Being nostalgic

The seed was planted I know not when, but last night it sprouted to yield this nostalgic fruit.
Coach, thanks for the memories. I hope to have to update the crown count one day - HE

COACH
by E.P. Dawson 2026-02-09

From the central Oklahoma country he drove
Looking for gold at the end of the road
With a bouncy orange ball and a hoop made of steel
Searching for gold but keeping it real.

Growing up in the shadow of Iba of lore
was a tug at his heart he just couldn’t ignore.
So he played the game hard,
Bonded it to his core.
When he finally stopped playing, he’d left it all on the floor.

Growing up he learned the game he loved first hand
from the hands of his very first coach, his old man.
So basketball coaching? ‘Twas a natural thing
To walk in Pop’s footsteps in search of a ring.

His first college gig? In the Land of THE PHOG
where the great Larry Brown gave him his first job.
The Traveling Man taught him well goes the story.
Then he headed back to Iba territory
To learn all he could in the house he’d played in
Before heading back out on the great prairie winds.

He made winners and men of so many young boys
At Oral Roberts, Tulsa and of course, Illinois.
Until came the chance of a lifetime to claim
The hearts of the fans at the Cradle of the Game.

He smiled as they brought him forth to the stand.
His “That seat’s hot” comment made news ‘round the land.

Over two decades later and two national crowns
He’s ridden that hot seat where glories abound.

With all of the rings that he ever could need
Even he isn’t sure how much longer he’ll be.
As long as he’s loving it
And his health is okay
He might just keep postponing that day.

But when at last he finally walks out of his door,
Across Naismith Court and the AFH floor,
One last time as head coach of KANSAS he’ll ride
away from THE PHOG…
his home…

… down Naismith Drive.

Great stuff!