 |
01-23-2026, 09:48 AM
|
#201 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
November 10, 2019
Code:
The autumn of 2019 was as beautiful as anyone in Elmridge could remember. The foliage was brilliant; the weather was crisp and invigorating. Ground had been broken for the first phase of The Pavilion Project, and the framework of the Performance Center had gone up already. Fans said, "Looks like a practice building," because that's exactly what it was. Fall training took place in the lovely old gym, as always. And it went well. Toby's team would return only two starters from last season. Gone were senior Walter Lozano and two-and-through stars Mindaugas Kairys and Colton Reddick. The latter two were already important players on their pro teams, while Lozano had recently signed with a team in Italy. One of the returners was big man Darius Kincaid. Not content with leading the conference in rebounding as a freshman, Big D came to campus with a blue-collar attitude that stars sometimes lacked. He pursued every loose ball as if it were the most precious thing in the world. "If there's a better rebounder in the country, I don't know who he is," assistant Mark Graham stated. Darius would play center, with center Liam Whitworth starting at the four. Liam was a St. Michael's "lifer" who started at St. Aloysius as a four-year-old, continued at the College School, and was about to get his St. Michael's degree. Liam had developed into an all-purpose big man, a strong defender with a sneaky-good offensive game. Patience had paid off for Ethan Rosenzweig, too. Now a junior, Ethan would open the season as a starter on the wing. His shooting ability had never been questioned; now he was playing the kind of defense that Toby required of his wings. Playing alongside him on the perimeter would be another senior, Aaron Voelker. Aaron had suffered through a season-long shooting slump in 2018/19, but Saints Nation remembered how he'd helped fire the Saints to the national championship his freshman year. His head coach marveled at his shooting ability. "He's the real deal," Toby said. "I remember when people wondered if Aaron was a better shooter than I am. Nobody wonders now. He's better on his worst days than I was on my best." Both point guards from last year's team were still available. Jamari Stokes and Reese Malloy had split the position evenly the year before, starting the same number of games and playing almost exactly the same number of minutes. Both guards were top-tier ballhandlers and passers, and both played lock-down defense. But this year, sophomore Jamari was given the starting role. Reese, a junior, had no problem with this decision. "I talked to Coach about it myself," he admitted. "Jamari takes his game to another level when he starts. I get it. He's started for every team he's ever played for. I'm comfortable coming off the bench. I can watch what's going on, watch how the other team defends, what they're trying to do offensively. Then I come into the game with a plan." Perhaps the thought that Jamari would almost certainly enter the draft at the end of the year affected Reese's mindset. The position would be his to lose if he came back for his senior season. Sophomore Justin Manning would be the first big man off the bench. Rebounding and defense were his strong suits. Highly-touted freshman wing Drew Joyce would inherit the Voelker role, providing instant offense. Fellow freshmen Luke O'Connor, Tyler Grant, and Sal Lavin were a little less ready for college ball, and would compete for time in the rotation. There was some thought of redshirting O'Connor and/or Grant. Also on the roster was transfer Felix Sauter. The 6'8" forward from Indiana spent a year at Xavier without seeing the court. A three-star recruit coming out of high school, Felix brought with him a talent for rebounding, shot blocking, defense, and enough offense to make opponents guard him. He projected as a valuable squad player for the Saints. The Saints opened the season as the nation's top-ranked team, the unanimous choice in the polls. "I think we could be that good," coach Olen Hargrove admitted. "It's nice to be ranked now, but what truly matters is what happens in March." Last March, the Saints went home earlier than usual, failing to advance from the tournament's first weekend. This year's team was determined to write a different ending. Last edited by MoonlightGraham : 01-23-2026 at 10:17 AM. |
|
|
|
01-27-2026, 01:45 PM
|
#202 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
December 1, 2019
Toby Whittaker preferred to complete the Saints' recruiting season before the calendar turned to the new year. That allowed him and his staff to concentrate fully on the Mid-Atlantic conference season, a difficult challenge for any coaching team. This year, the Saints locked up their three-man Class of 2020 before some people recovered from their Thanksgiving dinner indulgences. The most visible star in the group was Malcolm Rivers, a high-profile recruit from Archbishop Stepinac High School in White Plains, New York. Malcolm was a 6'4" wing with a true commitment to playing defense and a well-outfitted offensive toolkit. Malcolm profiled better as a small forward in Toby's system, since he wasn't truly comfortable as a secondary ballhandler and was able to successfully defend all but the most physically dominant big men. Malcolm was the #9 player in his class nationally and the top player at his position. He was also a very good student. He fit the definition of a Saint to a tee. ***
The program's second recruit took a winding road to Elmridge. Sean Callahan was the fourth great-grandson of Thomas Edward Callahan, St. Michael's founding benefactor. Thomas the Founder's grandson, Thomas III, was a Saint from the Class of 1915, and for the next three generations, at least one descendant of the Founder attended St. Michael's. Mark Callahan graduated with the Class of 1993. He walked on to the St. Michael's basketball team, and he was a senior teammate of freshman Toby Whittaker. After graduation, he took a job in Hartford, married his St. Michael's sweetheart, and raised a family. Mark's son Sean was a much better player than his father had been. A 6'9" forward at Wethersfield High School, Sean was a consensus four-star recruit with a polished all-around game. "We would have recruited a player like that even if his dad hadn't been my teammate," Toby recalled. He's a lot like Liam Whitworth, maybe an even better shooter." Sean, however, wasn't immediately interested in playing for the Saints. “For me, Connecticut was home,” Sean said. “I grew up here, my family’s here, and UConn was something I could picture myself at from the time I was a kid. St. Michael’s is family history and legacy, and that’s powerful—but I wanted something familiar and close to home.” Sean meant what he said about wanting space and familiarity. But during the first few weeks of his senior year, a few things started to pull him back toward St. Michael’s in a way he didn’t expect. The biggest thing was time. The more he matured, the less the “pressure” of the Callahan name felt like a burden and the more it started to feel like a responsibility he actually wanted. By the time he took his official visit to Elmridge, he said it had flipped in his head: “I realized I wasn’t trying to run from the legacy anymore. I was kind of running toward it.” He spent a weekend around the program — sitting in on film sessions, talking with players, walking the old halls — and he saw that St. Michael’s wasn’t just history. It was a living thing. He connected especially with the current players, who treated him like Sean, not “the founder’s great-whatever.” Then there was Toby. Their conversation ended up being the turning point. Toby didn’t pitch him on banners or tradition. He pitched him on development. “Coach Whittaker told me, ‘You don’t have to be a symbol here. You just have to be a worker.’ That stuck with me.” And finally, there were his parents. Mark Callahan never pushed him either way, but Sean admitted later that seeing how much the program still meant to his father, without it being overbearing, softened him. “He never told me I had to go there. But I could tell it would mean something to him if I chose it for myself.” Sean's mom played a role that was perhaps even more important. Kate O'Rourke Callahan, Class of ’94, had been one of those alumni who never really drifted away. She served on advisory committees and helped organize regional alumni events in New England. Kate was the biggest reason why she and Mark brought Sean to Elmridge more times than he could remember when he was growing up — not to talk basketball, just for reunions, Mass, and long weekends that felt more like family gatherings than official school functions. What made Kate influential wasn’t pressure. It was perspective. She was careful not to sell St. Michael’s as a destiny. In fact, early on, she was the one reminding Sean that it was okay to want his own place. “You don’t owe anyone anything,” she told him more than once. “Not me, not your dad, not the school.” But as Sean’s recruitment progressed, Kate started asking different questions — not where he wanted to go, but who he wanted to be. She pushed him to think beyond geography and rankings: Would he be challenged academically? Would the coaches care about him when basketball was hard? Would he still feel connected there at 40? She also gave him something unique and special: emotional memory. On his official visit, she walked him past places that weren’t featured prominently on the tour — the chapel in her first-year dorm where she’d gone when she was overwhelmed as a student, the quiet corner of the library where she’d written papers late at night, the old gym hallway where she’d watched his dad, Toby, and their teammates play. None of it was framed as nostalgia. It was framed as continuity. “I didn’t tell him to choose St. Michael’s,” Kate said later. “I just wanted him to see that it wasn’t a museum. It was a place where people grow up.” Sean later admitted that hearing his mom talk about the school as a place that formed her — not just a place she attended — shifted something. “It made me realize this wasn’t about living up to a name,” he said. “It was about joining a story.” In the end, Kate’s role was less recruiter and more anchor. She helped Sean feel steady enough to choose St. Michael’s not out of obligation, but out of confidence — and that made all the difference. By the end of his recruitment, it wasn’t about Connecticut vs. St. Michael’s anymore. It was about fit. “I felt like I’d grown into the kind of person who could handle what that place represents,” Sean said. “And I felt like St. Michael’s was the place that would make me the player I wanted to become.” So instead of it being a reversal, it felt more like a full circle. ***
The third and final recruit for the Saints' Class of 2024 was the least conventional member of his class. There were about 150 people living in the village of Cairnryan, Scotland. One of them was Dudley Flower, who happened to be the best basketball player his age in the United Kingdom. When Dudley was 15, he moved to London, living with a host family while he attended Barking Abbey Basketball Academy. Far from a sports factory, Barking Abbey maintained a full academic program, and Dudley took his academics seriously. He also took his basketball seriously. Now 6'3" with an athlete's frame, Dudley represented the United Kingdom at the U16 and U18 levels. He came into the picture for many American college programs at the FIBA Europe U18 Championships, but St. Michael's had been following him for a while already. The indefatigable Cyril Caulfield noticed Dudley first. He knew a coach in Scotland, Hamish Campbell, who had sent players to American colleges before. Campbell sent Coach Caulfield Dudley's tapes: not carefully-edited mixtapes, but full game films from Barking Abbey's league play and from FIBA events. Cyril could see how Dudley moved without the ball, how he defended bigger wings, how he fit within a team's structure. Then there was Dudley's shot. It was clean, repeatable, and deadly from 25 feet in. He averaged a silly 32 PPG in league play, but he scored nearly 20 a game for his country. That ought to translate to success in NCAA play. Dudley was an excellent fit for St. Michael's in the classroom, too. At sixteen, Dudley scored six 9s and four 8s on his GSCE tests. He was pursuing A-levels in Mathematics, Physics, English Literature, and History, and was expecting all A* or A grades. He was one of the top three students in his year. On his official visit, Dudley joined some of the Saints players for a casual shoot-around. His mechanics and his range impressed the older players. "He's like a young version of AV," Jamari Stokes pointed out, comparing Dudley to elite marksman Aaron Voelker. Toby offered Dudley a scholarship on his visit. Tulane, Memphis, and Temple followed suit, but Dudley had already made up his mind. On December 1, he made it official. Three players, three stories...one class. |
|
|
|
|
01-28-2026, 01:33 PM
|
#203 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
College Choices
Nora Whittaker '20 St. Michael's College School Malcolm Rivers, Sean Callahan, and Dudley Flower were not the members of the Class of 2020 whose fates mattered most to Toby Whittaker. Toby and Claire's older daughter, Nora, was choosing her future college, too. If recruiting stars were awarded to academic standouts, Nora would have earned at least four. Her weighted GPA topped 4.2, after her AP and Honors courses were figured in. She scored 1480 on her SAT: 770 writing, 710 math. Her important extracurriculars--cross country, track, the literary magazine, the Chorale--weren't flashy, but they were sincere. Nora decided to apply to eight schools. She entered the Restrictive Early Action pool at Notre Dame, which meant she couldn't apply to a binding early decision program at any other university. Georgetown offered Early Decision that was not binding, so she took that option. Nora put in applications for regular admission at six more schools: Williams, Amherst, Villanova, Swarthmore, Brown, and St. Michael's. ***
December 15 was the date on which both Notre Dame and Georgetown announced their Early Action admission decisions. That date fell on Sunday this year, so the news was delayed for a day. Monday morning dawned crisp and bright. Nora tried to concentrate in class, but her mind wouldn't stop wandering. Her big news wouldn't arrive until that evening. Nothing that happens today is a final ending, she told herself. Even if Notre Dame and Georgetown reject me outright, I still have six more chances. Everything Nora said to herself was true, but it only relaxed her so much. Nora decided she wanted her whole family near her when she received her news. She sat at the kitchen island with her laptop open, one sibling on each side of her. Claire perched on a stool a few feet away, with Toby standing behind her. Promptly at 6:00, Claire received an email from Georgetown, informing her that her admission portal had been updated. She clicked on the link. For a second, nothing happened. Then the screen refreshed. At the top of the page, in calm navy lettering, was a single word: Congratulations! Nora stared at it. Just stared. “Oh,” she said. It came out small, surprised. “Oh.” Grace leaned forward. “Is that—?” “I think—” Nora swallowed. “I think I got in.” Claire was on her feet instantly, one hand flying to her mouth, the other already reaching for Nora. Toby let out a sharp laugh—half disbelief, half relief—and said, “Hey,” like he needed to anchor himself to the moment. Eli whooped, loud and unfiltered. “You got into Georgetown?!” Grace shouted, already bouncing off the stool. Nora scrolled, hands shaking now. The letter was warm, formal, unmistakable. We are pleased to offer you admission… She laughed, suddenly, the sound breaking free of her chest. “I got in,” she said again, louder this time. “I really got in.” Claire hugged her, tight and fierce. “I’m so proud of you,” she said into Nora’s hair. “So proud.” Toby stepped forward and pulled them both in, one arm around each of them, his voice steady but thick. “You earned that,” he said. “Every bit of it.” Eli grabbed the laptop long enough to read the word himself, just to be sure. “You think?" he teased his big sister. "It literally says congratulations,” he announced. “In bold.” She closed the laptop gently, like it might still be fragile, and laughed again. “There’s another one,” she said, breathless. “Notre Dame.” Toby raised an eyebrow, smiling now. “All right,” he said. “One thing at a time.” And for the first time all day, Nora felt like time was finally moving at the right speed. ***
"What's your first choice?" Like many high school seniors, Nora was asked that question on a fairly regular basis. Most often, Nora answered "Probably Notre Dame." She had loved her visit there last summer. Something about the campus spoke to her. Beyond that, the moral seriousness of the place mattered to her. She’d grown up around St. Michael’s, where faith wasn’t performative or rigid but woven into daily life. Notre Dame felt familiar in that way—not because it was identical, but because it treated belief, service, and reflection as part of an educated life. Even if Nora didn't see herself as loudly religious, she liked that the questions she cares about weren’t sidelined. There was also a quieter reason she didn't say out loud at first: distance with connection. Notre Dame was far enough from home that she could define herself apart from her father's lengthy shadow, but close enough—culturally and philosophically—that she wouldn't feel unmoored. It offered independence without rupture. The oven clock flipped to 6:42 with a soft click. 18:42. The year of Notre Dame's founding, and the minute its admission decisions were released. Nora noticed it before anyone else did. She was sitting at the kitchen table now, laptop closed, phone face-down beside it like it might vibrate if she looked at it too hard. Georgetown still hung in the air—text messages coming in waves, Grace buzzing around upstairs, Eli replaying the moment for the fourth time—but this felt different. Heavier. Quieter. “There it is,” Nora said, almost to herself. Toby glanced at the clock. “That’s the time?” She nodded. Claire slid back into the chair across from her, folding her hands together. “Same rules,” she said softly. “Your pace.” Nora opened the laptop. This time there was no hesitation. She typed in her login, muscle memory taking over, and waited. The Notre Dame portal loaded more slowly than Georgetown’s had. A white screen. A blue header. A pause that stretched just long enough to make her heart thud once, hard. Then the message appeared. Congratulations, Nora. She inhaled sharply, like she’d been caught off guard by a wave. “Oh,” she whispered. Toby leaned in without meaning to. “What does it say?” Nora read, eyes moving fast now, the words stacking up in her mind—Restrictive Early Action… pleased to offer you admission… academic excellence… community… She pressed a hand to her chest. “I got in,” she said, disbelief turning into something bright and almost dizzy. “I got into Notre Dame.” For a beat, no one spoke. Then Claire let out a sound that was half laugh, half sob and reached for her again. “Nora,” she said, shaking her head. “Oh my goodness.” Toby closed his eyes for a second, just a second, then opened them and smiled—wide, unguarded, proud. “That’s… wow,” he said. “That’s huge.” Eli shook his fist in support. “Two for two,” he said reverently, like he was announcing a miracle. Grace came skidding back into the room, phone in hand. “Did it happen? Did it—” She saw Nora’s face and froze. “No way.” Nora nodded, laughing now, tears slipping out anyway. “Way.” Grace screamed and tackled her from the side, nearly knocking the chair back. “YOU GOT INTO NOTRE DAME.” The kitchen filled up again—voices overlapping, Claire brushing tears off her cheeks, Toby looking over his daughter's shoulder at her screen because he wanted to read it too. Outside, the cold pressed against the windows, but inside everything felt warm and loud and unreal. Nora leaned back, letting it wash over her. Georgetown. Notre Dame. Two doors open. Two futures possible. And for the first time, she felt the weight of choice—not heavy, exactly. Just real. |
|
|
|
|
01-30-2026, 07:49 AM
|
#204 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
January 5, 2020
Code:
Toby didn’t dodge it, and he didn’t dress it up. He stood at the podium, hands folded, voice calm but edged with disappointment—the kind that comes from knowing exactly where the game slipped. “You don’t give good teams extra possessions and expect to get away with it,” he said. “We were up twenty because we were sharp, connected, and disciplined. And then we stopped doing the little things that built that lead.” He pointed first—and repeatedly—to the turnovers. “Twenty-four turnovers is not who we are. That’s impatience. That’s trying to skip steps. Charlotte didn’t panic, and we helped them back into the game. "We committed too many fouls. If you let an opponent shoot 35 free throws, you're giving them too many easy points. And we had to get really creative with our rotation, because we had four guys foul out. That's not what we typically do." Whittaker was quick to give Charlotte credit, especially Brent Levi’s second half. “Levi was terrific. He made hard shots, he punished mistakes, and he fed off momentum. That’s what elite scorers do when you let them get comfortable.” But Toby didn’t frame the loss as a collapse—more as a lesson. “This group is young in spots. We played freshmen real minutes tonight, and they’re going to be very good players for us. But nights like this are tuition. You either pay it now or you pay it later, and I’d rather pay it in December.” Asked whether losing after leading by twenty was humbling, Toby nodded once. “It should be. Being the No. 1 team means everyone’s measuring themselves against you for forty minutes. We measured ourselves for about thirty. That’s not enough.” He ended with something that sounded less like frustration and more like resolve. “We didn’t lose our identity tonight—but we forgot to protect it. That’s on me to make sure we don’t forget again.” Then he thanked the media, stepped away, and went looking for his locker room. Code:
Around Elmridge, the conversation was calmer than it might have been elsewhere—less amazement, more assessment. This wasn’t a town discovering success for the first time. Since Toby Whittaker returned to his alma mater to coach in 2007, winning had become the baseline. Still, a 12–1 non-conference run drew thoughtful appreciation, not indifference. On campus, the confidence was seasoned. Dr. Helen Carroway, a history professor and longtime season-ticket holder, put it in perspective: “We’ve been nationally relevant for over a decade now. That’s the story. This team fits into that lineage nicely—deep, disciplined, and clearly well-coached. Nothing about this feels accidental.” Brother Thomas Keegan, from the theology department, nodded toward continuity: “The impressive thing isn’t the record. It’s that the standards haven’t slipped. Different players, same habits. That doesn’t happen without real leadership.” Students spoke with the casual certainty of people who expect January and March to matter. Matt Hollis, a junior in a familiar Saints sweatshirt, shrugged when asked about the Charlotte loss: “Road game, top-ten opponent, early January. That’s normal. We’ve seen this movie before. You learn from it and keep moving.” Off campus, the tone was affectionate rather than breathless. At O’Rourke’s Market, Mary O’Rourke laughed when someone mentioned the start: “This is just what they do now. Twelve wins doesn’t shock anyone. But I’ll say this—this group’s fun. That Villanova game reminded me why I still plan my evenings around tipoff.” Frank Dellabarca, a retired electrician who hasn’t missed a home game in years, leaned back on his usual stool: “I remember when a .500 season felt like progress. Now we argue about seeding. That’s a good problem. This team’s right where it should be.” At The Elm Street Diner, the regulars dissected lineups and depth instead of records. Linda Perez, between sips of coffee, summed it up: “They don’t panic. Even in that Charlotte game, you could see it—they knew who they were. That’s a Whittaker team.” Outside The Pavilion, an older alumnus paused, hands in his coat pockets, as if measuring time more than wins. “This isn’t the start of something,” he said. “It’s the continuation. And the fact that it still feels this good after all these years—that’s the real achievement.” In Elmridge, the Saints’ non-conference success wasn’t treated as a surprise. It was treated as confirmation—another steady chapter in a long, well-established run. |
|
|
|
|
01-30-2026, 08:34 AM
|
#205 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
February 1, 2020
The loss at Charlotte seemed to cause the Saints to break their stride. They began their Mid-Atlantic season at St. Bonaventure and lost by an almost identical 88-81 score. A player Toby had recruited heavily, senior wing Clinton Rucker, torched the Saints for 39 points. This was not an isolated moment of greatness for Clinton, who had scored over 1500 points for the Bonnies and made the All-Mid-American first team twice. They went to Pitt, and lost. And, then, five nights later, a raucous crowd at the Liacouras Center roared with pleasure as their #3 Temple Owls raced to a 41-21 lead over the Saints. Toby's charges clawed their way back into the game, but he earned a rare technical foul when he protested a call that awarded a fifth foul to Aaron Voelker. Dan Kessler called the moment on the Saints Radio Network, voice steady but buzzing with that uh-oh energy: “And there’s the whistle… they’re calling it on Voelker— that’s five. Aaron Voelker is done, and listen to this building.” Crowd swells, boos mixing with cheers. “Toby Whittaker is out on the floor now, and folks, you almost never see this from him. He’s talking calmly, but he’s right in the official’s ear— palms down, trying to make his point.” A beat. Another whistle cuts through. “Oh! Technical foul has been assessed to Whittaker.” Ray DiPietro jumps in: “Dan, he didn’t explode, but he didn’t let it go either. That’s about as far as Toby Whittaker ever goes.” Back to Kessler, crowd roaring: “And that tells you everything. When that guy gets a T, he believes he’s protecting his team. Two shots and the ball now for Temple, and what was already a tough night for St. Michael’s just got steeper.” Brief pause as Bradley Harris steps to the line. “You can see Whittaker on the sideline now — arms folded, jaw set. Message delivered, but the price is real.” Classic Kessler close: “And on a call that sends Voelker to the bench, Temple gets a gift at the stripe… and a moment that may define this one.” The Temple student section pounced. The instant the ref snapped his wrist and pointed at Whittaker, the maroon-clad fans behind the Saints’ bench went feral — coordinated, ruthless, and very Philly-adjacent in spirit. First came the eruption: hands in the air, bodies bouncing, that sharp, mocking roar that says we’ve got you now. Then it locked into a chant — slow at first, dripping with sarcasm: "Sit-down, To-by"...Clap. Clap. Clap-clap-clap. As Harris stepped to the line, the chant grew louder: “SIT. DOWN. TO–BY.” And when the first free throw dropped? They bowed. Literally bowed. Deep, exaggerated bows toward Whittaker, who didn’t even look up — arms crossed, staring through the scorer’s table like he was already diagramming the next possession in his head. Ray DiPietro, sotto voce on the broadcast: “They know exactly what they’re doing, Dan.” And Kessler, a half-smile in his voice: “That’s a student section that reads the scouting report.” It was the kind of moment Temple students talked about for years — the night they got Toby Whittaker to crack, even just a little. The final score: Temple 76, St. Michael's 62. For the first time in ages--perhaps ever--Toby's Saints had a losing record this far into conference play. The Saints went back to work. Practices were crisper, more focused. The players responded with two wins, and even though one was earned by a single point at Penn State, it was still a victory. Then came the Duquesne game in Pittsburgh. Code:
Voelker didn’t puff his chest at all afterward. He showed up to the media room still breathing hard, box score on the table in front of him, and immediately redirected the spotlight. Here’s what he said: “Honestly, that score looks like one guy went off, but that’s not how it felt on the floor.” He tapped the stat sheet where Whitworth’s rebounds were circled by a reporter. “Liam kept possessions alive. Jamari had thirteen assists. Reese had six. That's 19 assists from our point guards. That's crazy. When you get looks that clean, your job is to shoot with confidence. Tonight they went in.” When someone reminded him that he'd scored 45 points — a career night, the second highest total in Saints history — Voelker shrugged. “I’ve had games where I played better and scored half that. This was just one of those nights where the ball kept finding me in rhythm.” Then, unprompted, he brought up Temple — still fresh. “Last week hurt. I didn’t finish that game, and that stays with you. So yeah, I was aggressive early. But not angry. Focused.” Asked what it means heading into the stretch run: “It means we’re dangerous when we’re connected. This isn’t about me carrying anything. This is about us being hard to guard when we play the right way.” He delivered his final line with a half-smile: “Enjoy it tonight. Tomorrow it’s back to work.” You could tell — even after a 45-piece — he was already on to the next one. Last edited by MoonlightGraham : 03-23-2026 at 01:30 PM. |
|
|
|
|
01-31-2026, 03:21 PM
|
#206 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
Code:
The Saints shot horribly in the rematch against St. Bonaventure, but ground out a 59-54 victory on the strength of relentless defense. Clinton Rucker was held to only nine points. "We have to be able to win ugly, too," assistant Mark Graham pointed out. A victory in a different style was achieved at La Salle, when seven Saints scored in double figures in a 111-87 triumph. Jamari Stokes (11) and Reese Malloy (9) combined for 20 assists as the Saints broke a school record with a total of 33. Another former Saints recruit, Tate Crenshaw, poured in 29 points for the Explorers. A 75-72 loss to Temple at The Pavilion on February 22 eliminated the Saints from the Mid-Atlantic Conference championship race, and with two losses to the Owls, Toby's team could finish no better than third. "We still have lots to play for," Aaron Voelker pointed out. "There are things we can sharpen between now and tournament time. Yeah, it hurts not to win the league, but we'll channel that disappointment into the rest of the season." Aaron's 43 points against Penn State a week later supported his comments perfectly. So did an emphatic performance against Duquesne on Senior Night, when he and his classmate, Liam Whitworth, combined for 38 points. *** Assistant coach Olen Hargrove wrote two words on the whiteboard in the Saints' locker room before their opening game in the Mid-Atlantic Conference tournament. NINE GAMES He pointed to the words, scrawled in black marker. "Men, that's how many games you might still have to play together. That's almost a fourth of a season. Or, it might be as few as two more. "Which outcome would you prefer?" Coach Hargrove had seen a lot of teams in his long career, and he liked this one. "They've already experienced the full range of emotions, before tournament play begins. They've won big games and lost them. They know their roles, and they're comfortable with them. That's huge." Voelker was the team's quiet leader, a stabilizing force. Fellow senior Whitworth had adopted a blue-collar attitude that few five-star recruits ever displayed; he set thudding screens and ripped down rebounds in practice with vigor. Justin Manning was even more of a junkyard dog, taking pride in being the first one on the floor at practice and the last one out. Justin took the development of Darius Kincaid as a personal mission. "Darius is a really easy-going guy," Justin said. "He likes to joke around and he's always smiling. But he's going to be in the [professional] league next year, and I want to make sure he develops a little bit of an edge before he gets there. I'm never going to be a pro, but I want Darius to take a little bit of me with him." Darius's friend, Jamari Stokes, was the team's engine. "He never stops chirping and clapping," Voelker pointed out. "We don't tell him to hush because he puts the same effort into everything he does on the floor." Jamari smiled at this characterization. "Yeah, that's me," he agreed. "But I learned that from Reese." Malloy, too, was an energetic player who did everything fast. Their vibe contrasted sharply with that of Ethan Rosenzweig, the team's quietest man. Ethan was a thoughtful, analytical player, the Saint most likely to ask questions of the coaching staff after practice. He was much happier now that he had a defined role, and it was a major one--second scorer behind AV--and he was a surprisingly tenacious rebounder. The younger guys all contributed, too. It was admittedly hard for Drew Joyce to accept a role as the team's eighth man, but a few words from Ethan, who had been in Drew's shoes as recently as last year, helped him understand the value of patience. Luke O'Connor, Tyler Grant, Sal Lavin, and redshirt Felix Sauter did most of their good work at practice; in Felix's case, all of it. Sal was the only player who ever acted like he didn't want to be there. Toby hoped that was only a result of his pride. *** Voelker scored 26 and Rosenzweig 19 in an easy victory over Pitt in the first round of the conference tourney. La Salle upset Temple, so the Saints next faced the 7-seed Explorers and Tate Crenshaw. Tate scored the final 16 points of the nearly 2500 he scored for the Explorers, but it wasn't enough; double-doubles from buddies Stokes and Kincaid and 24 more points from fellow Wisconsinite Voelker powered a 94-67 win for the Saints. That set up another date with St. Bonaventure for the tournament championship. Aaron Voelker and Clinton Rucker played like seniors who wanted to end their Mid-Atlantic Conference careers as champions. Aaron and Clinton had never met before they became conference opponents, but the two young men had become friendly competitors. "Clinton is a good guy," Aaron said. "We'll text back and forth during the season." Clinton won the individual scoring contest that night, 28-27, but it was Aaron who lifted the trophy with his teammates; the Saints won an exciting game, 99-87. "That was a championship game played like a championship game," Toby said in his presser, pushing his hair back from his forehead. He had special praise for his seniors. "Aaron Voelker and Liam Whitworth reminded us why you always want to have guys on your team who will stay four years. They carried us through some tough moments. Clinton Rucker does the same thing for St. Bonaventure. Tate Crenshaw at La Salle. Sylvester Gowen at Temple. Dean Dean at Pitt. All these players help sustain their teams' cultures. I love that." Code:
The first three of Coach Hargrove's nine games were in the books. Would there be six more? |
|
|
|
|
02-01-2026, 11:55 AM
|
#207 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
What seemed at the time to be a casual conversation at a Christmas dinner took on greater importance for Toby and his parents in the spring of 2020.
David and Lorraine Whittaker had always supported their oldest son's career in ways that didn't demand attention. For one thing, they had careers of their own; David was a successful civil engineer, specializing in municipal planning, and Lorraine moved from the classroom to the admission office at St. Stephens & St. Agnes, serving for over two decades as Director of Middle School Admission. They were both fans, in their own ways. They never missed televised games, and their visits to Elmridge during the season were often planned around especially meaningful matchups. David and Lorraine were now in their very early seventies, and both retired in the spring of 2018. That Christmas, David remarked to his son that they could now travel anywhere they wanted, anytime they wanted. "You've been to the Final Four, what? Five times, now?" he asked. Toby paused a moment. "That's right." "And we've never been," David teased. Lorraine nodded. "We should fix that. If you go this year, so will we." "Oh, that's a wonderful idea," Claire added. Then her face brightened even more. "I ought to see if Mom and Dad want to go, too!" James Dempsey had always liked basketball. He was a very good high school player, with enough game to play on a good club team at Holy Cross. When Claire began to date Toby, he began to follow his future son-in-law's career more closely. Now James was retired from a very successful career as the chief financial officer for a continuing care retirement community, and he had even more time to pay attention to the Saints. Claire's mom, Ellen, owned a small craft shop, which she sold to a former colleague four years ago. While Ellen didn't read box scores like James did, she enjoyed the way Claire connected with the players and their families. From that conversation, a plan for a reunion of Whittakers and Dempseys at the Final Four in Indianapolis was hatched. Then the Rice Owls illustrated what Robert Burns said about the best-laid plans. A week later, Toby posted to the extended family's group chat: If we ever reach another one, you'll all be there. Promise. That promise would be a complex one to manage. Toby was the oldest of three; his sister was engaged and his brother Drew was married and the father of two. Claire had three younger siblings; her brother Michael and his wife had three kids, and her other siblings were coupled. *** A year later, the Saints stood as the top seed in the Midwest Region. They traveled first to St. Louis, where they defeated Winthrop and Oklahoma in a manner befitting a one-seed: controlled, balanced, decisive. Then, in a fun bit of irony, Toby and his team got their trip to Indianapolis, where they faced UTEP in the Sweet Sixteen. The Miners were a tough, talented team, whose Leader had that for a surname. Gerry Leader was a former five-star recruit with a diverse set of skills. Leader's team slowed the pace of the game and scrapped hard, and took a 29-24 lead into the halftime break. Then, after the Saints pulled ahead, Leader nailed a long three-pointer to send the game into overtime. What happened next became one of the most controversial moments of the tournament. With eleven seconds left and the score tied at 69, Saints guard Reese Malloy was pressed as he dribbled near the sideline. Reese's foot came down very near--or perhaps across--the line, but an official standing nearby did not blow his whistle. As the Miners bench erupted, the Saints maintained possession, and the ball reached the hands of Ethan Rosenzweig. Ethan had attempted five three-pointers that night, and had missed them all. He didn't miss this one. With a second left on the clock, Ethan's 28-footer nestled into the net. Saints 72, Miners 69. The regional final against Saint Louis seemed like an afterthought. The Saints took an early lead and never looked back, rolling to a 77-56 victory. Aaron Voelker scored 23 points. Darius Kincaid, Liam Whitworth, and Rosenzweig grabbed exactly 11 rebounds each. Malloy and Jamari Stokes combined for exactly 11 assists. Code:
And the Whittaker-Dempsey traveling party made its final arrangements for their trip to Atlanta. The roster numbered 23: Claire Dempsey Whittaker; Nora, Grace, and Eli Dave and Lorraine Whittaker Drew and Rebecca Whittaker; Max and Lila Maggie Whittaker and fiancé Ethan Chen Jim and Ellen Dempsey Michael and Lauren Dempsey; Seamus, Bridget, and Finn Kate Dempsey and husband Dan O'Reilly Patrick Dempsey and partner Sophia Malone Last edited by MoonlightGraham : 02-17-2026 at 10:42 AM. |
|
|
|
|
02-01-2026, 01:26 PM
|
#208 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
April 1, 2020
News for Nora When the Saints returned home from Indianapolis, Toby switched to Dad mode almost immediately. Nora was about to learn the status of the seven college applications she still had pending. Notre Dame and Georgetown had accepted her in December, so regardless of what happened this week, Nora had at least two paths forward with which she was pleased. She wasn't sure which of the two universities she would choose. Eli pointed out that "she's worn her Notre Dame hoodie two more times when they get to wear college shirts to school on Fridays." So Toby was home with the family today, when Nora's news arrived. Villanova was the first to announce, and they accepted her. Next came Amherst, and Nora was now "two for two," as Eli put it. She was especially delighted about the Amherst news, because Amherst accepted about one of every eight students who applied. Brown delivered her first less-than-completely-positive news. "Brown wait-listed me," Nora said, very simply, when the decision flashed on her laptop screen. "Their loss," Grace replied. All the Whittakers were much less likely to be hurt badly by news like this, now that Nora had four desirable options. Next came Swarthmore. Even more selective than Amherst, the local college told Nora "yes." She responded to this acceptance more emotionally than any of the others she'd received that day, looking up at the ceiling with eyes that were glassy with tears. Then came Bryn Mawr, the only women's college to which Nora applied. They gave her a positive reply, too. The momentum train slowed a bit when Williams revealed they'd placed Nora on their wait list. Claire shook her head. "They probably conspired with Amherst," she said with a wry grin. "They lost out there," Grace said, reaching out to ruffle her sister's hair. The last school to release its decision was, rather ironically, St. Michael's. Although it was less selective than her other choices, Nora would never dare think of St. Michael's as her "safety school." "It's my 'heart school,'" she would say. "I'm always going to be connected to St. Michael's, because it's so much a part of my family's story. If I go there like Mom and Dad and Uncle Drew did, I'll be adding my chapter to that story. I like that idea." So Nora smiled sweetly when she saw "Congratulations, Nora!" appear on her laptop beneath the St. Michael's college seal. She stood up from the stool where she'd been sitting and was enveloped into a warm, loving family hug. Toby leaned down and kissed his daughter's head. "We are all so proud of you," Claire whispered, wiping tears from her eyes. "You worked hard," Toby added. "Every school that accepted you knew what they were getting." Nora nodded, wiping her own tears. She looked around the kitchen at her parents and siblings, a small, content smile spreading across her face. “Okay. This is overwhelming… but good overwhelming.” Toby just nodded quietly, knowing that someday soon, his daughter would walk into her own story, carrying the same steady, thoughtful sense of purpose he had always admired. |
|
|
|
|
02-01-2026, 02:42 PM
|
#209 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
The Final Four
Twenty-three Whittakers, Dempseys, and their loved ones arrived in Atlanta on the Friday evening before Saturday night's game. They settled into their rooms at the Georgian Terrace Hotel, about two miles from Mercedes Benz Stadium. Claire picked the hotel for its ambiance, rather than for its proximity. Toby and the team were staying at the Marriot Marquis, closer to the stadium and about a mile from the Georgian Terrace. Claire, Nora, Grace, and Eli were, by now, veterans of the Final Four. They knew they'd see Toby only briefly, if at all, until after Saturday night's semifinal. The Saints' opponent that night could not have been more familiar. For the fourth time that season, they would face St. Bonaventure. The Bonnies, the East Region's #2 seed, got there by beating Texas Christian, a #12 seed Cinderella. In the locker room before the game, Toby shared a story he'd learned about earlier that day. "You've probably all heard of Captain Jim Voorhees," Toby began. Many of the players nodded. They were familiar with Capt. Voorhees' story, his eighty-year connection to St. Michael's, his heroism as a Navy pilot in World War II. Toby briefly related it for the benefit of the players who might not know about the distinguished alumnus' remarkable life. Toby took a deep breath. "Captain Voorhees is 101 years old now. He's...he's not doing very well." Another deep breath. "His care-givers say that one of the things that brings him the most joy right now is Saints basketball. He likes to listen on the radio. "I'm not telling you that you have to win this game for Jim Voorhees. That's overly sentimental and, to be honest, Captain Voorhees would never expect me to lay that on you...or want me to. "What Captain Voorhees did for our country was much more important than any game of basketball. We all know that, especially him." Toby swallowed hard. "What I want you to do tonight is to approach this game with as much of Captain Voorhees' spirit as you can. Focus your minds on what's in front of you. Play with intensity. Play for each other. For your college...for our college. Yours, mine, and Captain Voorhees'. If you do that, and he's following the game--I know he will be--he'll know it. He will feel it. He'll be happy. He'll be proud." Then Toby lowered his head. Nobody spoke another word. Liam Whitworth rose first, and he led his teammates out of the locker room. Toby's staff followed, and then Toby himself. ***
Dan Kessler, on the Saints Radio Network...the call Jim Voorhees listened to: "Let's set the stage now. Forty-three seconds remain in the second half. The Saints led by five at the intermission, and that's the biggest lead either team has managed all night long. St. Bonaventure has rallied back, they way we all knew they would. Their senior star, Clinton Rucker, has willed his team back into the game. "We went up by four a few minutes ago, when Drew Joyce hit the second of his two big three-pointers...the biggest shots of the freshman's young career. "Now it's tied again, 68-68. The Saints have the basketball coming out of the timeout. They can't play for the last shot here; no matter what happens, the Bonnies have a chance to answer back. "Let's go! Kincaid inbounds to Stokes. Jamari sets 'em up. Out to Rosenzweig on the right. Ethan holds; back to Jamari. "Now it's Voelker, working off Whitworth's screen. AV, from the midrange... "IT'S IN!! Aaron Voelker's twelve-footer is good! Saints lead, 70-68! Eighteen-point-eight seconds remain! Ray DiPietro, color commentator: I'm thinking "Levi Parks is going to call time out as soon as the Bonnies cross mid-court. There is no coach in the country who's better in these late-game situations than Levi Parks. I think Toby would agree with me here." Dan: "That's exactly what happens, Ray. Christ into the frontcourt, and Parks calls time out. That's his last time-out, too." Ray: "The ball has to be in Clinton Rucker's hands now. You have to run things through your main man when the game--when the season's on the line. And he's been marvelous all night long: 35 points, 14-for-19 shooting." Dan: "This is it. A berth in the national championship game is on the line as the Bonnies inbound the ball. Rucker has it now. He's guarded by Rosenzweig. "Now to Rodas, back to Rucker...to Christ at the top of the key. Six seconds. They better hurry! Rucker again...he tries a floater... "It's no good! Whitworth has it, and the buzzer sounds! The Saints hold on, and we're going to the final! A few moments later: Dan: "Clinton Rucker's face is in his hands. Aaron Voelker has his arm around him. I know this sounds like a cliché, but as much as we want to see the Saints move on, it's fair to say that Clinton Rucker doesn't deserve to lose tonight. What a player...what a career." Code:
In the stands behind the Saints bench, twenty-three Whittakers, Dempseys, et. al., clad in navy and gold, celebrated together. And in the family room of a house in Bryn Mawr, Pennsylvania, with his daughter and his caregiver nearby, a proud St. Michael's alumnus clenches his fist once, and smiles softly. Last edited by MoonlightGraham : 02-01-2026 at 02:46 PM. |
|
|
|
|
02-09-2026, 10:30 AM
|
#210 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
April 6, 2020
Mercedes-Benz Stadium, Atlanta, Georgia The National Championship Game Code:
When the horn finally sounded and the scoreboard froze at St. Michael’s 86, Memphis 77, there was a half-second where the entire arena seemed to inhale at once — then everything broke loose. On the court, Aaron Voelker bent at the waist, hands on his knees, letting out a long breath. Then he straightened, eyes finding the scoreboard, and he laughed — a sharp, disbelieving sound — before throwing both arms into the air. Jamari Stokes sprinted straight at him, leaping into his chest, and the two nearly toppled over as teammates piled on. Darius Kincaid dropped to one knee at midcourt, head tilted back, eyes closed. Liam Whitworth grabbed him from behind, shouting something unintelligible into his ear as confetti began to fall. Ethan Rosenzweig slapped the floor once, hard, then sprang up, pointing toward the Saints’ bench and screaming, “That’s us! That’s us!” On the sideline, the bench erupted. Reese Malloy jumped onto the scorer’s table, pumping his fists before an assistant yanked him back down, laughing. Justin Manning hugged Drew Joyce so tightly Drew's feet came off the floor. Then Toby Whittaker stepped onto the court. He clapped once — sharp, deliberate — and the nearest players instinctively turned toward him. Voelker broke free from the pile and wrapped Toby in a quick, fierce embrace. “Thank you, Coach,” he said, voice cracking. Toby nodded, one hand on Aaron’s shoulder. “You earned it.” The Saints were mobbing one another near midcourt, laughing, shouting, some crying openly now. They looked stunned and exhausted and impossibly young — champions who had just realized what they’d done. Up in the stands, the families felt it all at once. Nora was the first on her feet. She didn’t scream right away; she just threw both arms straight up, eyes wide, almost stunned. “They did it,” she said, breathless. “They actually did it.” Then the scream came — loud, unfiltered, pure joy. Grace shrieked and grabbed Eli in a bear hug. “CHAMPIONS!” she yelled, hopping in place. Eli laughed so hard he almost dropped his program. “Dad won it all. Again,” he said, over and over, like he needed to hear it out loud to believe it. Claire sat frozen for a beat, hands pressed together, eyes locked on the court — on Toby, surrounded by players, confetti drifting down around him. Then she covered her mouth, tears spilling before she could stop them. James Dempsey leaned in immediately, one arm around his daughter's shoulders. “He did it again,” he said softly. On his other side, his wife Ellen nodded, eyes shining. “Three times. That puts him in a very small club.” A few rows down, David Whittaker exhaled deeply and leaned back in his seat, eyes closed for a moment, like he was finally letting go of a weight he’d been carrying since Toby was a teenager. Lorraine clasped his hand tightly, smiling through tears. “Three national championships,” she said quietly. “Just like Cleveland Nieves.” Lorraine knew her Saints history. Michael Dempsey let out a low whistle. “Only four coaches have ever done that,” he said. Lauren Dempsey squeezed his hand and smiled. “And two of them are ours.” Like Toby and Claire, Michael and Lauren had met while students at St. Michael's. Around them, nieces and nephews bounced in their seats, hugging whoever was closest, high-fiving strangers in Saints colors. Someone shouted, “That’s my uncle!” Someone else yelled, “Three-time champ!” Somebody knocked over a soda, and nobody cared. Back on the floor, the Saints finally formed a loose huddle around Toby. He said only a few words — calm, steady, unmistakably himself — and every player leaned in, listening, champions hanging on their coach’s voice one last time. Claire watched him the entire time. Nora leaned into her. “Mom,” she said quietly, suddenly serious. “Look at him.” Claire nodded, tears still coming. “I am.” As the confetti fell thicker and the crowd roared on, the families stood together — arms around shoulders, hands clasped, hearts racing — sharing that rare, electric moment when all the years collapse into one perfect ending. The Saints were national champions. Again. And everyone in blue and gold — on the floor and in the stands — knew exactly what it meant. |
|
|
|
|
02-09-2026, 10:32 AM
|
#211 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
The locker room door closed and, for the first time all night, it was quiet.
Not silent — you could still hear heavy breathing, the hiss of the showers starting up, sneakers being kicked off — but contained, like the game had finally let them go. The Saints sat where they’d dropped: some on the floor with their backs against lockers, some on the benches, some still standing because they didn’t quite trust their legs yet. Aaron Voelker stared at the nameplate above his locker, towel draped over his shoulders. Darius Kincaid leaned forward, elbows on knees, eyes on the tile. A few guys laughed softly, almost nervously, like the joy hadn’t fully settled. Toby waited. He always did. He stood near the whiteboard, arms folded, letting the moment breathe. Letting them feel it without him rushing in to define it. When the room finally calmed — when heads started to turn his way without him asking — he spoke. “Sit down,” he said, gently. Everyone did. He looked around the room, slowly, deliberately, making eye contact with each player. No clipboard. No stats. No coach’s voice. Just Toby. “You just won a national championship,” he said. A few guys laughed. Someone shook his head like that sentence didn’t make sense yet. “You don’t have to cheer,” Toby added. “You don’t have to yell. You don’t have to prove anything right now. This isn’t for the cameras. This is for you.” He paused. “People are going to talk about the score. They’re going to talk about halftime, about Aaron’s shots, about defensive possessions, about who missed what for Memphis.” He nodded once. “That’s fine. That’s their job.” Then his voice lowered. “But what won this game didn’t start tonight.” He gestured around the room. “It started in August. In empty gyms. In film rooms where nobody wanted to be. In days when shots didn’t fall and nobody outside this room thought we were special.” A few players nodded. Someone swallowed hard. “You learned how to guard without fouling. How to move the ball when you wanted to shoot. How to sit next to a teammate you were mad at and figure it out anyway.” He smiled faintly. “You learned how to be uncomfortable together.” He turned toward Voelker. “Aaron,” he said, “you led with your work. Not your voice. That’s harder. You did it anyway.” Then to Kincaid. “Darius, you anchored us. Every night. You made everyone else better without asking for credit.” Around the room he went — not long speeches, just truths, short and specific. Each player seen. Each role honored. Finally, he stepped back. “I’ve been doing this a long time,” Toby said. “And I can tell you something that doesn’t get said enough.” The room leaned in. “Winning doesn’t make you good men. It reveals whether you already were.” He let that sit. “You treated each other the right way. You represented this program the right way. You represented your families the right way.” His voice tightened, just slightly. “And you gave each other something that will never be taken away.” He took a breath. “This title belongs to you. Not me. Not the school. Not history. You.” Then, almost as an afterthought, he added with a small smile, “And before we leave, we’ll clean up the locker room. Champions don’t leave messes.” The room laughed — a release, finally — and then, one by one, players stood. Voelker crossed the room first and hugged him. Others followed. No pile-on. No chaos. Just gratitude. As Toby stepped back and watched them — laughing now, finally loose — he felt the weight lift. They hadn’t just won a championship. They had earned it, together. |
|
|
|
|
02-09-2026, 11:07 AM
|
#212 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
April 7, 2020
The day after the national championship game, Darius Kincaid and Jamari Stokes made it official: they were entering the professional draft. "Winning yesterday removed the last doubts I had about going pro," Jamari said. "There's no better way to go out than this." "I came to St. Michael's to win a national championship and to learn from the best," Darius added. "That's exactly what happened." Code:
What does it say when a national championship team doesn't have a player or a coach who earns All-American honors? The Saints' team effort was built on the contributions of stars who were overshadowed by bigger stars from other programs. Saint Louis center Wesley Birmingham was a more productive version of Darius Kincaid, with an extra dose of elite rim protection. Clinton Rucker and Tate Crenshaw were both All-Americans, leaving no room for Aaron Voelker. Toby, too, was passed over in favor of coaches whose teams dominated their conferences to a greater extent, or who might be completing the final seasons of their storied careers. Code:
Code:
Code:
Code:
Aaron Voelker was fifth in the nation in scoring, and second in the conference behind Tate Crenshaw. Jamari Stokes, despite playing in a time-share with another talented point guard in Reese Malloy, led the league in assists. Reese was fourth. Darius Kincaid and Liam Whitworth were second and fourth, respectively, among conference rebounders. |
|
|
|
|
02-09-2026, 11:33 AM
|
#213 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
April 11, 2020
All-American voters weren't terribly impressed with the credentials of the Saints' stars, but pro scouts absolutely were. For the second straight year, a St. Michael's big man was drafted first overall. This time, it was Darius Kincaid. Two more Saints were picked in the first round: Jamari Stokes (#15) and Liam Whitworth (#22). Jamari would be the professional teammate of a conference rival; St. Bonaventure's Clinton Rucker was selected with the #45 pick. The day after the draft, Cyril Caulfield announced his retirement. "It was a short ride," the veteran coach said, "but it was a great one." He'd been fitted for an NCAA championship ring, after all. Code:
Notre Dame's huge class included three five-star players, led by rugged forward Roderick Longley and sharpshooter Richard Burgess. Andre Henderson, a big man whom the Saints pursued, headlined Temple's strong class. Malcolm Rivers looks like the most college-ready of the Saints' three freshmen, but all three newcomers should turn out to be the kinds of players who can help teams win games in March and April. Code:
Poor Penn State. This is the Nittany Lions' second consecutive poor recruiting haul. I'd have recruited Friedhold Schindlbeck simply for the sake of his name, but he's actually a nice player. I wish we'd signed him. Last edited by MoonlightGraham : 02-09-2026 at 11:35 AM. |
|
|
|
|
02-09-2026, 01:31 PM
|
#214 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
April 30, 2020
Nora Decides Late afternoon sunlight slanted across the Whittaker kitchen, warm but heavy, like the weight of the day. Nora sat at the island, laptop open. She had known about her acceptances for weeks, and now the moment had come: by tomorrow, she would commit. Grace and Eli lingered nearby, nibbling on muffins and trading whispered commentary. Claire poured herself a cup of coffee, watching her eldest with that careful blend of anticipation and pride. Toby leaned against the counter, arms crossed, quiet as always, but present. “So,” Nora said, taking a deep breath, “this is it. The day before I have to decide. Feels… heavier than I thought it would.” Claire leaned in. “That’s normal. You’ve thought about it for weeks. You’re ready, Nora. You just have to pick the one that feels right.” Nora clicked open the list of her schools again, scanning: Notre Dame, Georgetown, Swarthmore, Amherst, Bryn Mawr, Villanova, St. Michael’s. The names were familiar now — each one a story she had already imagined, lived in her mind countless times. “Let’s start with the sentimental one,” she said, smiling faintly. “St. Michael’s. Always home, always family. I love it. But… I think I need more than just ‘familiar.’ I want challenge. I want excitement. I want to push myself.” Claire nodded. “You’ve earned the freedom to pick without worrying about anything but choosing the best fit for you." “Exactly,” Nora said. “I don’t have to stay close. I don’t have to pick comfort. I can pick… my path.” She paused, looking at her parents. “And that’s why it’s between Notre Dame and Georgetown.” Toby straightened, quietly supportive. “Two excellent schools. You know your priorities — faith, academics, independence. Listen to that instinct.” Claire smiled, tilting her head. “Let’s talk through it. Georgetown — big city, global exposure, all that buzz. Notre Dame — strong academics, campus life, faith built into every corner. Which feels more like you?” Nora bit her lip. “Georgetown is exciting. I’d meet people from all over the world, learn in the heart of DC… but Notre Dame feels… like purpose. Like home, but also responsibility. Like I can grow and thrive and still stay connected to what matters to me.” Eli piped up from the corner. “So… Notre Dame? That’s the one you want?” Nora smiled, nodding. “Yes. It’s the one that fits everything I care about. The right balance between independence, challenge, and faith. It’s the place I want to start the next chapter.” Claire reached over, squeezing her hand. “I’m so proud of you. And don’t worry — St. Michael’s will always be there if you ever need a little family magic.” Grace grinned. “Good choice. Now I just have to live in your shadow for the next two years.” Nora laughed softly, closing the laptop with a sense of relief and certainty. “Thanks, you guys. I feel ready.” Toby nodded quietly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He glanced at Claire, then back at Nora. “You’re making your own path. That’s all we ever wanted for you.” Nora looked around at the family that had guided her this far — messy, warm, unwavering. She felt grounded, excited, and completely herself, ready to step into the next chapter at Notre Dame. |
|
|
|
|
02-09-2026, 04:18 PM
|
#215 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
May 1, 2020
One of Toby's favorite rival coaches announced his retirement today, but it wasn't the coach Toby, and almost everyone else, thought it would be. Michael Hall hadn't shown any indication that he was ready to retire. His Temple team was a top-tier program, and had been for years. He'd just signed the nation's top recruiting class. He was only 60 years old, and seemed to be in excellent health. There seemed to be no reason, other than his desire to spend his energy on other things, for Coach Hall to step down. But step down he did, leaving with a career record of 714-360, six conference championships, and the 2016 national title. His wins total was the highest among active coaches. When St. Bonaventure coach Levi Parks shared an especially warm handshake with Toby at the end of the national semifinal in April, many observers wondered if Coach Parks was saying goodbye. But Coach Parks laughed off the suggestion. "Not today; not this year," he stated. At age 72, he would return to the position he'd held since 2007...the year Toby started at St. Michael's. Coach Parks had a lifetime 624-324 record, and six conference trophies. Well-traveled Peter Luna, age 54, was third among active coaches with 566 victories. He had won a national title at Purdue in 2008, and he was now at Georgia. Coach Luna ranked 45th on the career victories leaderboard, and he and Coach Parks were the only active coaches to be found there. Toby, with 411 wins, was still several seasons away from a spot on this list, but his .849 winning percentage was the highest in NCAA history, and no active coach could match his three national championships. Cyril Caulfield's retirement opened up a spot for a scouting specialist on Toby's staff. It was filled by a talented coach named Tom Reilly, a New Englander who had played for Amherst in the 1980s and spent time as a high school coach before moving into the college ranks in 1999. Coach Reilly was a career assistant; he'd spent more time at Virginia than anywhere else, but he'd just completed a year at Purdue before the whole staff was pushed out the door. Coach Reilly believed his value was in clarity, not command. He had no interest in running a program or recruiting off hype. He wanted to know how a kid reacts when his shot isn’t falling, whether he listens during timeouts, and how he treats teammates who won’t play much. That’s why Toby Whittaker hired him. Tom brought his wife Kathleen to Elmridge with him. Fortunately for her, St. Aloysius School needed a librarian, and the school was quick to hire Kathleen and her 29 years of experience. Their children John (26) and Stephanie (23) both lived in suburban Boston. |
|
|
|
|
02-10-2026, 01:27 PM
|
#216 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
November 8, 2020
Toby set recruiting tasks aside for an October weekend to take Claire, Grace, and Eli to visit Nora at Notre Dame. They stayed at the Morris Inn, only two miles or so from campus. Nora lived in Walsh Hall, a beautiful older building on the Main Quad. Her family met her roommates: Maeve Kelleher, from suburban Chicago, and Sofia Alvarez, from San Antonio. The Whittakers made all the classic stops together--the Basilica, the Grotto--before finding their seats in Notre Dame Stadium for the game. That night, they had dinner together at Rohr's, enjoying a delicious meal and wonderful conversation before they walked Nora back to her dorm. "This place suits you," Claire told her daughter. Nora smiled. She knew exactly what her mom meant. ***
Two weeks later, the Saints fall camp began. The team that emerged from camp was markedly different from last season's champions. The Saints lacked the marquee names that pro scouts had known for years; this year's edition was built around solid veterans who had spent three and four years together. Code:
Senior Ethan Rosenzweig was the only returning starter. A study in patience, Ethan had spent two years as a deep bench player before emerging as a starter as a junior. He'd always been able to shoot, but now he was among the nation's best, a player Toby trusted to take any shot. Ethan was also a willing defender. Ethan's classmate, Reese Malloy, also benefited from remaining a Saint for four years. Good enough to claim playing time at the expense of a player (Jamari Stokes) who was a first-round pick, Reese was now the unquestioned starter at the point. He was ready; he was an elite ballhandler and passer, and a shut-down defender who could create turnovers. Toby thought Reese would be one of the best players in the nation at his position. Justin Manning worked hard in camp to prove he was more than a disruptor, more than a bench player. This fall, the junior big man showed improved defensive awareness and rebounding instincts. If he could continue to make half his shots, as he had so far as a collegian, he could also represent a sneaky-good offensive option. Joining Justin in the post would be sophomore Tyler Grant. Like Manning, he made a high percentage of his shots off the bench, and Toby thought he could be nearly as effective playing against opponents' best bigs. He knew Tyler would hustle and play solid defense, and he was a fine rim protector. Five-star freshman Malcolm Rivers proved to be every bit as good as advertised. An electric athlete with a scorer's mentality, Malcolm worked tirelessly to improve his fitness and hone his body for the demands of college basketball. "He's ready," assistant Mark Graham said of the precocious guard from New York. Drew Joyce didn't play as much as a freshman as most top five recruits did. Most high school phenoms don't have to compete for playing time against veterans like Rosenzweig and Liam Whitworth, and even fewer received NCAA championship rings like the one Drew would receive at the Saints' home opener. Drew's versatility made him, in Toby's words, a "sixth starter," able to play as many as four positions. It also made pro scouts consider him as a possible lottery pick if he left school in the spring. Freshman Dudley Flower and sophomores Sal Lavin and Luke O'Connor would all receive some run in the backcourt. Dudley and Sal were shooters, and Luke was a distributor. Freshman Sean Callahan and redshirt sophomore Felix Sauter, a former transfer, provided frontcourt depth. And who couldn't love a player named Philo Wipplinger? Philo was a walk-on big man from Germany who won his roster spot by finishing second to Tyler Grant in the team's strength competition and by being willing to defend Grant and the other big men with every ounce of his energy. Coach Graham was careful in his assessment of this year's team. "For the past several years, we had players everyone was talking about. Players like [Aaron] Voelker, [Colton] Reddick, [Minaugas] Vairys. This year's team doesn't have one guy everyone knows. People don't realize what a player Ethan is. Reese is better than people think he is. "I don't know if it's possible for the defending national champion to sneak up on anyone, but if it is, we might be the team to do it." |
|
|
|
|
02-11-2026, 11:41 AM
|
#217 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
If you paid even the least bit of attention to college basketball recruiting, you knew Tyrese Coleman's name.
Eli Whittaker and his friends at St. Michael's College School certainly did. They usually called him by his first name alone, as in "Tyrese was at the AAU tournament I played in last summer in Maryland, but he's not in my age group." Seeing Tyrese was worth bragging about. He was the top player in the Class of 2021, and he'd held that position since ninth grade. Now, Tyrese was a 6'10" big man, with a game-changing combination of power and precision. His scouting report was peppered with phrases like drop-coverage anchor, elite rebounder, vertical spacer, and paint deterrent. Tyrese attended Trinity Episcopal School in Richmond, Virginia. His father, Marcus, was a civil engineer, just like Toby's dad had been. David Whittaker remembered meeting Marcus at conferences. Tyrese's mother, Adrienne, taught literature at Virginia Commonwealth. They hadn't enrolled Tyrese at Trinity because of its basketball program (which was very good), but for its academic quality and its structure. Tyrese was in the top ten percent of his class, especially interested in his history, government, and religion classes. He read a lot, and it wasn't fluff. If Tyrese hadn't been a basketball star, selective colleges and universities would still have been interested in him. Toby saw him play for the first time at the AAU tournament Eli mentioned. Tyrese blocked six shots in the game Toby watched, and probably altered a dozen more. Almost all his blocks were redirected to teammates to trigger fast breaks; only once did he hammer the shot far out of play. That shooter didn't attempt to step into the paint again. On the court, Tyrese was calm in a way that unsettled people. He didn't bark, he didn't celebrate blocks, and he didn't stare people down. He simply turned, ran the floor, and set the next screen. Teammates trusted Tyrese because he didn't panic. Opponents hated playing against him because nothing rattled him. ***
It was late afternoon when Toby’s rental car turned into a quiet, tree-lined neighborhood outside Richmond. Brick colonials. Trim lawns. Basketball hoop over one driveway with a slightly bent rim — used, not decorative. He noticed that. The Colemans’ house wasn’t flashy. Two stories. Clean porch. A Trinity Episcopal yard sign tucked near the steps. Tyrese answered the door. “Good evening, Coach.” Not “Hey.” Not “What’s up.” Good evening. Toby clocked that immediately. The house smelled like something slow-cooked. Toby identified garlic and rosemary, and he felt family meal energy. Marcus Coleman was steady, solid, broad-shouldered. His handshake was firm and his eyes were direct and warm. "You're David Whittaker's son, aren't you?" Marcus smiled. Toby smiled, too. "Yes, I am." "Your father is a good man." Toby smiled even more. Adrienne Banks-Coleman was thoughtful and observant. She was the type of person who listened before she spoke. There was a younger sister, too: Laila, an eighth grader. She pretended not to care about basketball but absolutely did. They sat at the dining room table. No catering. No show. Just dinner. That mattered to Toby. They didn't talk basketball at first, Instead, Adrienne asked about St. Michael’s academic advising structure. Marcus asked about graduation rates. Toby didn't deflect, and he didn't pivot to talk about banners. He answered directly. “Eighty-nine percent graduate in four years. The other eleven percent graduate in five. Colton Reddick will graduate in May, and he's in the pros now. We build schedules around travel. And if a player struggles academically, we address it immediately.” Tyrese listened more than he spoke. But when he did speak, it was precise. “What’s the balance like between defensive responsibility and pace in your system?” Toby smiled slightly. “That’s a real question.” After dinner--Tyrese cleared the table, while Laila loaded the dishwasher--Tyrese pulled up a clip on the television. It's a Trinity game, with the Titans playing high ball screen coverage. Tyrese paused it himself. “I should’ve switched earlier here.” When he restarted the clip, Toby saw that Tyrese blocked the shot anyway. Toby leaned forward. “Why?” “Because the guard had his shoulders downhill. If I switch sooner, he doesn’t get to the lane.” Tyrese's reply didn't reflect ego. Just evaluation. And that's when Toby realized he was having a basketball conversation, not making a recruiting visit. While Toby was still processing this exchange (and smiling), Marcus asked him another question. “Coach, what kind of young man leaves your program?” Toby didn't rush it. “Accountable. Prepared. Tired, because we work. But prepared.” Adrienne studied him. “And if he’s two-and-through?” There it is. Toby doesn’t flinch. “Then he’s two-and-through the right way.” He didn't sell longevity. He sold development. Tyrese and his family knew that two St. Michael's centers have been the first overall pick in the professional draft in the past three years. Mindaugas Kairys and Darius Kincaid were ready for the next level, and St. Michael's made that happen. Tyrese watched that exchange closely. In the car, Toby sat for a moment before starting the engine. He thought about: The calm in that house. The way Tyrese owned his mistakes on film. The parents asking about graduation before playing time. The discipline of Trinity layered onto natural maturity. He didn't think, “Five-star.” He thought: Tyrese stabilizes everything. And that’s rarer than talent. |
|
|
|
|
02-12-2026, 08:53 AM
|
#218 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
The Saints also wanted to sign a point guard from the Class of '21. They had their eyes on two players in particular: Julian Mercado and Lucas Moretti.
Mercado was as good a pure point guard as Toby had recruited in years. He could settle his team down into its offense and run it like a symphony conductor, or push the pace and create easy baskets with dazzling passes. Quick and aggressive, Julian was a superb on-ball defender, perfect for Toby's man-to-man scheme. He was from Teaneck, New Jersey; the Saints usually recruited well in that area. Moretti was as scrappy as Mercado was elegant. He was a product of a good program at La Salle Academy in Providence. Lucas shot the ball more, averaging 20 points a game to Julian's 12. Some scouts believed he'd be no better than a secondary ballhandler, but Toby and his staff disagreed--and everyone graded his shooting ability at an easy A. Both Julian and Lucas were extremely bright; Julian scored 1480 on his SAT and Lucas hit a 1410. Both young men took challenging classes and made good grades. Julian was a whiz at calculus and physics, while Lucas took AP French and AP Latin. There was very little to separate the two guards except their college preferences. Julian bonded well with Temple's new coach, Bert Schwartz. Lucas had been wearing St. Michael's gear since he was in elementary school. "We brought Julian to campus," Olen Hargrove remembered, "and he was polite and seemed interested...but I could tell he didn't love the place. Lucas, on the other hand..." Coach Hargrove smiled. "Lucas headed for the Cloister first, instead of The Pavilion. He looked like a kid on Christmas morning. "He told us that day he was coming." On Decision Day, Lucas kept his word. The Saints had their point guard. The early departures of the Wisconsin boys, Jamari Stokes and Darius Kincaid, left St. Michael's with four scholarships to offer this year. Two of them were awarded to Moretti and Tyrese Coleman. The others were given to Sean McKenna and Marcus Bellamy. McKenna was the Saints' sleeper pick. He was a 6'10" forward from Bucks County, a suburban Philly kid who grew up rooting for the Saints. He also developed a jump shot that looked like it came out of a training video. "He's money from 25 feet in," assistant Mark Graham said with a smile. Sean was also, in another coach's words, "one of the least athletic good players I've ever seen." Still a bit gawky at 210 pounds, Sean wasn't quick, he wasn't particularly strong, and he could barely dunk. Those limitations caused the experts to consider him a three-star prospect. But Sean had a five-star ability to shoot the ball, and the Saints staff liked him. Toby offered him a scholarship and Sean accepted it as soon as he could. Marcus was almost Sean's mirror image, a supremely athletic 6'6" wing whose basketball skills needed refinement. Unlike a lot of top basketball players, Marcus kept playing the other sports he enjoyed at Our Lady of Good Counsel in suburban D.C. He had been recruited as a wide receiver until he told football coaches he was planning to play basketball. During his junior track and field season, Marcus posted personal records of almost 23 feet in the long jump and just over 49 feet in the triple jump. Recruiting gurus universally gave Marcus five stars, ranking him among the top five players in his class. Marcus and Tyrese Coleman were AAU teammates and very close friends. "We've talked about playing college ball together," Marcus said in an interview. "We'll make our own decisions, but it's something we've considered." By November 1, Tyrese and Marcus had narrowed their choices to two programs: N.C. State and St. Michael's. Two high-prestige programs with winning traditions. One large, public school with big-time football; one small, private school where basketball was, by far, the biggest game in town. "We're going to have to work hard to land those guys," Toby admitted. "Tyrese seemed to like the atmosphere here more than Marcus did. "If we sign them both..." |
|
|
|
|
02-12-2026, 01:24 PM
|
#219 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
January 1, 2021
Eli Whittaker would have received a few demerits if any of the teachers at SMCS had caught him with his phone out during the break between his third and fourth classes. Being a the best basketball player in the freshman class wouldn't have protected him. Neither would being the son of the school's beloved art teacher or the college's iconic basketball coach. But Eli was sneaky enough to check his phone when nobody was looking. That's how he learned that Tyrese Coleman had committed to St. Michael's that morning. The first person Eli told was his best friend, Jack Pendergast. "We got Tyrese," was all Eli needed to say. "How about Marcus?" JP asked him. "Nothing yet." Marcus Bellamy was still deciding between N.C. State and St. Michael's. Tyrese's decision, on the other hand, seemed as solid as the sandstone walls of the old buildings on the St. Michael's campus. “I chose St. Michael’s because they don’t just build players — they build people," Tyrese said, flanked by his parents and younger sister as they stood in the gym at Trinity Episcopal. "I want to compete at the highest level, but I also want to be challenged every day to be better off the court than I am on it. That’s what this program is about.” Eli and JP were at basketball practice when Marcus announced his decision. He chose the Wolfpack. A few people wondered if Marcus saw an easier path to immediate playing time at N.C. State; they sorely needed a wing, while the Saints would have three former five-star players--Malcolm Rivers, Sal Lavin, and Dudley Flower--returning at SG and SF next season. ***
Code:
The Saints rolled through November and into December without missing a beat. Ethan Rosenzweig had blossomed into one of the nation's top scorers, averaging nearly 26 per game. Many of Ethan's buckets came courtesy of Reese Malloy, second in the nation in assists with almost nine per game. Malcolm Rivers was establishing himself as a dangerous second scoring option. Drew Joyce worked his way into the starting lineup, filling the scoresheet on a daily basis. Tyler Grant and Justin Manning combined for 14 points and 13 rebounds a game. The Whittakers turned the Saints' game at Notre Dame into an occasion to visit Nora. She wore an Irish hoodie and sat with the Notre Dame students; Toby and Claire said that's exactly where she belonged. The Saints lost their first game of the season at Richmond, where Spiders fans stormed the court after their team dominated the second half and won, 73-59. Richmond's star was freshman Anthony DeLuca, who had played his high school ball a half hour up the road from Elmridge for Abington Friends. Toby and his staff had recruited him, and he'd invited Nora's best friend to his senior prom. Tonight, he dropped 23 points--seven more than his average--reminding Toby why he'd been on the Saints' short list. A streak of 24 consecutive victories, dating back to last February, didn't make it home from Virginia. The loss at Richmond cast a shadow over the Saints program, but that shadow lifted two days later, when the nation's most highly-regarded high school player picked St. Michael's. Tyrese had been at the Richmond game, and he stopped by the team's locker room after the contest. "I hope they had fun," Tyrese told his future teammates, taking a rare opportunity to indulge in some trash-talking. "That ain't happenin' again." Last edited by MoonlightGraham : 02-17-2026 at 09:12 AM. |
|
|
|
|
02-17-2026, 09:28 AM
|
#220 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
February 1, 2021
While Toby preferred to complete the Saints' recruiting process early in the season, he and his staff often landed very good players in January and February. They thought they'd found another good one in Scotty Cantrell, a four-star forward from Los Angeles. Head recruiter Olen Hargrove had been sold on Scotty from the start. “Scotty’s motor jumps off the film. He rebounds outside his area, he runs the floor every possession, and he protects the rim with real timing. You can’t teach that instinct. We think his best basketball is still in front of him.” Toby praised the newest future Saint, too. “He’s a tough, physical forward who embraces contact. What excites us is how skilled he already is around the basket and how much room he still has to grow. I think Scotty has some real upside as a shooter. We know he'll be able to rebound, defend, and set a tone every night.” Scotty played power forward for Brentwood Academy, but the Saints staff thought he could play on the perimeter, too. "We saw film of Scotty defending wings on the AAU circuit," Tom Reilly pointed out. "He's not exceptionally quick, but he understands positioning and reads the game well. We can envision him playing alongside Tyrese Coleman, Tyler Grant, Sean Callahan, Sean McKenna." Signing a top player from California demonstrated the national appeal of the St. Michael's program. "We can recruit nationally now," Hargrove stated. But, at the same time, Toby pointed out how important it was for the Saints to maintain their reputation as a place where local high school players could thrive. "We'll always recruit the Philadelphia area actively. We'll recruit the DMV. We'll recruit the New York area. Our East Coast roots will remain strong." Last edited by MoonlightGraham : 02-17-2026 at 09:29 AM. |
|
|
|
|
02-17-2026, 10:50 AM
|
#221 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
Code:
Father Rob Grey stood in the hallway outside the locker room after the La Salle win, hands folded behind his back, smiling in that calm, pastoral way of his. It was Senior Night for Ethan Rosenzweig and Reese Malloy. When Reese walked by, Father Rob tapped him on the shoulder. "Great game tonight, Reese," he beamed. Reese enveloped the priest in a bear hug. "Thanks, Father Rob." In front of his parents and siblings, Reese had broken the Saints' record for assists in a single game, dishing out 16. Father Rob didn’t talk about rankings. He didn’t talk about margins. He talked about character. “You can learn a lot about young men in February,” he said. “Anyone can win when the ball is going in. What I’ve loved about this group is how they responded when it didn’t.” He pointed specifically to the Duquesne loss and the home setback against St. Bonaventure. “They didn’t fracture. They didn’t point fingers. They practiced harder. They listened. They trusted one another. That’s maturity.” He called the 14–2 conference mark “a testament to discipline,” but what impressed him most was the defensive consistency — holding multiple league opponents under 50 points, winning on the road at Temple, answering every stumble with composure. And then he added, with a little grin: “Basketball reveals the soul. This team’s soul is steady.” Classic Father Rob — grounding the whole thing in something bigger than the scoreboard. Code:
Last edited by MoonlightGraham : 02-17-2026 at 10:54 AM. |
|
|
|
|
02-18-2026, 09:19 AM
|
#222 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
Code:
The Mid-Atlantic Conference tournament featured a number of upsets. In the first round proper, the Saints were the only better-seeded team to win their game; Duquesne, St. Bonaventure, and Temple all lost. Seniors Ethan Rosenzweig and Reese Malloy played up to their usual high standards in a rout of Pitt. Ethan scored 24 points, and Reese combined 10 points, 11 assists, and 5 steals. Electric freshman Malcolm Rivers added 15 points. Rosenzweig netted 25 more the next night, as the Saints beat Rutgers to advance to the final. Drew Joyce scoreld 14, and Justin Manning came off the bench to grab 14 rebounds. The Saints met La Salle in the championship game. The Explorers were ready; they wanted very badly to pull off the upset and punch a ticket to the Big Dance. But Ethan Rosenzweig was ready, too. He hit five three-pointers en route to a game-high 28 points, and he added 9 rebounds for good measure. Rivers scored 20, Joyce pitched in 15, and Malloy kept the shooters happy with 13 assists. After the game was over and the nets were cut down, a reporter approached Drew Joyce with a very direct question. "A lot of pro scouts are saying you'd be a lottery pick if you enter the draft. Some even have you going in the top five. Have you made up your mind about going pro?" Drew smiled. “Right now? I’m a Saint. That’s it. We just won a championship with my brothers. I’m not thinking about anything past this locker room.” The reporter kept going. "But have you thought about it?" Drew didn’t dodge the question, but he didn’t take the bait either. “Of course I’ve thought about it. Anybody in my position would. But I came here to build something. We’re not done yet. I owe it to this team to stay locked in.” Then he glanced back toward the court, where the celebration continued. “Those guys over there? That’s why I came to St. Michael’s. I'll sit down with my family after the season and figure out what’s next. But tonight belongs to us.” |
|
|
|
|
02-18-2026, 11:33 AM
|
#223 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
April 4, 2021
Indianapolis — 1:12 a.m. I scored 22 tonight. It doesn’t matter. That’s the strangest part of this whole thing. I can see the box score in my head like it’s etched there — 7-for-13. Four threes. Perfect from the line. I felt calm. I felt ready. When the ball left my hands, it felt right. And we lost by 12. Houston punched first and we never quite recovered. Eighteen turnovers. Weston Naranjo couldn’t miss. Every time we made a small push, something slipped — a loose ball, a rushed pass, a defensive breakdown. Championship games aren’t dramatic when you lose them. They’re quiet. They’re slow leaks. Last year we were the ones cutting down the nets. I remember how light everything felt. How the confetti sticks to your shoes. How you don’t want to leave the floor. Tonight I watched someone else climb the ladder. That part hurt more than I expected. But here’s what I keep coming back to: We went 34–4. We won the league. We got back to the Final Four. We beat two Top Ten teams in the tournament. That’s not an accident. That’s not luck. That’s culture. That’s mornings in the weight room. That’s film sessions nobody sees. That’s Reese talking in huddles. That’s Drew taking the toughest matchup every night. That’s Coach Whittaker believing in us when we looked ordinary in November. I got to be part of two teams that mattered. I don’t know what happens next. My college career is over. That sentence looks strange written down. I was a freshman yesterday. Now I’m packing a duffel bag and trying to understand how something can feel both complete and unfinished at the same time. We didn’t repeat. But we came back. And maybe that’s what I’ll remember most — that we didn’t defend the title with fear. We chased another one with joy. I’m proud of that. Tomorrow the sting will be sharper. Tonight I just feel grateful. — Ethan Code:
|
|
|
|
|
02-18-2026, 11:50 AM
|
#224 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
Code:
I don't remember ever seeing a team shoot 80 percent from the line in FBCB. Again, these numbers--especially the ratios--reflect the Saints' status as one of the best teams in the nation. Their trip to the Final Four was no fluke. Code:
Code:
Code:
Ethan Rosenzweig's senior season was one for the books. His total of 885 points is second all-time at St. Michael's...trailing George Bergman's 2009/10 record by a single point. His 318 made field goals beat Aaron Voelker's record from last year by six buckets. Reese Malloy shattered the Saints' season record for assists. Harold Toombs, a teammate of Toby's back in the nineties, held that record with 247. And despite starting only 56 games in his career, Reese graduates as the all-time St. Michael's leader in assists, with a total of 712 that beat Harold's mark by three. Fun fact: Toby Whittaker remains on two career leaderboards at his alma mater. His 362 made free throws ranks 8th all time, and his 143 career steals places him 10th. Last edited by MoonlightGraham : 02-18-2026 at 11:53 AM. |
|
|
|
|
02-18-2026, 11:59 AM
|
#225 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
Code:
Ethan Rosenzweig was a very deserving first team All-American. I wonder how many votes he got for national Player of the Year. Code:
The Saints swept the yearly superlatives this year. Toby doesn't always get the CotY prize--it often goes to a coach who is more of an underdog--but he was the voters' choice this year. Those voters apparently preferred a combo guard like Pascal Carter over a pure point guard like Reese Malloy, who was second in the nation in assists. Carter has been a fine player, but if he and Reese were swapped here, I'd be just fine with that. |
|
|
|
|
02-18-2026, 01:29 PM
|
#226 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
April 10, 2021
Drew Joyce listened to the pro scouts and entered the draft. It turned out to be a good decision, as he was chosen #5 overall. What does the fact that Drew started for only one season before being a top-five draft pick say about the Saints' program? Reese Malloy and Ethan Rosenzweig were undrafted, and both signed free agent contracts, hoping to keep their hoops dreams alive. Playing overseas was an option for both players, too. Code:
Code:
Four Mid-Atlantic teams separated themselves from the pack during the recruiting season, led by Temple and their haul of three five-star players. Julian Mercado looks like an instant star; he'll arrive on campus as a Blue/Blue player. Tyrese Coleman will also contribute from Day One. Toby Whittaker leveled up this spring. He's now a Level 13 coach. Here's how his ratings look now: Recruiting: 100 Scouting: 77 Coaching Offense: 91 Coaching Defense: 92 The only other coach at Toby's level is Francis Miller, who is--remarkably--an assistant coach at Charlotte. Coach Miller was a head coach for a dozen seasions, compiling a 223-163 record. Veteran Cody McIntyre, who has over 500 career victories, is the 49ers head coach. |
|
|
|
|
02-18-2026, 04:28 PM
|
#227 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
May 1, 2021
When Carl Wilson decided to retire, the first person outside his immediate family to receive the news was Toby Whittaker. "It's time," the veteran coach told his one-time colleague. Now sixty, Carl had just completed one season as the head coach at Austin Peay. He'd been the associate head coach at Boston College and Tennessee, after five years as the head man at Hartford. His ability to coach team and individual defense had earned him respect wherever he'd been, but he remembered his time at St. Michael's most fondly. That's why Coach Wilson chose to make his official retirement announcement back home, at The Pavilion. he didn’t hold a big press conference. Just a small gathering, with former players sprinkled in. His son Jalen, St. Michael's Class of 2013, stood beside his father, trying not to look emotional. Carl spoke the way he always coached — steady, direct, no wasted words. “I’ve been blessed to coach in a lot of places — Hartford gave me my first shot to lead, Boston College and Tennessee sharpened me in different ways, and Austin Peay let me finish on my terms. But St. Michael’s… this is where I learned what kind of coach I wanted to be.” He looked at Toby and said, “Those first four years we were building something out of nothing. We didn’t know it then, but we were setting a standard. Watching this program grow from afar has been one of the great joys of my career.” When he talked about coaching Jalen, it hit differently. Because he didn’t just coach his son — he coached him in a program he helped construct. Carl's voice grew heavy. “Jalen got to play in a locker room built on sacrifice. That matters to me.” The moment was less of a goodbye and more of a legacy acknowledgment. It honored Coach Wilson's part in building the program's foundation. A reporter came to speak to Toby. “Coach Wilson helped build the spine of this program," Toby said, an arm around his friend's shoulders. A lot of what people see now started with him.” So instead of sadness, the scene carried gratitude. History. Continuity. It feels like a reunion — not a farewell. |
|
|
|
|
02-20-2026, 02:19 PM
|
#228 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
Kesher Academy of Greater Philadelphia sat on a quiet, tree-lined stretch in Wynnewood, blending easily into the Main Line landscape of stone homes and neighborhood synagogues. From the street, it didn’t look like a basketball school. It looked like a place where conversations mattered.
The campus was modest but intentional: a brick academic building with Hebrew lettering carved into limestone, a newer glass wing housing science labs and a sunlit beit midrash where long wooden tables filled each morning with study and debate. Students moved between worlds seamlessly — Talmud at 8:00 a.m., AP Calculus by midday. The hallways reflected that balance. College pennants hung beside Torah portions of the week. Robotics trophies shared space with league sports plaques. Excellence wasn’t flashy there. It was assumed. The gym, slightly detached from the main building, was compact and loud. Navy-and-silver trim framed a polished hardwood floor stamped with Kesher Lions at midcourt. On winter nights the bleachers felt full even when they weren’t, chants rising in Hebrew and English, echoing off the low ceiling. Kesher was Modern Orthodox — observant, engaged, outward-looking. No Friday night games. No Saturday tournaments. The calendar bent around Shabbat and holidays, and the athletic program adjusted accordingly. It wasn’t a powerhouse. It was something steadier: a close-knit, academically rigorous school where teachers knew families by name and seniors might lead morning prayers before tipping off that night. On certain winter evenings, when the Lions were closing out a tight game and the student section found its rhythm, the place felt bigger than it was. ***
Toby had visited Kesher on a cold Tuesday night in January. He'd driven the short distance from Elmridge to Wynnewood to see a player Mark Graham had mentioned almost in passing — a 6’7” junior forward at Kesher Academy who “really understood the game.” The gym was small and warm, the bleachers tight to the floor. The student section was spirited, but not obnoxiously so. It felt contained, insulated from the noise of big-time recruiting. Ari Ben-David did not look like a high-major prospect in layup lines. No dunks. No theatrics. Just steady form shooting. The first possession caught Toby’s attention. Ari caught the ball at the high post, held it a beat, and slipped a left-handed bounce pass to a cutter for a layup. It wasn’t flashy, but it was precise. Two trips later, he rotated early on defense, walled up without fouling, secured the rebound, and delivered an outlet pass that hit his guard in stride. By halftime, Toby had stopped watching the ball and started watching Ari. How he spaced. When he talked. Where he stood when he didn’t have it. Late in the fourth quarter, with Kesher down two, Ari didn’t force anything. He reversed the ball, screened, popped to the elbow, and calmly knocked down a mid-range jumper. On the next possession, he slid over and took a charge. After the game, Ari shook hands with the opposing coach before turning to his teammates. Toby approached him. "I'm Coach Whittaker from St. Michael's." Ari's eyes widened slightly, but he didn't gush. He listened carefully, asked thoughtful questions about St. Michael’s offense, and spoke about school before basketball. On the drive home, Toby kept replaying the first pass of the night. Ari hadn’t dominated the game. He had controlled it. That was enough. ***
Eli Whittaker already knew Ari Ben-David. They'd never played against each other, but Eli had seen clips of Ari's games and knew guys who had faced him. When Toby came home, Eli looked up from the history homework he was doing at the kitchen table and smiled. "You were at Kesher, right?" Toby nodded. "Ari Ben-David can play." Toby smiled, putting his pencil down on his notebook. "Griffin played against him last summer. That's what he said, too. "Do you think he's good enough for St. Michael's?" Toby paused. "He's good enough for me to want to learn more." |
|
|
|
|
02-20-2026, 05:44 PM
|
#229 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
By the time Jordan Hayes walked into Room 214 as a senior, Tom Rinaldi had already been teaching at Penn Argyl Area High School twice as long as Jordan had been alive.
The room looked the same every year — campaign posters from elections long past taped carefully along the back wall, a framed copy of the Constitution near the whiteboard, and a corkboard crowded with yellowing newspaper clippings about former students. Mr. Rinaldi kept those up on purpose. “History,” he liked to say, adjusting one of his Friday bow ties, “isn’t just what happened. It’s who keeps carrying it forward.” Jordan took a seat in the third row, near the window. Not front and center. Not hiding, either. Mr. Rinaldi noticed that kind of thing. Senior year is different. Students are restless. Distracted. Half looking toward the door. Jordan wasn’t. In AP U.S. Government, when other students answered questions, some spoke to be heard. Jordan spoke to be understood. One afternoon, during a discussion about presidential leadership in crisis, the class was split — some arguing that strong leaders had to be loud and forceful, others insisting consensus mattered more. Jordan raised his hand, waited to be called on, and said quietly: “Sometimes the loudest leader isn’t the one people follow. It’s the one who makes everyone else feel steady.” There was no dramatic flourish. No attempt at applause. He simply folded his hands and listened. After class, Mr. Rinaldi stopped him. “Where’d you learn that?” he asked. Jordan shrugged. “Point guard, I guess. If I’m panicking, everybody panics.” Mr. Rinaldi smiled, the kind of smile he saved for moments when a student revealed more than he intended. “That’s not just basketball,” he said. “That’s life.” Toby Whittaker already knew a lot about Jordan Hayes, the point guard. Every basketball coach in America did. Jordan was the best player at his position in the Class of 2022. "He's not the best at any one thing," St. Bonaventure coach Levi Parks said of him. "But he's the most complete point guard in the class." Toby went to Penn Argyl to find out about Jordan Hayes the student, Jordan Hayes the young man. He talked to Tom Rinaldi. He talked to Colleen Martino, the faculty advisor to the National Honor Society. Colleen told Toby that "Jordan doesn't lead from the front of the room. He leads from the center." Toby talked to Dan Kowalski, who coached Jordan in track and field. Jordan was a very good sprinter--a state qualifier his junior year in the 100 meters (11.02) and 200 meters (22.48) and as a part of a district championship 4x100 relay. Coach Kowalski pushed him hard, and Jordan responded. "He's better at track than any basketball player I've ever coached," Coach Kowalski said. "That's because he's worked harder." Toby talked to Jeannette Kirby, a custodian at Penn Argyl. "Jordan Hayes?" She smiled. "He speaks to me every time he sees me and calls me by name." ***
When Toby stepped through the front doors of Kesher Academy, the building felt quieter than most schools he visited. Not silent — there was the low hum of afternoon classes, a burst of laughter down one hallway — but purposeful. Measured. He signed in at the front desk and was soon greeted by Rabbi David Adler, the principal, a thoughtful man with silver-rimmed glasses and an unhurried manner. They spoke first in his office. Not about points per game. Not about conference tournaments. Rabbi Adler asked about structure — about study halls on road trips, about academic advisors, about how St. Michael's handled holidays and family obligations. Toby answered plainly. No recruiting sparkle. “We hold our guys accountable,” he said. “Class attendance isn’t optional. And who they are off the court matters more than who they are on it.” Rabbi Adler listened, fingers lightly steepled. Then he nodded once. “That is what we hoped to hear.” Later that afternoon, Toby was led to a modest multipurpose room near the gym. A folding table had been set up. Coffee. Plates of rugelach. Nothing elaborate. Around the table sat the people who had shaped Ari Ben-David long before college coaches learned his name. Rabbi Meir Stein, Ari’s Talmud instructor, spoke first. His voice was soft but deliberate. “He studies patiently,” Rabbi Stein said. “He does not rush the text. He respects it.” Mrs. Leah Kaplan, who taught AP Calculus, smiled slightly. “He rewrites solutions until they’re elegant,” she added. “Not just correct. Elegant.” Toby leaned back, absorbing it. Elegant wasn’t a word he heard often in recruiting circles. Midway through the conversation, Coach Eli Rosen slipped in — Ari’s former middle school basketball coach, still broad-shouldered, still carrying himself like someone who could grab a rebound if needed. “He was never the loudest kid,” Rosen said. “But when things got tense, everyone looked at him.” There it was again. Not flash. Not noise. Presence. At the end of the table sat Mr. Samuel Goldfarb, a longtime synagogue board member and family friend. He had said little up to that point, but when he finally spoke, the room instinctively quieted. “We are proud of his talent,” Goldfarb said gently. “But talent travels. Character stays.” The words lingered. Rabbi Adler folded his hands and looked at Toby directly. “If Ari comes to St. Michael’s, he carries our values with him. We expect them to be honored.” Toby didn’t rush his answer. “You’ve built something strong here,” he said. “Our job wouldn’t be to change that. It would be to help him grow within it.” No one clapped. No one smiled broadly. But something in the room settled. Before leaving, Toby stepped into the gym. The bleachers were close to the floor, the banners neatly aligned along one wall. He'd seen Ari play there — pivoting patiently in the post, scanning before committing, never forcing what didn’t need to be forced. This wasn’t a recruitment built on hype videos or highlight reels. It was built on trust. As Toby shook hands on his way out — Rabbi Stein, Mrs. Kaplan, Coach Rosen, Mr. Goldfarb — it didn’t feel transactional. It felt like stewardship. When he stepped back into the cool Philadelphia afternoon, he realized something. If Ari Ben-David ever wore St. Michael’s across his chest, he wouldn’t just represent a program. He would represent a community that had sent him forward carefully. And that, Toby knew, was something you handle with care. Last edited by MoonlightGraham : 03-19-2026 at 07:46 AM. |
|
|
|
|
03-19-2026, 07:45 AM
|
#230 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
November 1, 2021
Decision Day One popular recruiting blogger called Ari Ben-David "the best high school basketball player you've never heard of." That blogger was not based in Philadelphia, where every hoops junkie knew who Ari was. As Decision Day approached, Ari narrowed his choices down to two: St. Michael's and Temple. He was staying close to home. Temple's new coach, Bert Schwartz, was a persuasive recruiter, and he shared his Jewish faith with Ari and his family. Coach Schwartz intensified his efforts to sign Ari during the summer, and what had seemed to Ari and his family to be an easy choice--signing with Toby Whittaker and St. Michael's--was not so easy anymore. "We see Ari as a four-year man," Toby said. "I envision him as one of the custodians of our culture, a player who has a Senior Night that brings tears to our eyes." But almost nobody thought Jordan Hayes would play four years of college basketball. Elite point guards almost never did. Jordan's final short list also contained St. Michael's and Temple, along with St. Bonaventure, N.C. State, and Tennessee. The people closest to Jordan--his parents, his coaches, his government teacher--knew he'd already made up his mind. That's why, as soon as he could, Jordan announced he was signing with St. Michael's. His announcement wasn't flashy; there was no nationally televised cap reveal, no attention-grabbing stunts. It happened in the Penn Argyl gym, with his family, coaches, and teammates by his side. And, just like that, the Saints had a player who looked like he would be the next in a series of talented, composed point guards who had worn the navy and gold. About an hour later, the news that Ari Ben-David had signed with Temple hit the internet. In a hallway at St. Michael's College School, sophomore Eli Whittaker was enjoying his morning break. He heard his phone buzz, and he took it out of his pocket. He read the message and shook his head. "Crap," he muttered under his breath. Eli showed his phone to Griffin McGuigan, a senior teammate who knew Ari well from the AAU circuit. Griffin smiled. "Don't believe everything you hear, dude. He's not going to Temple." Griffin was correct. When the school day at Kesher Academy ended, the student body gathered in the gymnasium to watch the first Division I signee in the school's history pull on a St. Michael's jacket. The new lead recruiter at St. Michael's, Ronald Elliott, had hit the ground running. "We identified two players we really, really wanted," Coach Elliott said as he sipped a cup of coffee. "Jordan Hayes and Ari Ben-David. Jordan and Ari are foundational pieces, perhaps for different reasons--but that's what they are. Other guys are going to want to come here to play with them." |
|
|
|
|
03-19-2026, 09:03 AM
|
#231 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
November 7, 2021
Code:
A rival coach who wanted to remain anonymous sighed and smiled when he was asked which team in college basketball had the best roster. "St. Michael's," he said without hesitation. "They're loaded." He paused for a moment. "They usually are, but this year, they've got nine, ten players who could start for anybody. They have some veterans who have grown up in their program, and some guys who will be there for two years before they go pro. They're stacked." One of those veterans was senior big Justin Manning, who arrived in Elmridge with solid credentials--four stars and a Top 100 ranking--but had always been overshadowed by stars like Mindaugas Kairys and Darius Kincaid. After three seasons in which his role gradually increased, Justin would begin this year as a starter for the first time. "I'm ready," he announced. "This is what I signed up for when I picked St. Michael's." Justin would be counted on to play defense and rebound, but he'd also made over half his shots as a collegian. The offense wouldn't break down if Justin had the ball in his hands. Another experienced player, Tyler Grant, would be asked to accept a role change that few players handled well. After starting 38 games as a sophomore, Tyler would come off the bench as the Saints' top frontcourt reserve. The 7'0" junior spoke candidly about this development. "Of course I'd rather start," he admitted. "Until I came here, I'd always been a starter. It's the role I'm most comfortable with. But Coach Whittaker was honest with me when he recruited me. I was a three-star [recruit]. He promised me I'd have a chance to play if I earned it, and he's kept his word. "Tyrese Coleman is a special player. He already plays a grown man game. It's my job to push him. If he calls me the toughest guy he plays against--even if it's just in practice--I'm doing my job right." Tyler was perfectly suited for that assignment, too. The freshman Tyler mentioned was, indeed, special. Tyrese Coleman wasn't the nation's #1 incoming recruit for nothing. A terrific fall camp prepared Tyrese to start from Day One, as expected. His offensive game wasn't quite as polished as his other skills, but he was far from a liability at that end of the floor. Toby and his staff knew this year's team would do most of its scoring damage from the perimeter, at least early in the season. Malcolm Rivers, the reigning Mid-Atlantic Freshman of the Year, was the Saints' top returning scorer (14.4 PPG). Could Malcolm, a deadly outside shooter with extensive range, handle the increased attention that a team's #1 threat commanded? Toby thought he was ready. Starting alongside Malcolm on the wing would be junior Sal Lavin. A legendary high school scorer, Sal had seen precious little action as a collegian, almost always as a shooting specialist. He'd been open about his unhappiness. He'd worked hard on his defense during camp and, even more importantly, he'd worked on his attitude. "Sal's smiling a lot more often," Tyler Grant pointed out. Five-star freshman Lucas Moretti had the big shoes of graduate Reese Malloy to fill at point guard. Lucas was delighted to be a Saint. "I've never seen a guy who was happier to be here," Toby recalled with a smile. "He's embraced everything about our school, on and off the court." Lucas was more of a lead guard, more of a scoring threat than Reese, who was the Saints' all-time leader in assists. English import Dudley Flower, whose shooting splits had been a gaudy .547/.464/.778 as a first year, would move up the depth chart this season. "When he's in, he's going to shoot," Toby confided. Junior Luke O'Connor, a traditional point guard, and sophomore Sean Callahan, an all-action big, rounded out a nine-man rotation who were all at least Green players as the season began. Freshman Sean McKenna would accept a redshirt. The Saints weren't a perfect team. There was no proven inside scorer, and no elite distributor in the mold of Reese Malloy. But they would be very, very hard to score against, with eager defenders all over the roster. You didn't need to be perfect to win. |
|
|
|
|
03-19-2026, 01:14 PM
|
#232 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
College Choices
Grace Whittaker '22 St. Michael's College School The second Whittaker child shared several characteristics with her older sister, but Grace was, in most ways, her own person. Both she and Nora made very good grades--Grace's 4.2 weighted GPA was very similar to her sister's. Both Whittaker girls were athletes, and both enjoyed the arts. Both girls had supportive, loving friends. But, while Nora had been, by her own admission, a "words kid," Grace excelled in and loved her STEM classes the most. Nora was a good high school track athlete; Grace was a soccer star, good enough to earn All-Conference recognition as a midfielder as a sophomore and a junior, almost certainly good enough to walk on to a Division I program if she chose to. Nora loved to sing, but didn't enjoy acting; Grace was an avid actress who was shy about her singing voice. Just as Nora had been two years earlier, Grace was the kind of student, and the kind of person, colleges wanted to attract. ***
By late October, Grace’s college list lived in three places at once: a color-coded spreadsheet on her laptop, a stack of half-edited essays on her desk, and a running monologue she delivered to anyone who would listen. “I’m not overthinking it,” she said one night at dinner, which usually meant she was thinking about it constantly. She had settled on an early application to the University of Virginia. It felt right in a way she couldn’t fully explain—big, alive, a place where she could disappear into something larger without losing herself. The rest of her list took shape around it. She applied to Notre Dame and Georgetown, both for their mix of academics and purpose. She added Boston College and Villanova, places that felt structured but social, serious but not rigid. She kept Holy Cross on the list because it just made sense, and the University of Richmond and Providence College because they felt like places she could see herself on an ordinary Tuesday. And then there was St. Michael's. She didn’t talk about that one as much. The applications came together in bursts. She wrote her best lines late at night, then crossed half of them out the next morning. Her essay started too polished, then too scattered, before landing somewhere in the middle—honest, a little restless, unmistakably hers. She wrote about learning how to direct her energy instead of apologizing for it. About soccer, yes—but also about theater, and the strange way both demanded the same kind of presence. Claire read drafts at the kitchen table, circling sentences lightly. “This part feels like you,” she’d say. Grace would nod, then rewrite the entire paragraph anyway. Toby stayed mostly out of it. Once, passing through, he glanced at her screen and said, “Just make sure it sounds like you talk.” “I do not talk like this,” Grace shot back, laughing. “Exactly,” he said, and kept walking. November came and went in a blur of deadlines, rehearsals, and playoff games. Grace moved from one thing to the next without much pause—the way she always had. Practice, rehearsal, homework, applications. Repeat. If she felt the pressure building, she burned it off on the field or on stage. By early December, there was nothing left to do but wait. She told herself she wasn’t nervous. She was. ***
The email from the University of Virginia came on a gray afternoon, just after she got home from school. She saw the subject line on her phone and froze halfway up the stairs. “Grace?” Claire called from the kitchen. “Hold on,” she said, already opening it. There was a second—one long, suspended second—where her eyes skimmed too fast to understand. Then she saw it. Congratulations. She let out a sharp, surprised laugh. “Oh my—yes. Yes.” She didn’t sit with it. She didn’t process quietly. She turned and ran back down the stairs. “I got in,” she said, breathless, grinning. “UVA—I got in.” Claire was on her feet immediately, pulling her into a hug. “Grace, that’s wonderful.” Toby looked up from the counter, a slow smile spreading across his face. “That’s a big one.” Grace pulled back, already reaching for her phone. “I have to text—everyone—hold on.” Within seconds: Team group chat Theater group chat A quick message to a friend at Villanova And Nora UVA!!! I’m in!!! The reply came almost instantly: LET’S GO. That’s perfect for you. Grace read it twice, then set the phone down for a second and just stood there, letting it land. “Okay,” she said finally, half to herself. “Okay, that’s… that’s real.” That night, the house felt lighter. Not finished—Grace wasn’t done. Decisions from Notre Dame, Georgetown, and the rest were still weeks away—but something had shifted. She had a place. A real one. A good one. And more than that, she had chosen it first—and it had chosen her back. Later, sitting at the kitchen table with her laptop open again, Grace looked at her list differently. Not as a set of places she had to impress. But as places that now had to measure up to how she felt in that moment. Her eyes moved down the screen—Notre Dame, Georgetown, Boston College, Villanova, Holy Cross, Richmond, Providence… and St. Michael’s. She paused there for a beat, and then she scrolled again. “Okay,” she said quietly, a small smile forming. “Let’s see what else happens.” |
|
|
|
|
03-19-2026, 01:33 PM
|
#233 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
November 7, 2021
The Coaches Classic, First Round The locker room was quiet in a way that didn’t feel normal—not stunned, not angry, just heavy. Shoes were half unlaced, towels hung loose over shoulders, and a few players stared at the floor, replaying possessions they wished they could take back. The score—97–94, overtime—still lingered in the air. Toby Whittaker didn’t come in right away. He gave them a minute. When he did step through the door, he closed it gently behind him and stood there for a moment, taking in the room—Tyrese Coleman still catching his breath, Malcolm Rivers shaking his head, Lucas Moretti staring down at his hands. “No one say a word,” Toby said quietly, and no one did. “We didn’t lose that game because we were the one seed,” he went on. “And we didn’t lose it because they got hot.” A few heads lifted. “We lost it because, down the stretch, we stopped being us.” He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. He talked about rushed possessions, about hunting shots instead of making plays, about abandoning the trust that had carried them. His eyes moved deliberately, landing without accusation but without avoidance. Five turnovers from the point guard. Sixteen shots taken without always seeing the next pass. Not one person singled out, but no one excused, either. “You know what I saw in overtime?” he asked. No one answered. “I saw a team that believed they could beat us. And I saw a team that expected the game to break their way.” He let that sit for a moment. “We don’t expect. We execute.” The tone shifted then—not softer, but steadier, more forward-looking. “This is November,” he said. “Not March. Nobody’s season ended tonight.” There was a subtle release in the room, the first hint of breath returning. “But this is the kind of loss that defines you—if you let it.” He told them they had a choice now: walk out believing they were still the best team, or walk out understanding there was work to do. He spoke to them individually without breaking the collective—acknowledging what had been done well, demanding more where it mattered. To Moretti, that the game lived in his hands, not just the ball. To Rivers, that confidence had to be paired with trust. To Coleman, that effort was the standard. “We don’t run from this,” Toby said. “We learn from it. And we don’t forget how it felt.” He turned toward the door, then paused, just briefly. “They didn’t take anything from us,” he said. “We gave it away.” Then he was gone. The room stayed quiet, but it wasn’t the same quiet. Not empty. Not heavy in quite the same way. Something had shifted—something sharper now, more focused. The kind of silence that comes when a team understands exactly what just happened… and what comes next. Code:
Last edited by MoonlightGraham : 03-19-2026 at 01:35 PM. |
|
|
|
|
03-20-2026, 12:59 PM
|
#234 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
January 5, 2022
Code:
The non-conference schedule didn’t begin the way anyone expected. A season that opened with national title aspirations instead opened with a jolt—an overtime loss to Western Carolina in the Coaches’ Invitational that lingered longer than a single November game usually does. The Saints didn’t just lose; they lost control late, and the result sent them tumbling down the rankings, as low as #22 in the weeks that followed. What followed, though, said more about them than the loss itself. They responded first with clarity. Northwestern and Bucknell were handled cleanly: defensively sharp, offensively patient, the kind of games that felt like a team reestablishing its identity. A road win at Wagner showed composure, and by the time they dismantled Sacred Heart, 90–46, there were signs that the early-season noise had quieted. But the non-conference slate wasn’t built to let them settle comfortably. A trip to top-five Saint Louis brought another test—and another close loss. The Saints led stretches of that game, competed possession-for-possession, but couldn’t quite close it out, falling 82–77. It was the kind of loss that doesn’t hurt your résumé as much as it tests your resolve. “We scheduled this on purpose,” Toby Whittaker said afterward. “If you only play games you’re supposed to win, you learn the wrong lessons. We’re trying to become a team that executes in those moments, not just competes.” From there, the Saints looked more like themselves. They beat Michigan decisively, controlled the tempo against High Point, and took care of business against overmatched opponents without drifting. There was less urgency in their play—not because they didn’t care, but because they trusted the system again. The ball moved. Possessions had shape. The frantic edge from November gave way to something more deliberate. That growth showed most clearly in Spokane. The trip to Gonzaga, late in December, had all the markings of a trap: cross-country travel, hostile environment, a team eager to make a statement. Instead, St. Michael’s delivered one of its most complete performances of the non-conference season, winning 79–63 with control on both ends. They didn’t chase the game. They dictated it. “We’re not trying to prove anything in December,” sophomore guard Malcolm Rivers said afterward. “We’re trying to build something we can trust later. Tonight felt like that.” By the time the Saints closed non-conference play with a comfortable win over Dartmouth, they were 10–2: not perfect, but sharpened. The early stumble hadn’t disappeared, and neither had the close loss at Saint Louis. But those games had done what Toby intended: exposed the gaps, forced adjustments, and hardened a team that no longer looked surprised by adversity. They didn’t leave November behind. They carried it with them—just a little more carefully. |
|
|
|
|
03-23-2026, 07:42 AM
|
#235 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
Early December 2021
The email from the University of Virginia came on a gray afternoon, just after Grace got home. She saw the subject line on her phone halfway up the stairs and stopped cold. “Grace?” Claire called from the kitchen. “Hold on,” she said quickly, already opening it. For a second, her eyes moved too fast. Words without meaning. Then— Congratulations. She blinked. Then let out a sharp, disbelieving laugh. “Oh my—yes. Yes.” She didn’t sit down. Didn’t process. She turned and ran back down the stairs. “I got in,” she said, breathless, already smiling. “UVA—I got in.” Claire was on her feet immediately. “Grace, that’s wonderful.” Toby looked up, a slow smile spreading across his face. “That’s a big one.” “I know—wait, I have to—hold on.” She was already pulling out her phone, thumbs moving fast. “I have to text everyone.” Within seconds, she’d hit three different group chats. Then Nora. UVA!!! I’m in!!! The reply came almost instantly. LET’S GO. That’s perfect for you. Grace read it twice, then set her phone down for a second, like she needed both hands free just to stand there. “Okay,” she said, half to herself. “Okay, that’s… that’s real.” That night, the house felt lighter. Nothing was finished—she knew that. Notre Dame, Georgetown, the rest of her list were still out there, still waiting—but something had shifted. She had a place. A real one. A good one. And more than that, she had chosen it first—and it had chosen her back. Later, sitting at the kitchen table again, laptop open, she looked at her list differently. Not as a set of places she had to prove herself to. But as options. Real ones. Her eyes moved down the screen, lingering for a second on a few names, then moving on. “Okay,” she said quietly, a small smile forming. “Let’s see what else happens.” |
|
|
|
|
03-23-2026, 07:56 AM
|
#236 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
March 2022
If you asked around Elmridge about Saints basketball, sooner or later someone would point you toward Frank “Frankie Tickets” DeLuca. Frank owned a narrow, overstuffed insurance office just off Lancaster Avenue, but that wasn’t why people knew him. They knew him because he hadn’t missed a home game at St. Michael's in fifteen years—and because he talked about the team like he was part of the scouting report. He had seen every game Toby Whittaker had coached at The Pavilion. “Come in, come in,” he’d say, waving you past a desk covered in paperwork and into a chair that had seen better days. “You want to talk about this year? You picked a good one.” He leaned back, hands folded over his still-trim stomach, already smiling. “You don’t judge this season by the record,” Frank said. “You judge it by who they had to become.” He always started there. “Fourteen and two in the league, and still second place? That tells you everything you need to know about this year. St. Bonaventure wasn’t going anywhere. Every time the Saints thought they’d created a little space, Bonaventure answered.” He shook his head, almost admiring it. “Two teams playing chess for two months.” Frank had road-tripped to western New York for the game at St. Bonaventure. “The one on the road? That’s where it turned,” he said, pointing a finger like he was diagramming a play. “Saints had it. Had control. Then one bad stretch—two turnovers, a rushed three, and suddenly you’re chasing. Against a team like that, you don’t get it back easy. And we'd already lost that close one at home to Duquesne. We'd lost our margin for error." But what stuck with him most wasn’t the losses. It was the way the Saints handled the rest of the league. “They didn’t drift,” Frank said. “That’s the thing. A lot of teams, you lose one like that, you drop another game you shouldn’t. Not them.” He ticked it off on his fingers. “Road games at Temple, Duquesne—places that can get weird if you let them. They went in, handled business. Not always pretty, but controlled. That’s maturity.” He leaned forward a little. “You could see it, too. Early in the year, they were still figuring out who they were—rushing, forcing things. By February? They trusted each other. The ball moved. Possessions had purpose.” Frank smiled, softer now. “Tyrese Coleman,” he said, almost to himself. “That kid changed everything inside. You could feel it in the building—every time someone drove, they knew he was back there.” Then he laughed. “And [Malcolm] Rivers? [Sal] Lavin? They’d shoot from the parking lot if you let them. But you live with it, because when they're right, the whole gym feels it.” He sat back again, letting it settle. “Here’s the thing people miss,” Frank said. “They say, ‘Ah, second place.’ Like that’s a disappointment.” He shook his head. “That league was a war. And the Saints? They didn’t blink. They just… didn’t quite get the last inch.” A pause. “But I’ll tell you this,” he added, pointing again, more gently this time. “You come out of a season like that? You’re ready for March. Because nothing you see then is going to surprise you.” Frank leaned back, satisfied. “That team didn’t win the league,” he said. “But they became the kind of team that knows how to win...right at tournament time." Code:
|
|
|
|
|
03-23-2026, 08:10 AM
|
#237 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
March 13, 2022
Code:
The bracket opened up in a way no one quite expected. When St. Bonaventure—the Saints’ co-champion and season-long rival—fell to La Salle, 69–68, in the first round of the Mid-Atlantic Tournament, it sent a ripple through the field. The anticipated collision never came. For St. Michael's, the path changed overnight. But the responsibility didn’t. As assistant Tom Reilly put it quietly before the quarterfinal: “Now there’s no one to blame but ourselves.” The Saints opened against Penn State and wasted no time asserting control. The game was effectively over by halftime, a 93–57 dismantling executed by a team determined to remove any doubt early. The ball moved crisply, the defense dictated pace, and for the first time all week, everything felt simple. At the center of it was Lucas Moretti. The freshman point guard had taken his share of bumps during the season—moments where the game sped up on him, possessions that got away—but against Penn State, he was sharp, controlled, and confident. He scored 20 points, not forcing the game but stepping into it, picking his spots and finishing possessions that earlier in the year might have slipped away. It wasn’t just production. It was command: especially for a freshman. The semifinal against Duquesne was a different kind of test. Duquesne had the profile of a team that could disrupt rhythm—physical, disciplined, comfortable in the half court. For stretches, they did exactly that. The game slowed. Possessions stretched. Nothing came easily. That’s where Moretti showed his growth. He didn’t chase the game. He managed it. Sixteen points, six assists—but more than that, control. He got the Saints into their sets, made the extra pass when it was there, and resisted the urge to speed things up when Duquesne tried to drag them into a grind. By the second half, St. Michael’s had created just enough separation to pull away, 73–52, the margin reflecting patience as much as talent. “He’s learning when to let the game breathe,” Toby Whittaker said afterward. “That’s a sign of his growth.” The championship game against Temple was something else entirely. No rhythm. No flow. Just possession after possession of resistance. The Saints didn’t shoot well. Temple didn’t either. Every point felt earned, every mistake magnified. It was the kind of game that, two months earlier, St. Michael’s might have lost—rushed, frustrated, searching for a single play to break it open. This time, they didn’t. They defended. They rebounded. They stayed patient, even when the game refused to open up. And when it mattered, they made just enough plays to survive, grinding out a 48–44 win that left both teams battered. When the final horn sounded, there wasn’t an explosion of relief so much as a recognition. This was who they had become. They never got the showdown with St. Bonaventure. That storyline disappeared the moment La Salle pulled the upset. But in some ways, it didn’t matter. Because over three days, the Saints showed something just as important: they could dominate when they were better, control when things got uncomfortable, and endure when nothing came easy. They didn’t win the tournament the way people expected. They won it the way mature teams do—and with a freshman point guard starting to look like he belonged in the middle of it. ***
Justin Manning celebrated the victory with a walking boot, his left ankle painfully twisted late in the second half as he came down with his twelfth rebound of the game. His status for the NCAA tournament was listed as day-to-day...for everyone but Justin. "I'm playing," he declared. "I'm a senior. It's not a question." Last edited by MoonlightGraham : 03-23-2026 at 08:12 AM. |
|
|
|
|
03-23-2026, 08:37 AM
|
#238 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
March 18, 2022
The St. Michael’s Sentinel Rivers’ 46 Leads Saints Past Texas-Arlington in NCAA Opener By Daniel Kessler, Sentinel Sports Staff For about five minutes, it looked like a normal first-round game. Then Malcolm Rivers got going. And it stopped being normal. Rivers scored 46 points as St. Michael's defeated Texas-Arlington 105–65 on Thursday night, opening NCAA Tournament play with a performance that was as decisive as it was efficient. The second-year guard shot 17-of-24 from the field and 9-of-15 from three, setting the tone early and never really letting Texas-Arlington back into the game. Rivers' performance places him second on the Saints' all-time single game scoring leaderboard. Colton Reddick holds the record with 50 points, established in 2018. “It just felt like everything was in rhythm,” Rivers said. “We were moving the ball, and I was getting open looks.” Fast Start, No Let-Up The Saints didn’t need a dramatic run to take control—they built it steadily. After a relatively even opening stretch, St. Michael’s began to separate midway through the first half, using balanced scoring and consistent ball movement to create good shots. By halftime, the lead had grown to a comfortable margin, and the second half only widened the gap. Freshman point guard Lucas Moretti continued his strong postseason play, finishing with 12 points and 7 assists. Moretti controlled the pace and kept the offense organized, something head coach Toby Whittaker emphasized afterward. “He’s settling into the role,” Whittaker said. “He doesn’t have to do everything—he just has to run the team.” Moretti agreed. “I’m just trying to make the right play,” he said. “We have a lot of guys who can score.” Defense Sets the Tone While Rivers’ scoring grabbed attention, the Saints’ defense played a major role in the outcome. St. Michael’s recorded 10 blocks, including four from Tyler Grant, and limited Texas-Arlington to 7-of-25 shooting from three-point range. The Mavericks struggled to find consistent offense, particularly inside, where Tyrese Coleman and Justin Manning controlled the paint. Manning showed no ill effects from the twisted ankle he suffered during the Mid-Atlantic Conference championship game last week. Texas-Arlington was led by Dallas Breen, who scored 18 points, but no other player reached 15. A Complete Effort The Saints shot 16-of-29 from three as a team and assisted on many of their baskets, reflecting the kind of offensive balance they’ve developed late in the season. Sal Lavin added 13 points, while Coleman and Manning each contributed 9. “We played the way we’re supposed to play,” Whittaker said. “Shared the ball, defended, stayed disciplined.” Looking Ahead With the win, St. Michael’s advances to the second round, where the competition will likely tighten. The Saints entered the tournament as a No. 3 seed after finishing second in the Mid-Atlantic Conference, and Friday’s performance reinforced why they remain a contender. Still, players were quick to keep the result in perspective. “It’s one game,” Moretti said. “We did what we needed to do. Now we move on.” For one night, though, it was hard to ignore. Not just the margin. But the way it happened. Code:
|
|
|
|
|
03-23-2026, 08:48 AM
|
#239 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
The locker room had mostly cleared out by the time Daniel Kessler found a corner near Justin Manning’s locker.
The noise had thinned to the usual postgame sounds—showers running, a couple of guys laughing across the room, the low murmur of equipment being packed away. Daniel flipped to a clean page in his notebook, clicked his pen once, and stepped in. “Justin—do you have a minute?” Manning looked up, still catching his breath, jersey half untucked. “Yeah, I got you.” Daniel nodded. “How did that game feel from your end? Especially defensively?” Manning leaned back slightly, thinking. “We were locked in early. That was the big thing. We didn’t let them get comfortable inside, and once we did that, everything else kind of followed.” Daniel scribbled quickly, then asked, “You and Tyrese seemed to control the paint. Was that something you emphasized coming in?” “Yeah,” Manning said. “We knew if we took that away, they’d have to settle. And once they start settling, we can run.” He paused for a second, glancing at the lanyard hanging around the reporter's neck. At the name written at the top of the card attached to it. Kessler. Manning frowned slightly. “Wait,” he said. Daniel looked up. “Yeah?” “Your name's Kessler?” Manning asked. Daniel nodded once. “Yeah.” Manning stared at him for a second longer, then let out a short laugh, almost surprised. “No way,” he said. “Like—is your dad that Kessler?” Daniel gave the same small shrug he always did. “Yeah. That’s my dad.” Justin shook his head, smiling now, the recognition clicking into place in a different way than it might have for someone else. “Man, I grew up listening to him,” he said. “My dad used to have the games on in the car all the time. Like—every time.” Daniel smiled a little at that, but didn’t lean into it. “Yeah, I’ve heard that before.” Justin studied him for another second, like he was trying to line up the voice he’d heard for years with the person standing in front of him. Then he nodded once, satisfied. “That’s crazy,” he said. Daniel glanced back down at his notes. “So—defensively,” he said, picking right back up, “when they tried to stretch you out, how did you adjust?” Manning blinked, then smiled again, smaller this time. “We just stayed disciplined,” he said. “Didn’t try to do too much.” And just like that, the moment passed. Same rhythm. Same questions. Only now, every so often, Manning’s eyes flicked back to the card hanging around Daniel's neck...just to make sure. *** Daniel Kessler, Jr. was the son of Dan Kessler, the iconic radio Voice of the Saints. In spring 2022, he was a junior, majoring in history and writing about men's basketball and campus life for the Sentinel. Daniel graduated from St. Michael's College School in 2019. His date for Homecoming his sophomore year was a pretty freshman named Nora Whittaker. It was Nora's first date. |
|
|
|
|
03-23-2026, 11:57 AM
|
#240 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
March 21, 2022
The St. Michael's Sentinel Saints Survive Tulsa, Advance to Sweet 16 Behind Lavin’s 25 By Daniel Kessler, Staff Writer For stretches on Saturday night, it didn’t look like the same team. Shots didn’t fall as easily. Possessions stretched longer. The rhythm that carried St. Michael's through its first-round win never quite settled in. And still, they won. Behind 25 points from Sal Lavin, the Saints held off No. 7 seed Tulsa, 65–62, in the second round of the NCAA Tournament, advancing to the Sweet 16 in a game that required more patience than precision. “It wasn’t pretty,” Lavin said. “But we stayed with it.” A Different Kind of Game Two days after scoring 105 points, St. Michael’s found itself in a much tighter contest. Tulsa slowed the game early, limiting transition opportunities and forcing the Saints into half-court sets. Denver Ellis led the Golden Hurricane with 22 points, including six three-pointers, and kept Tulsa within reach throughout. The Saints never built a comfortable margin. Every small run was answered. Every possession carried weight. “We knew it wasn’t going to look like the last game,” head coach Toby Whittaker said. “This time of year, you have to be able to win different ways.” Lavin Provides the Offense When the Saints needed scoring, they turned to Lavin. The junior wing shot 9-of-18 from the field and 7-of-14 from three, accounting for a significant portion of the team’s offense in a game where clean looks were harder to find. Several of his baskets came at key moments, preventing Tulsa from gaining momentum. “He kept us steady,” freshman guard Lucas Moretti said. “Every time it felt like they were about to make a push, he answered.” Moretti finished with 5 points and 5 assists, continuing to manage the offense despite increased pressure. Malcolm Rivers, coming off a 46-point performance in the first round, was held to 11 points on 4-of-12 shooting. Sophomore Dudley Flower added 10 points in 19 minutes, continuing his role as an impact scorer on the Saints' second unit. Defense and Rebounding With offense harder to come by, the Saints relied on defense and rebounding to close the game. Tyrese Coleman and Justin Manning combined for 15 rebounds, helping limit second-chance opportunities. Tyler Grant added four rebounds and two blocks in limited minutes, while the team collectively held Tulsa to 10-of-29 from three-point range. Still, Tulsa had chances late. A three-pointer by Ellis cut the lead to three in the final minute, and the Golden Hurricane had an opportunity to tie in the closing seconds. The Saints forced a contested look, and the shot missed, securing the win. Moving Forward The contrast between Thursday and Saturday was clear. One game opened quickly. The other never did. But both ended the same way. “We didn’t play our best,” Moretti said. “But we stayed together, and we got it done.” For a team that has spent much of the season learning how to manage games like this, that may matter more than the margin. The Saints will face tougher tests ahead. They know that. After Saturday night, they also know something else: They can win when things don’t come easily. Code:
|
|
|
|
|
03-23-2026, 12:07 PM
|
#241 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
March 25, 2022
The St. Michael's Sentinel Lavin’s 35 Sends Saints Past Marquette, Back to Elite Eight By Daniel Kessler, Staff Writer This one never really settled. It wasn’t like the first round, when everything came easily. It wasn’t like Tulsa, either, where every possession felt tight and controlled. Friday night lived somewhere in between—fast, physical, and just unstable enough that no lead felt permanent. And in the middle of it, Sal Lavin took over. Lavin scored 35 points as St. Michael's defeated No. 3 seed Marquette 93–84 in the Sweet Sixteen, sending the Saints back to the Elite Eight—another step deep into March for a program that has come to expect it. “It was just there tonight,” Lavin said. “I wasn’t trying to force anything. I just stayed aggressive.” A Game That Didn’t Slow Down From the opening minutes, the pace felt different. Marquette came in comfortable playing fast and wasn’t interested in adjusting. The Saints matched it. Possessions shortened. Shots came earlier in the clock. Both teams found rhythm, and neither gave much ground. Marquette placed multiple players in double figures, getting balanced scoring throughout the lineup. Every time St. Michael’s looked ready to stretch the lead, Marquette answered. “We knew they weren’t going to go away,” head coach Toby Whittaker said. “That’s what good teams do this time of year.” Lavin Leads the Way In a game where scoring came from both sides, Lavin stood out. He shot 12-of-20 from the field and 8-of-13 from three, repeatedly finding space along the perimeter and converting when the Saints needed it most. His scoring came in stretches that steadied the team—late in the first half, again midway through the second, and finally in the closing minutes as Marquette pushed to cut into the lead. “He gave us a lot of answers,” freshman guard Lucas Moretti said. “When things started to get tight, we could go to him and know something good was going to happen.” Support Around Him Lavin wasn’t alone. Moretti delivered one of his most complete performances of the tournament, scoring 17 points on 5-of-8 shooting and hitting all four of his free throws. His ability to attack when the defense shifted toward Lavin added balance to the offense. Malcolm Rivers added 15 points and three assists, while Tyrese Coleman contributed 12 points, six rebounds, and two blocks, anchoring the defense in key stretches. As a team, the Saints shot 17-of-35 from three-point range and committed just eight turnovers—numbers that reflected both efficiency and control in a game that could have easily slipped into chaos. Closing It Out The difference came in the final minutes. Marquette cut the lead to single digits more than once in the second half, but never fully closed the gap. Each time, St. Michael’s responded—with a three, a defensive stop, or a controlled possession that ended at the free throw line. “We didn’t panic,” Moretti said. “That was the biggest thing. We stayed with what we do.” That composure has become familiar for this group—built through a national championship in 2020 and a Final Four run last season, and reinforced over the course of this year. Moving On With the win, St. Michael’s advances to the Elite Eight once again, continuing a stretch of March success that now feels like part of the program’s identity rather than an exception. The path hasn’t looked the same each game. But the result has. “We’re still playing,” Whittaker said. “That’s what matters.” On a night when both teams played at a high level, the difference came down to execution—and one player who, for long stretches, simply couldn’t be guarded. For St. Michael’s, that was enough. Code:
|
|
|
|
|
03-23-2026, 01:19 PM
|
#242 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
March 28, 2022
The St. Michael's Sentinel Short-Handed Saints Fall to Saint Louis in Elite Eight Rematch By Daniel Kessler, Staff Writer The matchup felt familiar. Same opponent. Same tension. Same sense that every possession mattered a little more than usual. But this time, something was missing. Senior forward Justin Manning—one of the Saints’ most consistent interior presences—watched from the sideline, the ankle injury he suffered in the conference tournament finally forcing him out of the lineup. And in a game that came down to control, physicality, and small margins, that absence showed. In a rematch of their December meeting, St. Michael's fell to top-seeded Saint Louis 69–61 in the Elite Eight on Sunday, ending the Saints’ tournament run one game short of the Final Four. “It was the same kind of game,” head coach Toby Whittaker said. “And the same kind of lessons.” A Different Rotation, Same Pressure Without Manning, the Saints adjusted their frontcourt rotation, asking more from Tyler Grant and the bench. Grant responded defensively—blocking 10 shots and helping anchor a unit that kept Saint Louis from pulling away—but the overall balance wasn’t quite the same. Manning’s absence wasn’t just about numbers. It was about stability. “He does a lot for us that doesn’t always show up,” sophomore guard Dudley Flower said. “Rebounding, talking, being in the right spot. You feel that when it’s not there.” Turnovers Shift the Game When the teams met in December, Saint Louis controlled key stretches with defense and execution late. Sunday followed a similar script. The Saints committed 19 turnovers, many of them unforced, as Saint Louis pressured passing lanes and forced rushed decisions. The Billikens turned those opportunities into extra possessions and transition chances, finishing with 10 steals. “We just didn’t value it enough,” Flower said. “Against a team like that, you can’t give them extra chances.” Even when St. Michael’s found good looks, those empty possessions added up. Defense Holds, Offense Strains Despite the turnovers, the Saints stayed within reach for much of the game. They blocked 13 shots, controlled stretches defensively, and limited Saint Louis to 5-of-17 from three-point range. Tyrese Coleman pulled down 13 rebounds, helping hold the line inside, while Grant’s presence altered multiple shots around the rim. The seven-foot junior's 10 blocks tied a Saints record that had stood, unmatched, since 1999. For long stretches, it felt like the game was still there. “We were getting stops,” Flower said. “That’s why it’s frustrating. We just couldn’t convert enough on the other end.” Lavin Leads Again As he had throughout the tournament, Sal Lavin carried the offensive load. The junior forward scored 18 points on 7-of-14 shooting, providing steady production in a game where rhythm was difficult to sustain. Dudley Flower added 7 points off the bench, while others contributed in smaller stretches. But the Saints never found sustained flow. Malcolm Rivers was limited to 4 points on 1-of-8 shooting, and the offense never fully recovered from the turnovers that disrupted it throughout the game. The Margin The Saints remained close into the second half, but each push was answered. A three-pointer from Forest Lang extended the lead. A defensive stop turned into a quick score. The gap never grew out of reach—but it never fully closed, either. “We were right there,” Flower said. “Just didn’t make enough plays in those moments.” Looking Back For a program that won the national championship in 2020 and reached the Final Four last season, the expectations are clear. Saturday’s result doesn’t change that. But it reinforces how narrow the margin can be. “This is what it looks like,” Whittaker said. “You can defend. You can rebound. But if you don’t take care of the ball, it catches up with you.” The Saints finished the season 30–5, navigating a demanding schedule and another deep postseason run. They were close again. Just not close enough. What Remains In the locker room afterward, the tone was quiet but steady. This group has been deep into March before. They understand what it takes—and how small the difference can be. “We’ll remember this,” Flower said. “That’s part of it. You don’t forget games like this.” For St. Michael’s, the standard hasn’t changed. If anything, it’s been reinforced. Code:
|
|
|
|
|
03-23-2026, 02:00 PM
|
#243 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
The day after Houston defeated Kentucky to win the national championship, Malcolm Rivers and Sal Lavin announced their intentions to enter the professional draft.
Lavin, a junior, had improved his draft stock significantly by playing a third year at St. Michael's. Sal was now assumed to be a lottery pick. Sophomore Rivers had long been considered a two-and-through. Code:
When you're the consensus #1 high school recruit in the nation, people almost expect you to be a freshman All-American. Tyrese Coleman lived up to those expectations. Villanova's Kevin McClellan was once a top Saints recruiting target. He turned out to be a very good college player, a four-year man who kept getting better each year. Code:
Two more honors for Tyrese, and a well-deserved All-Conference recognition for Malcolm Rivers. All five St. Bonaventure starters earned post-season honors. You start to see how Toby won another Coach of the Year plaque, after having to compete against all those Bonnies stars. Code:
This year's Saints were one of the best defensive teams of the Whittaker era, if not the best of all. Code:
Code:
Code:
As expected, this year's Saints were deep and talented, and they almost got to play in April. Last edited by MoonlightGraham : 03-23-2026 at 04:16 PM. |
|
|
|
|
03-23-2026, 03:12 PM
|
#244 |
|
Dark Cloud
Join Date: Apr 2001
|
do you mod your FBCB.ini at all or are you playing with the stock game settings?
__________________
Current dynasty: Playtesting chaos (Viperball 26) | OOTP Mod: Managerial Strategy Files | GM Excel Competitive Balance Tax/Revenue Sharing Calc | FBCB Mods on Github |
|
|
|
|
03-23-2026, 06:36 PM
|
#245 | |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
Quote:
I'm using the stock game settings. I wouldn't know how to go about modding the .ini file. I've made very few changes to my universe. I added some college teams from New England and the Mid-Atlantic region, including my fictional St. Michael's College. I put a number of high schools into the pool, too. Most of them are private schools from the East and Midwest, but I've also added public schools that have recently opened in the Eastern states I'm most familiar with. Thanks for stopping by! |
|
|
|
|
|
03-23-2026, 07:26 PM
|
#246 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
April 9, 2022
Three Saints heard their names called on Draft Night. I'm almost positive this has never happened before; if it has, it was long before I began writing about the program. Sal Lavin's performance in the NCAA tournament probably earned him millions of dollars. It certainly earned him a spot in the lottery; he was drafted 8th overall. And, perhaps just as significantly, Sal had successfully completed three years' worth of course work at St. Michael's, majoring in Political Science. He promised his family he would complete his degree. Joining him in the first round was Malcolm Rivers, taken with the #22 pick. Two years ago, Justin Manning said "I'll never be a pro" when he was describing his role in the Saints program: a hard-working reserve who helped toughen more talented players and prepare them to face the best big men in the nation. But by his senior year, Justin was a starter, and tonight, he became a professional draft choice. Justin sobbed with joy when he learned he was chosen at #51. Code:
It's hard to win the recruiting ranking battle when your incoming class is only two players. Toby was very pleased with how prepared for college ball Jordan Hayes and Ari Ben-David seemed to be. St. Bonaventure's Drew Hardison, the nation's top recruit, looks just as ready. Code:
This is the best recruiting performance, top to bottom, the Mid-Atlantic has ever seen. St. Michael's had Ethan O'Connell and Chase Eldridge on their call list, and offered O'Connell a scholarship early in the recruiting cycle. |
|
|
|
|
03-23-2026, 07:49 PM
|
#247 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
April 30 and May 1, 2022
Grace Decides April 30 didn’t feel like a deadline at first. It felt like a long day that wouldn’t quite start. Grace moved through it without urgency—late breakfast, a quick scroll through her phone, a few texts she didn’t answer. Everyone else seemed to know what day it was. She did too. She just wasn’t ready to act like it yet. Her laptop sat open on the kitchen table, the spreadsheet still there—columns, notes, careful comparisons that had once felt useful and now felt… irrelevant. Across the top were the names she’d been living with for weeks: University of Virginia University of Notre Dame Georgetown University Boston College Villanova University St. Michael's College All good. All real. That was the problem. Claire sat nearby, giving her space without leaving the room. “You don’t have to decide today,” she said at one point. Grace looked up. “I kind of do.” Claire smiled gently. “You have to decide by tomorrow.” Grace leaned back. “That’s worse.” ***
Toby passed through later, on his way out, keys already in hand. “You still working through it?” he asked. “Define 'working,'” Grace said. He nodded, like that was fair. Then, more quietly: “You don’t owe this place anything.” Grace met his eyes. “I know.” “I’m not saying that so you don’t pick it,” he added. “Just so you’re clear.” “I know that too.” He held her gaze for a second, then gave a small nod and left. ***
That night, Nora called. “Okay,” she said immediately. “Where are you?” “Physically or emotionally?” Grace asked. “Emotionally. Obviously.” Grace hesitated, then said it. “I keep going back to the same two.” “Which are?” “UVA… and Notre Dame.” Nora let that sit. “Those are very different.” “I know.” A pause. “Which one feels more like you?” Nora asked. Grace didn’t answer right away. “I don’t know,” she said finally. “That’s the problem.” ***
Later, when the house had gone quiet, Grace stepped outside. Fox Hollow at night didn’t ask anything of you. No noise, no movement—just space to think. She sat on the front steps and let everything come back. Charlottesville—the energy, the openness, the feeling that she could step into something new. Notre Dame—the familiarity, the meaning, the pull of something already connected to her life. She’d been saying it all year: I can actually see myself there. But sitting there, she realized something. Seeing it wasn’t the same as choosing it. ***
When she went back inside, Claire was still awake. Grace stood in the doorway for a second. “I think I know,” she said. Claire didn’t move. “Okay.” “I just needed it to feel like my decision,” Grace said. “Not the obvious one. Not the safe one.” “And now it does?” Grace nodded. “Yeah.” ***
Sunday morning was quiet. Not dramatic. Not tense. Just still. Grace woke up early, sunlight already in the room, and lay there for a minute before reaching for her phone. Messages were waiting: Did you decide??? Today’s the day 👀 UVA?? Notre Dame?? She smiled, but didn’t answer. ***
Downstairs, the house had that slow Sunday rhythm. Coffee made. Claire at the counter. Toby at the table, paper in hand but unread. They looked up when she walked in. “Morning,” Claire said. “Morning.” Grace poured a glass of water, leaned against the counter, and let the quiet stretch just a little longer. Then: “I decided.” Claire set her cup down. Toby lowered the paper. “Okay,” he said. Grace smiled, small and a little disbelieving. “I’m going to Virginia." For a moment, no one moved. Then Claire crossed the room and hugged her. “That’s wonderful.” Toby smiled, steady and certain. “That fits you.” Grace exhaled. “Yeah,” she said. “I think so too.” ***
She didn’t announce it right away. Not yet. Instead, she walked back to the table, opened her laptop, and pulled up the portal. The page looked exactly the same as it had for weeks. Same message. Same button. Accept Admission She stared at it. All the thinking, all the conversations, all the circling—it all narrowed down to this. Her hand hovered over the trackpad. For a second, everything else passed through again. Then it cleared. “Okay,” she said quietly. She clicked. The page refreshed. A confirmation message appeared—simple, almost anticlimactic. But something shifted anyway. Grace leaned back in her chair and let it settle. No second-guessing. No reopening the list. Just the quiet realization: It was done. A minute later, she picked up her phone. UVA. I’m going. She hit "send." And this time, it felt real. |
|
|
|
|
03-23-2026, 09:58 PM
|
#248 |
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
I want to step out of character for a moment to thank all of you who have taken the time to click on my dynasty and read my posts, most of whom are still anonymous to me.
I'm flattered by the fact that my thread has been viewed 17,757 times since I started writing it last August. That's not a particularly large total--my Graham Sims story has over 120,000 views--but I know this dynasty is unlike many of the others I've read here. A few very talented storytellers wrote dynasty stories on the Out of the Park Baseball forums that I enjoyed reading very much. The Base Ball Life of Patrick O'Farrell and Robert J. "Bubba" Jones are, in many ways, my inspiration for writing this kind of tale. Both writers created worlds around their protagonists and their exploits within OOTP. If my effort is half as good as theirs were, I'm happy. I've had an incredible amount of fun creating Toby Whittaker's world. Making it come to life has made me feel a level of connection to my dynasty that I've never felt before. I've often found myself losing interest in my long-running saves, but I'm enjoying the Whittaker family, St. Michael's, and the Elmridge community so much I can't imagine setting this story aside until its natural ending comes along. Toby won't coach forever, after all. I hope Toby's story has brought some of you joy. I've had a blast writing it, and I can't wait to see what happens next.  |
|
|
|
|
03-24-2026, 12:05 AM
|
#249 |
|
Dark Cloud
Join Date: Apr 2001
|
This has been a staple so long around here, it's been stellar to see you able to keep up with it for so long.
Congrats on the Virgnia job, I think it was long about time for him to test his powers at the higher level!
__________________
Current dynasty: Playtesting chaos (Viperball 26) | OOTP Mod: Managerial Strategy Files | GM Excel Competitive Balance Tax/Revenue Sharing Calc | FBCB Mods on Github |
|
|
|
|
03-24-2026, 08:14 AM
|
#250 | ||
|
College Prospect
Join Date: Sep 2022
|
Quote:
Thanks very much! I've had lots of fun creating the world behind my dynasty. It's kept me engaged with the story, because there are so many things going on besides the action taking place in my FBCB game. The game remains the engine that drives the story, but I'm enjoying filling out the world around Coach Whittaker and the Saints program. Quote:
Thanks, but Toby isn't leaving St. Michael's for Virginia. His daughter, Grace, will be a first year student there in the fall of 2022. My universe began in 1960. I quick-simmed almost 50 years before I created my player-coach, so there would be some history in place. That history doesn't always fit neatly with the actual history of Division I basketball. For example, here are the 25 winningest programs in my universe's history: Code:
Most of these teams are powerhouse programs in "real" college basketball, but you also see Saint Louis among the top ten. Here are the 25 teams with the most conference championships: Code:
Toby Whittaker coached 12 of those regular season champions and 10 of the tournament winners. St. Michael's began as a member of the Centennial Conference, a home-made mid-major league. For several reasons, I realigned the conferences in my world before the 2013/14 season. I wanted to return the legacy conferences I grew up with, so I recreated the world of college basketball so it looked more like it did in the early 1990s. St. Michael's had outgrown the Centennial Conference, with a Prestige of 84 that was almost twice as high as any other team in the league. Putting the Saints in the new Mid-Atlantic Conference, with teams such as Temple, St. Bonaventure, Pitt, and La Salle, made sense. Now the Saints, with a Prestige of 100, are among the elite programs in the country. Here are all the teams that currently have Prestige of 90 or higher: Code:
Let's look at the ACC's Prestige. Code:
Virginia's Prestige has never been higher than 71. Terry Holland and Tony Bennett aren't part of our story. So, even if Toby weren't a Saints alumnus, he wouldn't leave St. Michael's for UVA. He and Claire will proudly send their daughter to school there, but unless he wanted to undertake a rebuilding project, he won't coach there. |
||
|
|
|
 |
| Currently Active Users Viewing This Thread: 6 (0 members and 6 guests) | |
| Thread Tools | |
|
|
