SpringfieldNewsSun.com

DAYTON — Nothing made my heart race faster in the mid-1960s than a competitive game of basketball.

As a Catholic growing up in the Miami Valley, the University of Dayton was unquestionably my team and 7'2" center Henry Finkel, the player I loved to watch. Hey, I was 11 years old.

My dad worked nights, so I seldom got to attend basketball games, but just once a gift of tickets from my Uncle Bill Wysinski gleaned us seats high in the stands of the old fieldhouse in 1965. Dad wasn't feeling well, but he took me to the game anyway.

I had a mission.

I made my way to the fieldhouse floor as the half-time buzzer rang ending the first half of the game, then parked myself in front of the locker room door. Omar Williams must have seen me standing there anxiously, autograph book in hand.

When the U of D basketball team exited the locker room for the second half, I stepped right in front of Finkel. He nearly ran me down.

"Autograph," was all I could say to the player who towered above me.

Finkel's response, "Not now kid."

My heart sank like a deflated basketball.

By the time Finkel reached the court, Williams had tapped me on the shoulder and explained that the coach didn't allow players to sign autographs with warm-up about to begin.

"You want them to win, right?" Williams asked me. "A true fan would want the team to stay focused."

I don't remember who U of D played that night, or if the team won. I will always remember the kindness Omar Williams showed to this Dayton kid.

Contact this reporter at (937) 225-2362 or josmith@DaytonDailyNews.com.

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