Dear John,
We have unfinished business, you and I. You were going to power the ‘Cats to a sensational upset victory over Ohio State next winter, and I was going to storm the court. You were going to sacrifice your time, body and a professional salary, and I was going to sacrifice my pasty skin to the stresses of body paint and my vocal chords to the ravages of screaming the fight song for the umpteenth time. You were going to be the player who carried the Wildcats to their first NCAA tournament in your final season in Evanston, and I was going to be the student who talked smack to all his friends at Duke, Syracuse and even lowly Michigan about our basketball prowess. Really, your basketball prowess, but why get into particulars?
All right, you seem to be making decidedly heavier sacrifices in this exchange, but really, doesn’t that sound like something you would be interested in? Trust me, I can understand the appeal of going to the NBA — it’s what every kid dreams of: the final hurdle to overcome, the complete validation of all your hard work. It’s going to happen, I am certain. But why now?
Last year was great, don’t get me wrong. Early on in the season there was nothing you couldn’t do. Remember when you were shooting over 60% from beyond the arc? I do, and so do a bunch of NBA scouts. But then the injuries came into play and the numbers dipped, and you know those same scouts are thinking about that first. Right now the NBA scouts aren’t looking for a guy to gut out an incredibly tough injury, put in gritty performance after gritty performance, and lead your team even as your numbers suffer. They’re looking for a guy to knock down open threes.
And yeah, you can do that, but don’t you want to prove that you’re so much more than that? Shouldn’t your final season at Northwestern be marked by an exclamation point, not a footnote?
There’s a team here that’s got a real shot to do something special, but without you, we’ve got nothing. Think about the avalanche your departure would cause. The Wildcats lose their leader and the fans lose their best reason to keep coming to the games.
So I’ll level with you, we probably need you a lot more than you need us. But then again, you have the chance to become one of the most beloved athletes in Northwestern history if you’re the guy to finally help us make the leap into the NCAA tournament. Sure, there are riches in the NBA (nearly certain lockout notwithstanding), but win next year and you would never have to buy a drink in Evanston for the rest of your life. No other Wildcat would ever get to wear No. 24. Not to mention you can still go pro next year, in a more certain labor climate, coming off a healthy and triumphant senior season.
Wildcat glory is within your reach. Don’t let it slip from your grasp.
Hoping to see you next year,
Max Jones