Last November I went out to see the USF-Montana game. As is my custom whenever the Griz play anywhere within driving distance, I got there early so I could visually appraise a team I follow religiously but seldom get to see play in person, parking myself about six rows up right behind the Montana bench. A few of Mario Dunn's relatives were already there, sitting courtside, and I had a short chat with them before going up to where I wanted to sit.
"How does Mario like Montana?" I asked.
"He loves it!" they all exclaimed, almost in unison.
After I got to my seat, I was so intently watching the warm-ups that I failed to notice I had suddenly become part of an oreo cookie, with two burly African-American men to my left, and a very attractive African-American woman on my right. The two men were in animated conversation, but when I got a chance, I said to the one next to me, "Do you have a connection to Montana?"
"I used to play for the Griz," he said. I was trying desperately to place the face, which did seem vaguely familiar, but I just couldn't come up with a name, so the wise-ass in me asserted itself.
"Were you any good? I asked. "And remember. I don't like false modesty."
"I was okay," he said.
"And you are......?"
"Delvon Anderson."
That sent me into a spontaneous outburst of laughter.
"Oh," I said, "You were more than okay! You were good--very good! I remember that team well." We chatted a bit more, but he really wanted to return to his conversation, so I turned to the woman to my right, since the game still hadn't started.
"Did you go to school in Missoula? I asked.
She laughed.
"No, no. We're just dear friends of Travis DeCuire. We think he's a great guy. This is his first head coaching job, and I wanted to give him support."
"I notice you said 'we', but you seem to be alone. Who is we?"
"My son," she said.
"Is your son here too?"
"No," she laughed. "He's playing basketball."
"What position does he play?"
"Guard."
"And where does he play?"
Then she opened up a bit.
"He played high school ball in Washington, and Travis tried to recruit him to Cal. But when they brought in a new coach, and Travis no longer had a spot, my son signed with Oregon. The funny thing is, he signed just before Travis got the job at Montana. If he'd known about that, my son might have signed with Travis. We just think Travis is a great guy. But my son really likes Oregon.
"Is he good?"
"He thinks he might have a chance to start this year, as a true freshman."
"Well, tell me his name, and I'll follow his progress."
"Ahmaad Rorie."
If so, there may still be an open schollie. For what it is worth, I think I saw on one of the recruiting websites that Rorie had a 3.8 GPA in high school.
