJBuckley

CENTRAL MICHIGAN (2-2) AT WESTERN MICHIGAN (2-2)

When: Saturday, noon

TV/Radio/Stream: CBS Sports Network; 96.5 FM/94.1 FM; TuneIn

Line: WMU by 17.5