You should watch to the end, because that’s what you did around Hot Rod Hundley. You watched and listened, for as long as he was willing to go. Such a kind and fun man, and such a loss. I’ll never forget that, and I think that’s one of the best, most authentic and most excited responses I’ve ever heard in the Coliseum. An unforgettable moment from an unforgettable guy.

“For him to top it off in making the shot showed how much of a showman he really is and how good he was,” Wells said. “I don’t think Rod had any doubt he would make it.”

Nearman, himself a Charleston hoops great who played at North Carolina from 1947-50, couldn’t help but talk about that moment when reminiscing about Hundley.

“There was no indication he could make it,” Nearman said. “He was in a full suit and he was really far away from where he would’ve taken that shot during a game, but that’s Rod. That’s always been our Hot Rod.”

There was a brief moment of silence and melancholy, but it was fleeting. Always has been when it comes to Hundley. Always will be.

“I’m still laughing,” Nearman said. “I’m laughing because I know what he felt right at that moment.”

I’m not sure how to articulate this, and that’s no doubt why I haven’t yet, but Daxter Miles was nearly dragged to The Hague for a bit of bravado before the Kentucky loss. Can you fathom what Rod Hundley would have done in today’s era?

There was no bigger showboat during his time, and truly there weren’t many better players either, which matters, but his life and his passing Friday probably ought to be a reminder that these are games spirits are not to be deflated.

He was an amazing ball-handler, dribbling and passing behind his back, rolling the ball up and down his long arms across his back from one to the other. The basketball was a con man’s shell game to Hundley, now you see it, now you don’t, and he would drive his coach, Fred Schaus, crazy with what he did.

If WVU was winning, Schaus enjoyed the act, seeing him shoot from his knees or, as he was about to break the Southern Conference scoring record with a pair of free throws, he shot them behind his back — not at all bothered by the fact that neither came close.

The roar of the crowd meant more to him than any record.

Myron Cope, then a Pittsburgh sportswriter but later the color commentator on Pittsburgh Steelers games with the legendary Jack Fleming, came out to see Hundley in the second game of his varsity career after he become a freshman legend with his antics in a game at Carnegie Tech.

He would write that day that Hundley was the first player he had ever seen acknowledge applause.
Hundley lived for such moments.

There was a game against Pitt, well in hand with Hundley now out, when he wanted to get back in to play. He asked Schaus to put him in but Schaus refused, so he went to the end of the bench and started encouraging the fans to chant “We Want Hundley! We Want Hundley!”

The chant soon had gone through the whole crowd. Schaus sat there, trying to hide behind the program he held in his hands, but the smile he was wearing was seen by Hundley, who approached.

“I got up and walked down and sat right beside him,” Hundley explained. “I said, ‘Coach, there are a lot of people here tonight, aren’t there?’ He said, ‘Yeah.’ I said, ‘What do you think they came to see, this game or the show?’ He said, ‘Go on in and don’t get hurt!’”

Such was Rod Hundley.