The numbers all go to 11!

From Boardwalk Hall in Atlantic City, an empty scoreboard was the final visual on a great season whose conclusion was prematurely and heartlessly stolen from us. (Photo by Jaden Daly/Daly Dose Of Hoops)

Everything dies, baby, that’s a fact.

Before I go any further, if you’re a regular visitor to this great website, which celebrates its eleventh birthday on this day, you’ll know that the classic rock lyric ledes have been exclusively reserved for columns involving St. John’s University. It’s part of the unique manner in which I cover my alma mater, one inspired by friend Jerry Beach (whose book on the 2000 World Series was released earlier this month — you can order it here) and his once-frequent chronicling of Hofstra basketball, a program I’ll mention again in this space later on. Today, though, it — much like everything else that has gripped our world for the past five weeks since nearly all organized sports at every level worldwide were swept up in the COVID-19 tsunami — takes on a much different tenor in light of recent events.

Fittingly, I was in Atlantic City — and the opening to this piece is the introduction to the chorus of Bruce Springsteen’s classic ode to the gambling capital of the Northeast — when the 2019-20 season was ripped from our hearts quicker, more forcefully and with lesser regard for any potential aftereffects than when Kris Jenkins stole a national championship from North Carolina four years ago. I guess I’ve matured enough now to where I can mention his name without any expletives, so I’d like I think that counts for something here. Anyhow, hardly anyone could have expected that the apocalypse I and a handful of other writers joked about when Iona’s 13-game Metro Atlantic Athletic Conference tournament win streak was halted by Saint Peter’s on yet another last-second shot — the third time the Peacocks did that to the Gaels in as many attempts this past season — would be a harbinger of just that in the sports world. Only 15 hours later, a women’s quarterfinal between Fairfield and Siena that played out to an empty arena long after the Big East scrapped the rest of its tournament after Creighton and St. John’s went to halftime became the most surreal thing I’ve seen in 13 years in the game, beating out the leak in the Yanitelli Center roof, and one of the more unforgettable — for all the wrong reasons — scenes in almost 34 years alive.

The rest of that day, including the bus trip back to New York, was a complete blur. Then Tim Cluess resigned at Iona, after missing the entire season due to an undisclosed health issue. A week after that, as the NCAA Tournament would normally have played out, we were instead treated to rebroadcasts of some of the timeless March memories. Normally, we would all sign up for that, and while the effort to fill a gaping hole in our world should be commended and appreciated, it unfortunately just does not erase the hypotheticals of what could have ensued this year. All the legends and iconic moments of years past cannot replace the magic that would have been conjured by the likes of Obi Toppin and Dayton threatening to become the first true mid-major national champion in 30 years, of Cassius Winston and Myles Powell perhaps reprising their November showdown on the Final Four stage in Atlanta, of Virginia possibly making a run to a successful national championship defense, or of newcomers to the dance floor such as Hofstra and Rutgers, each of whom I had the privilege of covering on multiple occasions to watch their stories be written and eventually unfolded before capacity crowds. It truly is heartbreaking, but the best part is that both schools — and Hofstra got to celebrate a Colonial Athletic Association championship two days before it all came crashing down, and thus will raise a banner in Hempstead this November — are in great position to validate their success with deeper runs through March next season.

In a four-month stretch that started with mounds of promise in Seton Hall’s explosive opening-night win over Wagner and ended in a sea of helplessness as circumstances beyond everyone’s control blew the whistle, we had our typical roller coaster. There were highs — Seton Hall’s best season since 1992-93, Hofstra and Rutgers seemingly ending their decades-long droughts — and inexplicable lows such as the way it culminated. We bid farewell to a number of people: Myles Powell, Quincy McKnight, Romaro Gill, Mustapha Heron, Desure Buie, Eli Pemberton, E.J. Crawford, Tajuan Agee, Akwasi Yeboah, Tyler Reynolds, and the aforementioned Tim Cluess, just to name a few. We also had to say goodbye to Malik Johnson at Canisius, who had a very poignant answer to what he would miss most about the past four years. 

However, with departure comes rebirth. We get to cover Rick Pitino again. UConn is coming back home to the Big East, too. North Carolina will visit Monmouth eight days before Christmas, a present I and everyone else will look forward to opening eight months from today. We mentioned Hofstra and Rutgers, and St. John’s has an equally bright future in year two under Mike Anderson. So does Siena with Carmen Maciariello and his power of belief. Seton Hall, with Takal Molson and Bryce Aiken inheriting the Pirate blue torch, should be able to reach a fifth straight NCAA Tournament. Long story short, college basketball is like the phoenix: It bursts into flame when it is time for it to die, and then it is reborn from the ashes.

We will be, too. In a world of unknown variables, the best thing you can do is keep your glass half-full. That mentality has kept me going over the years, even more so now than ever before. When I clicked a few buttons on April 17, 2009 that eventually gave this site life, I did so with that same glass-half-full mindset that if my broadcast career failed, I still had a way to stay connected with the industry. Over a decade later, I am incredibly blessed to still have both, and enjoy tangible success with both. Your support means a lot, and it always has. I’m grateful to have a great staff with great people helping me out along the way, people like Jason Guerette and Vinny Simone, who are my tag team partners at Seton Hall and Hofstra, respectively. Vin contributes to MAAC Monday, too, so we can’t forget that. I’m beyond thankful for the dedication of Bob Dea for getting around via mass transit — the same way I do — to share his beautiful art in photographic form. I can’t say enough about all the special contributors I’ve had over the years and continue to take submissions from. The relationships I’ve forged with coaches, administrators, officials, media colleagues, and the next generation of journalists are some of the greatest gifts I can ever receive and redistribute.

Next, there is you, the great congregation of readers that are, more importantly, my fans and friends. You all are the reason why I do what I do, and continue to do what I do. When I have someone come up to me and tell me how much he or she loves this site, it means the world to me. It makes the long-distance road trips to places like Philadelphia and Providence — and all the other, further locales that have been visited over the years — worth it just for one compliment. If I can make somebody smile or laugh, my work here is done.

In years past, I’ve made a public service announcement in this annual display of gratitude by opening the doors to anyone expressing interest in joining the family. I’m going to spin that a little differently this time, because in the current scheme of things, I have something to get off my chest here.

The current societal climate is testing me in every way possible. Those of you who know me well know that I am naturally extroverted, and will interact with people just because I enjoy the ability to share words and exchange opinions, no matter how similar or different they are. That’s another reason why I’ve been so engaging to everyone, and will continue to be. But with literally unprecedented threats dictating temporary changes in tactics, it hasn’t been as easy to adapt. Therefore, if you ever need to talk — and this is not just about college hoops, it can be about anything: Sports in general, pop culture, what pizzeria you should order from next, or just life — I am more than happy to listen. Just reach out to me, however you feel most comfortable, and I will be here for you. We’ll get through this together, because without you, there is no me, and if I can be the second voice of optimism alongside you, we can make the best of the ever-changing variables currently out there now. I can’t give all of you a hug the way I always feel compelled to, but if I can provide a virtual equivalent, we’ll be able to make each other feel better as a result.

I never met Joe Suhoski before his passing two years ago, but he and I frequently interacted on Twitter, and his most prevalent and powerful message on that medium was a three-word edict that carries greater meaning with each passing day:

Love each other.

May the road rise up to meet you. May the wind be always at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face, may the rains fall soft upon your fields, and until we meet again, may God hold you in the palm of His hand.

Thank you for everything, every day over these past eleven years, but also helping to reaffirm the lyrics I’ll close with to tie everything together:

Everything dies, baby, that’s a fact.

But maybe everything that dies someday comes back.

We will, too, and we will come back much sooner rather than later.

Rock on, my friends.

Jaden Daly

Founder and Managing Editor