Skip Prosser

As anyone who knows me knows, my ties to Wake Forest are deep and strong. So it was a sad day yesterday as rumors of Skip Prosser's passing were confirmed. He was a credit to the University, and not just because of what he did for the basketball team.

After I graduated from Wake in '86, I left my native Winston-Salem and travelled around quite a bit, but always within ACC Country. During those times, the basketball team was a constant source of pride for me. Win or lose, as long as I had the team to cheer for and follow, I had an ongoing connection to my alma mater. Today, there's nothing quite like watching my son don the black-and-gold tie-dye shirt to catch a game, or to watch little Delaney shake the plastic streamers that make up her Wake Forest pom-pom.

I started getting e-mails from my fellow Deacon fans soon after the rumors started flying yesterday, trying to ascertain what I knew, which at that point wasn't much. With confirmation came sadness. I've seen coaches come and go, and their departure always brings up the question about the future of the team. When a coach dies, though, it's different. It's more personal, even if, as with me, you don't know them beyond the games. You give pause, you mourn, you realize the team will be fine and there's a time to deal with that later.

I lost my father when he was about Skip's age, also to a heart attack. I thought about that a lot last night. How could I not?

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Photo by Journal photojournalist Bruce Chapman.