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- Aug 27, 2011
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So today I drove up to the Boston area for my godfather's memorial service. (He died at 88, having had Alzheimer's for the last ten years. It was time. ) As always, I cried; I chalk it up to being Greek. Afterwards, when asked how I got myself together (which I did periodically throughout the service), I said I just remembered Ketia Swanier dribbling the length of the floor of that awful DePaul game (late in the season: was it the Big East Tournament?). Down by one with seconds to go, she just cut through all defenders and made what turned out to be an easy basket to win the game. Each time I recalled that, I was able to stop crying.
I think my godfather would've smiled.
I think my godfather would've smiled.