The Basketball Game I Never Played In

By Greg Herenda

I started coaching at the end of the summer of 1983. I had graduated from Merrimack College on May 22 with a Bachelor of Science degree in Business Administration. My major was marketing, but all of my electives were in the School of Education. I had no idea what I was going to do with my life, but I knew I could either sell or teach. Before long, I combined those two talents and became a coach at what was then the University of Lowell—now UMass Lowell.

I was 22 years old, serving as an assistant coach for players I had considered rivals just a year earlier. I was eager, but I wasn't very sure of myself. Six years before, my father, Anthony Herenda, had died suddenly during the Blizzard of '78, and it shook me—and our entire family—to the core. My confidence was at an all-time low. I was not an honor student, and I had very little direction at this point in my life.

I attended a great high school in Jersey City—Saint Peter's Prep—and every day I took a 50-minute bus ride from North Bergen to Journal Square wearing a jacket and tie. I had no father at home. My big brother Tony—I've always called him Anth—was a student at the University of Notre Dame in South Bend, Indiana, and a terrific athlete in his own right. My sister Lynn was married and living in Hoboken, and she was the toughest of us all. She endured two kidney transplants and a hip replacement, remaining a warrior through it all before passing away in 1994.

My little brother Bill was five years younger than me and would eventually become a member of the 1988 Division II National Championship team at the University of Lowell—my first recruit. But back in 1978, it was just me, my kid brother, and my incredible mother, Grace, living a block and a half from North Bergen High School while I attended Prep, which felt like a lifetime away.

When I think back, my mother graduated from Demarest High in Hoboken, my sister graduated from St. Dominic's in Jersey City, and neither went to college. I wasn't even sure if I would. I was just a confused, hard-playing kid with a broken jump shot, an ultra-competitive streak, and an ability to make plays for others.

I was probably a little above average talent-wise for my neighborhood, but we were playing against men who were five to ten years older than us. They smelled like beer and marijuana because they drank and smoked a lot, but they were unforgettable characters—great guys who made us tougher and taught us how to grow up quickly, probably a bit too quick.

They played cards, gambled on every game that had a line in the New York Post, and did just about every drug that made its way to 82nd Street Park. That's where I'm from, and I wouldn't trade those memories for anything in the world.

But there was one night at that park that changed my life forever.

Now, about that game I never played in......

I was shooting around, and the whole crew was getting ready to play before having a few beers—a typical summer night in the glorious '70s. I wanted to play so badly, but I had a game that night in the Pershing Field League in Jersey City, run by Bob Hurley Sr. and his wife, Chris. It would have been so easy to jump on the court in my own neighborhood, just as I had done thousands of times before. But I knew I had to get to Jersey City. Thank God I did.I played on a team called the Crusaders, coached by Bill Macchi, a wonderful man who had close relationships with the coaches at Holy Cross College in Worcester, Massachusetts. Every summer, top recruits that Holy Cross wanted would come play with us.

The most famous was a milky-white, left-handed small forward from Brooklyn named Chris Mullin, and there were plenty of other outstanding players who joined us throughout the summer. Dwayne Johnson was another incredibly talented player who eventually went on to play at Marquette. So, instead of playing with the beer-drinking older crew from my neighborhood, I found myself on the court against high-level collegiate dudes: Kelly Tripucka, then an All-American at Notre Dame and later an NBA standout with the Detroit Pistons, and Mike O'Koren from UNC-Chapel Hill, who also went on to enjoy a long NBA career.

These guys were ballers. The real thing.

To make a very long story even longer, I had the game of my life. Not only did I survive—I belonged. I held my own against serious, big-time college players.

And guess who was sitting in the stands? The head coach of Merrimack College, Frank Monahan. He offered me a scholarship after the game. As the years passed by, I finally realized that those old guys at 82nd Street Park had prepared me for the biggest game of my life. I never knew it then, but they had toughened me up and unknowingly helped me earn the one and only college scholarship I would ever receive—to a small school in North Andover, Massachusetts.

Much thanks to Blitz, Jimmie Miller, Lenny Ponzoni, Vic Silletti, Pete Pablowski, Eddie Bauer, and so many others. They were neighborhood guys who showed me how to play against men. Those lessons eventually led me to the heights of NCAA basketball, a victory in the 2019 NCAA Tournament, and an appearance on "One Shining Moment." The time seemed short but the road was extremely long—and very well worth traveling.

As the head coach at Fairleigh Dickinson University, I also hosted a radio show built around stories exactly like this. My guests included Hubie Brown, Jay Wright, Dick Vitale, John Calipari, Jim Calhoun, Tom Izzo, Howard Garfinkel, Tom Konchalski, David Wright, Frank Thomas, Bill Cowher, Phil Simms, Sonny Vaccaro, Mike Fratello, and every member of the Hurley family, among many others.

The common thread wasn't just their success. It was the genesis of their greatness: where they came from and how they got there. It was about the people, places, moments, and unexpected turns that shaped who they became.

I'll continue bringing incredible guests to my upcoming podcasts, and together we'll uncover the stories behind their journeys—the experiences that defined their lives and careers long before the spotlight ever found them.

Get ready to join my TEAM OF LISTENERS.

PEACE!