On March 19 in Jacksonville, Fla., Georgia State battled Baylor University in the second round of the NCAA Tournament. Georgia State, a member of the Sun Belt Conference, was locked in a close contest with Baylor nearing the end of the game. Watching the game, it was clear that a little mid-March magic might be in order. The storyline was familiar: a heavy underdog sticks around just long enough, nipping at the heels of the behemoth, and musters an opportunity to pull away in the final seconds. With 14 seconds remaining, Georgia State corralled a rebound and bounded down the court, the whole time looking to leading scorer and NBA prospect R.J. Hunter.
Hunter’s untamed curly mop bobbed atop his head as he danced above the three-point line. Announcer Andrew Catalon pleaded with the Pounce to get off the final shot. Without breaking an emotionless expression on his face, Hunter tossed the ball to a teammate, immediately got it back, and fired a heat-seeking missile from well beyond the three-point line. With a distinctive ‘clunk,’ Georgia State was in the lead. Hunter swaggered away, but viewers who were watching closely saw Head Coach Ron Hunter topple from his stool in a mix of jubilation and bewilderment.
Ron Hunter has coached his son, R.J., for his entire collegiate career, but it’s unlikely any moment from R.J.’s Georgia State career will outshine this one. March can be a magical time for the likes of a Georgia State; anyone can win in March, as the saying goes.
Unfortunately, the magic for the Hunters ran out their next game against a solid Xavier squad. R.J. is looking seriously into declaring for the NBA draft, and this loss could very well mark the end of father coaching son.
Of course, some emotion comes with such an event, but the press conference following the Xavier loss held a powerful moment between father and son. After describing how the past week had been one of the best weeks of his life, Hunter began to break down. Through tears and gasps, Hunter talked of what an incredible time it was to be a father in the tournament. Ron, who had his own playing days at Miami of Ohio, reached over to his right and embraced his son. R.J. was stoic, listening to his father’s sobs and staring blankly out at the sea of reporters in front of him. The moment was as tender as any between father and son. The pair was connected through a game. It’s a relationship that I identify with strongly and believe exists all across the world.
My own father was a constant presence at my sporting events throughout my childhood. It wasn’t a real soccer game until my dad’s distinct British accent could be heard calling out encouragement. After games, his arms were the ones I ran to, whether it was to wipe my tears on his jacket or celebrate a seven-year-old’s all-important soccer victory.
To this day, we continue to connect through sports. Even as I grow farther away from my parents, sports is a constant joy for us both. When I returned home for winter break, within five minutes we were involved in a lively conversation about CU basketball. It’s a language we both understand.
The sports world offers a vacation from reality, a world more pure and visceral than the one we inhabit in everyday life.
We never attend church together, but the Coors Event Center on a rowdy winter afternoon might as well be our temple. Our voices exalted into the cacophony of Buff faithful is a spiritual experience, no question. We’re singing hymns of complete devotion.
My father never coached me as a child, but when I saw Ron Hunter’s gigantic mitts wrap around his son’s shoulders, I immediately thought of my father. Why we can’t just sit down at a coffee shop and talk about our lives, I don’t know. But I am grateful that we will always be able to smile and laugh together about the world of sports.
Beyond the obvious entertainment value that March Madness brings into our lives, it certainly holds a deeper meaning. Ron and R.J. Hunter are simply the latest public example of the paternal bond that sports provides.