This isn’t an obituary for John Thompson. This also isn’t a eulogy for Big John, because a man as emotionally anchored and physically domineering requires no memorial. Thompson will cast a shadow, in some form, for as long as there is light. If we’re being honest, I’m not exactly sure what this is, because it’s kind of about me. And about how John Thompson influenced my head and heart without either of us existing in the same 10-feet of space.
I. IT DOESN’T ALWAYS MAKE SENSE AT THE BEGINNING
January 16, 1999. This was supposed to be the first Syracuse-Georgetown game that I would watch as a Syracuse student.