I don't mean do you remember Christmas time last year. If you're at all like me, you spent Christmas worry about what gifts to get your kids and wife and folks and such. You negotiated travel plans or how much time to spend with your family and how much time the in laws got. Were you supposed to bring wine or a desert to the white elephant exchange?
What I mean, do you remember the feeling of Christmas from when you were 12. That year, the only thing I really wanted for Christmas was this book. It was really well illustrated and I could just stare at it for hours. It wasn't a terribly long book, nor an expensive gift. My mother actually told me I could get anything else I wanted in addition to it, but there was something about that book that just fulfilled my every adolescent desire. I didn't need a skate board or a new bike. I just needed that book, and the anticipation and build up to that particular Christmas has always stuck with me.
Nowadays as a man of means, I don't get that feeling at Christmas time anymore. I love Christmas as much as any red blooded American should: I love the traditions; spending time with my family; my son's excitement when he unwraps a present. But me, I don't get excited anymore. I tend to just go out and buy something when I want it, and as I've grown older and amassed more stuff than my house can manage, my wants have grown fewer and less urgent.
For a long time I'd thought I'd never get that kind of a Christmas feeling again, but today, cheesy as it sounds, and pitiful as it is for a grown man to feel this way, I felt that same twinge my 12 year old self did unwrapping that book.
I've followed Cheick Diallo's journey for the past 3 years. I'd heard the name when Kansas first offered him, but it wasn't until I found a clip of this play that I got excited (it's at 47 seconds in case this doesn't embed correctly):
[
He wasn't a top 10 or even top 15 recruit at that time, but after seeing him get that kind of a hustle play put back, I knew I wanted to see him play in Allen Fieldhouse. So the wait was on. I watched him play on live streams of all star games when I could. I followed him on social media. I'm sure in my low moments, I did things bordering on cyber-stalking. The anticipation. The hope. The dream!!!
I know there will never be another TRob, though a lot of players will get compared to him (heck, I've described Big Cliff as reminding me of TRob physically), but Cheick is the only big man who truly reminds me of him where it counts. This kid is all heart and grit. He plays hard and scraps for everything. I don't know how many hours of basketball I've watched this kid play, but I can say with earnestness, I've never seen him take a play off in 3 years. Who was the last basketball player at any level that you could say that about in a span of 3 weeks, let alone years?
This isn't the happiest day of my life, and not even in the top 10, but this will be a day I remember forever simply for the way it made me feel. This is wish fulfillment at it's best. Rock Cheick, Mr. Diallo, and thank you for becoming a Jayhawk. (And thank you too, my fellow posters, for not ribbing me too hard that I'm out here gushing like a school girl!)