I remember staying up late into the night back in 1996 when Greg Buckner took that sweet pass from Harold Jamison and jammed it home to beat the Tar Heels in the ACC Tournament. I remember thinking I could not let the moment pass without sharing it with my Dad, knowing full well he would be sound asleep. So I called him, woke him, up gave him by best play by play, and we both had a great bonding moment. Fast forward to last night. Against my instincts, I did indeed stay up for the game. (I am one of “those people” who believe I bring bad mojo to the team if I watch.) Nonetheless, the Tigers overcame and did us all proud. Seconds after the final gun, I got a call from my older son, who’s in school in Boston but as big a Tiger fan as anybody around here. He just had to talk it over with the old man. (That would be me.) My Dad would have been 61 in ’96. I’m not there yet, but I’m close enough to appreciate the poignance of the two moments, 22 years apart – not to mention a little rapid time passage anxiety! And it certainly brought home how these silly games can serve as more than just skin deep entertainment for us. Thanks, DBN. Miss you, Dad. Go Tigers!