Starting in 2012, Dad and I bought season tickets for Syracuse University Women's Basketball. We went to most every game for three years, but then Dad died toward the end of the 2015 season.

I've kept the season tickets. My wife and girls attend almost every home game. We stay 'til the final whistle no matter what.

This year, SU was a top-four ACC Tournament seed, riding a double-bye. They came into tonight's game rested, but sleep-walked through it.

They got crushed and I'm crushed with them.

I should know better. It's only a game, but it hurt. SU Women's Basketball can do that to me.

Back in 2015, on a Wednesday night in February, Dad called to check what time to meet for Thursday's game. I told him, same time as usual. He said, okay. "G'night, Dad," were the last words I said to him. He died the next morning.

That night, my brother took me to the game. SU against North Carolina, who was good that year. Not much chance for the Orange, but they won anyway, as if just for me. The final whistle, I almost felt Dad with me.

SU Women's Basketball can do that to me too.

So maybe I shouldn't know better. Maybe it's more than just a game. Right, Dad?

Let's go Orange.