Memories of Skip Prosser
I did not know Skip Prosser, but I was a member of his family.
I did not know Skip Prosser, but that didn't diminish my opinion of him.
I did not know Skip Prosser, but news of his death Thursday shocked and saddened me as though I did.
To say I did not know Coach Prosser was to say that I never had a real opportunity to meet him. But that's not to say I never came in contact with him. As a former student at Wake Forest, I would see him around campus, always with a smile on his face, always upbeat. He would acknowledge me as our paths crossed, even though we didn't know one another, because to him, I was a student at his school, and that was good enough for Coach P.
I didn't know much about Prosser when I enrolled at Wake, other than that he knew his basketball. The first time I heard him speak was at a gathering of the Screamin' Demons, the student ticket and fan organization for basketball and football at the university. It was largely due to Coach Prosser that the program became as successful as it is today. He is the reason a school of only 4,300 undergraduates can have one of the best home court advantages in college basketball, comparable to that of schools with 10 times as many students. It is through this program that my finest memories of him come.
I remember Coach Prosser speaking to the packed gym at that first meeting of the year in the fall. He made the students feel like they were part of the team. "This is your team," he told us. He meant it.
I did not know Skip Prosser, but that didn't diminish my opinion of him.
I did not know Skip Prosser, but news of his death Thursday shocked and saddened me as though I did.
To say I did not know Coach Prosser was to say that I never had a real opportunity to meet him. But that's not to say I never came in contact with him. As a former student at Wake Forest, I would see him around campus, always with a smile on his face, always upbeat. He would acknowledge me as our paths crossed, even though we didn't know one another, because to him, I was a student at his school, and that was good enough for Coach P.
I didn't know much about Prosser when I enrolled at Wake, other than that he knew his basketball. The first time I heard him speak was at a gathering of the Screamin' Demons, the student ticket and fan organization for basketball and football at the university. It was largely due to Coach Prosser that the program became as successful as it is today. He is the reason a school of only 4,300 undergraduates can have one of the best home court advantages in college basketball, comparable to that of schools with 10 times as many students. It is through this program that my finest memories of him come.
I remember Coach Prosser speaking to the packed gym at that first meeting of the year in the fall. He made the students feel like they were part of the team. "This is your team," he told us. He meant it.
Before virtually every game, an e-mail would arrive in my Inbox from Coach P. Sometimes it would be a scouting report on that night's opponent. Sometimes, if the team had recently suffered a loss or two, it would be a pledge to keep working to represent the students and the university in a first class way. Sometimes it would just be a reminder to show up and support the team. His team. Our team.
Skip Prosser cared. He cared about his family, his players, his coaches. He cared about students, about the university, about people.
Professor and writer Leo Buscaglia once said, "Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around."
Skip Prosser never underestimated that power. He was a class act, a quality person, and a man who profoundly cared. The world just lost one of its finest.
I did not know Skip Prosser, but I sure felt like I did.
Skip Prosser cared. He cared about his family, his players, his coaches. He cared about students, about the university, about people.
Professor and writer Leo Buscaglia once said, "Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around."
Skip Prosser never underestimated that power. He was a class act, a quality person, and a man who profoundly cared. The world just lost one of its finest.
I did not know Skip Prosser, but I sure felt like I did.
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