Heroes Come in All Shapes and Sizes

I was ten years old in 1974 when NC State University won the national championship in basketball. I clearly remember the entire family gathering in the den to watch the nail-biting victory over powerhouse UCLA in the historic semi-final game. Everybody’s favorite was the local hero, David Thompson. And the giant in the middle of the lane, Tommy Burleson, was also a North Carolina boy. I loved those guys, but my favorite player was from Indiana. Monte Towe was five feet, six inches tall on his best day and ran the team from his point guard position. Being a little undersized myself at the time, and one who enjoyed playing some hoops, I could relate. Towe had heart, and there’s no doubt the National Championship banner than hangs in the basketball arena at NCSU today wouldn’t be there had Monte Towe never been born. Recently, I took my oldest son to visit State, and on the Friday night of our visit, attended a State basketball game and viewed the aforementioned banner in person. I also noticed on the bench an undersized assistant coach who I immediately recognized as one of my childhood heroes. My mind drifted back to that Saturday in the family den many years before. When State sealed the victory in overtime, I jumped high enough to touch the ceiling for the first time in my life, even putting a small dent in it. Monte would have been proud of me. On the second day of my State visit, I was able to procure football tickets for my son and his friend, but had some trouble getting one for myself. A last minute call from the NCSU baseball coach saved me. “Meet me at Gate 6 in about twenty minutes. I found another coach who has an extra ticket and we’re coming to give it to you,” claimed my friend. A few minutes later, the crowd of about 100 people waiting in line parted like the Red Sea (pun intended since they were all wearing red) as my ticket carrier arrived. We were ushered to the front of the line by security and it was there I received my ticket. Monte Towe was the coach with the extra ticket. In the moments before I shook his hand, I thought of a million things I could say to him. Something he didn’t hear a thousand times a week. Something about he inspired me as a child to be the best I could be- not only in sports, but in life. Maybe I could mention how I jumped high enough to touch the ceiling for the first time that day so many years ago and went on to become a point guard for my high school basketball team. Maybe I could tell him that he’s inspired thousands and thousands of people around the globe and given them reason to hope. Or I could keep it simple and tell him what a class guy I think he is. All these thoughts raced through my mind as my big moment finally arrived. After being introduced by the baseball coach, I looked Monte Towe right in the eye and uttered these immortal words- “Good game last night.” Sometimes you gotta keep it simple. Thanks for the ticket, Monte. But most of all, thanks for the memories.