HUNTINGTON — There are a few things you need to know about Jeremiah Benjamin right out the gate … besides the fact he likes to be called Jeremy.

His nickname is “Sweetness.”

He’s listed as a linebacker, but he’d prefer to play safety at Marshall.

On the Friday night after National Signing Day, he spent part of his evening working out.

Certainly, that nickname must have some kind of relevance or connection to NFL Hall of Fame running back Walter Payton, right?

“Actually Coach (Andrew) Rhoden gave me that nickname,” Benjamin said. “I have no idea why he called me ‘Sweetness.’ People ask me all the time what it means. I just point to Coach and say, “Ask him, he gave it to me.’”

HUNTINGTON — It’s a hot August day in St. Albans, W.Va., but not too warm for a good ol’-fashioned D’Antoni family reunion. Mark and Shelly D’Antoni own the house, but the entire family has the run of it on this summer afternoon.

In the backyard the patriarch Lewis, 98 years old, is teaching his son Mike the finer points of tossing beanbags in a game of cornhole. His tournament wins in this board game are legendary here. On the other side of the lawn, daughter Kathy, 70, is the commissioner and champion of the croquet contest. She dismisses her younger brothers Dan and Mark, as they walk away with their mallets, muttering something about ‘Wait ‘til next game.’”

The Kennedys had their touch football. The D’Antonis have cornhole and croquet.

Few families enjoy the spirit of competition quite like the D’Antonis. The real reason they gathered here is to welcome Mike back after he helped Team USA win a gold medal in basketball as an assistant coach in the London Olympics. There’s a chocolate cake on the dining room table with the Olympic rings on top to celebrate the occasion. It was a sweet conclusion to a year that saw Mike resign his job as coach of the New York Knicks.

But this was a time to relax, the basketball talk could wait … but not for long.
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Some three months later, only five games into the season, and the Los Angeles Lakers have fired Coach Mike Brown. In a matter of days, the roulette wheel stopped on two names: Phil Jackson and Mike D’Antoni. The conventional wisdom was that the Lakers would find a way to lure Jackson, and his 11 NBA championship rings, back to the bench.

In the middle of the night, after a Sunday win, D’Antoni got the call that he was the man the Lakers wanted for the job. The only two things Mike knew for sure were that he would accept the job and his brother Dan would join him in Los Angeles, as an assistant coach.

With all that swirling, D’Antoni was supposed to be in Charleston last Wednesday. The Education Alliance was honoring his father, and his family, for their contributions to education. There on the main stage the D’Antoni family sat with one notable exception. Mike had to join the festivities via Skype. Lewis D’Antoni was beaming this night. He had plenty to be proud of.

“It’s a climax of my life,” Lewis D’Antoni said of the honor and Mike’s new job in Los Angeles. After all, what was a D’Antoni get together without basketball somehow elbowing its way into the conversation?

“It’s unbelievable,” the elder D’Antoni said, “It’s unbelievable they come from a small town like that (Mullens, W.Va.) and they’re
now coaching one of the best teams in the NBA.” For Dan D’Antoni, this means a sudden address change from Charlotte, N.C., to Los Angeles.

“Being with Mike, the relationship is bigger than going to the Lakers,” Dan D’Antoni said. “We learned (as kids) to play as hard as you can, be the best you can be, and then accept the outcome. “We’re going out to LA to have a good time, and trying to do the best we can to win a championship and hopefully it will work out that way.”

There’s no time now for Mike D’Antoni to convalesce after undergoing knee surgery in late October. With his doctor’s permission, he flew to Los Angeles last Wednesday, and met the media the next day.

“Our expectation is for us to win a championship,” D’Antoni told the assembled media. “We have the team and the players to do that. We all know it takes this and it takes that, but boy is this fun trying. I can’t think of a better group, a better city and a better fan base to try to get it done.”

This tight knit family is spread out all across the country, but state or international borders never keep them far apart for very long. When next summer rolls around, Mark D’Antoni should plan on another August reunion. He can’t plan it any earlier. The NBA playoffs last through June.

HUNTINGTON — It represents the centerpiece of campus, the town square for the Marshall community if you will. Some students walk by it, oblivious to its real significance here. Others choose to sit on its granite border to read, socialize, or study next to it’s calming waters.

The Marshall Memorial Fountain celebrated its 40th birthday on November 12.

It’s one of the more recognizable icons on the school’s campus. What stories it could tell over the last four decades.

Marshall dedicated the sculpture on November 12, 1972, honoring the 75 victims of the Marshall plane crash who died on November 14, 1970.

Standing more than 13 feet tall and weighing 6,500 pounds, the fountain was created by Italian sculptor Harry Bertoia.

His hope was that it would “commemorate the living--rather than death—on the waters of life, rising, receding, surging so as to express upward growth, immortality and eternality”.

A member of the Marshall University Foundation, Lawrence Tippett, said of the memorial at the dedication:

“Let us move with firm resolve to take up the unfinished tasks of this great institution and find a personal significance and lasting stimulus in this memorial dedication.”

And so we gather here, every November 14, to reflect, remember, and revisit what is perhaps the most significant event in Marshall’s history.

Some might ask of these memorials, “Why still do this so many years later?”

There are so many reasons, beyond the 75 most obvious ones. There’s a solemnity to the ceremony — a sameness that’s comforting on a day that brings back a flood of difficult emotions. Some of us who lost loved ones understand, with each passing day, we continue to see November 15, year after year, unlike those who were taken from us that night.

We go to listen to heartfelt messages from former Marshall players and coaches — from children who lost parents to parents who lost children.

Their recollections are all different … all compelling … all sorrowful. Marshall’s story is one of a kind in college football. It’s one of fortitude and dedication, of heartbreak and hope. It’s something the head coaches for the Thundering Herd make sure their players understand.

If they don’t grasp the meaning of it when they first come to Marshall, they certainly do by the time they leave. That was Doc Holliday’s motivation on a warm night in May. He had an idea, and it wasn’t a publicity grab, or a PR move. He wanted his team to better understand the mosaic of Marshall football.

So he told his strength coach, Joe Miday, to get the players ready for a little early evening run, 1.3 miles up 20th Street (a.k.a. Marshall Memorial Boulevard) to the Spring Hill Cemetery.

“You know we start out when every kid gets here we make them sit down and watch the movie (We Are … Marshall),” Holliday said. “But you know for these kids it was so long ago, I don’t think until they actually get up here and see where the unknown players are buried and they see the monuments, that they really understand it.”

At some schools, players only have to worry about learning the fight song … Not at Marshall.

“You hear about it,” said junior defensive end Jeremiah Taylor, a local native from South Point, Ohio, “and they tell you about it, but to come up here and experience it for yourself and you see these graves, it hits you a different way.”

So every November 14, the Marshall family comes together. There are men dressed in suits, and players in Kelly green letter jackets.

When the weather is warm, current students in shorts and flip flops — most not born until 20-25 years after the tragedy — often stop by. Some of them are unaware of what is about to transpire, but they are quickly caught up by those who have attended many of these ceremonies.

There are young and old there, some wide-eyed, some teary eyed, but all here for the same reason.

After the speeches and the traditional laying of the wreaths at the Memorial Fountain, the waters slow to a trickle, then stop … and the silence is deafening.

The fountain is turned off for the winter, not to be revived until spring football like the Young Thundering Herd revived football at Marshall in 1971.

Some stay, to visit and reconnect.

Others go their own way, left to their deep, personal, private thoughts.

The wreaths and flowers are taken to the cemetery as the crowd departs.

But, you can be certain, we will meet here again.

See you every Nov. 14.

The trouble with referees is that they just don’t care which side wins.
—Tom Canterbury, Former basketball coach

HUNTINGTON — One of the tougher jobs in college basketball is about to get even tougher. The NCAA Men’s and Women’s Basketball Rules Committees are asking more from the men and women in stripes. Two notable points of emphasis for college referees:

*To more accurately make the charge/block call;

*To more closely monitor bench decorum from coaches and bench personnel.

With the size, speed, and athleticism of today’s college basketball player, there is no more difficult a call for a  referee to make than the charge/block call. The changes:

*Before the offensive player (with the ball) becomes airborne, the defender must have two feet on the floor, be facing an opponent and be stationary to draw a charge. Otherwise, it should be a blocking foul.

*Secondary defenders (help defenders) moving forward or to the side are also in violation and those should be blocking fouls;

*Contact that is “through the chest” is not de facto proof of a charge. The rule in its entirety must be  considered before determining a foul.

Marshall Coach Tom Herrion understands the rationale of trying to make this a more clear-cut call for the officials.

“The floor shrinks more with today’s athletes,” Herrion said. “It’s challenging for the officials. I do think they’re trying to give it some uniform structure and how it’s going to be called. It’s moving in the right direction trying to eliminate the inconsistencies. It’s always been a very challenging play to call.”

The changes in bench decorum should be of particular interest to Herrion, and in fact, every coach in America who’s ever felt the need to confront an official. The committee recommends a technical be called against the coach or other bench personnel for:

*Comments directed at or referring to any game official that question the integrity of an official (repeated references to the number of fouls called against each team, suggesting an official is “cheating a team”, etc.);

*Profane, vulgar, threatening, or derogatory remarks or personal comments relating to race, ethnicity, religion, gender, or sexual orientation directed at or referring to any game official or opposing player/bench personnel;

*Prolonged, negative responses to a call/no-call that are disrespectful or unprofessional, including waving or thrashing the arms in disgust, dramatizing contact by re-enacting the play, or running or jumping in disbelief over a call/non-call;

*A negative response to a call/no-call that includes approaching/charging an official in a hostile, aggressive or   otherwise threatening manner, emphatically removing one’s coat in response to a call/no-call, or throwing  equipment or clothing on to the floor.

OK, I know what you’re thinking. Are these new changes designed to squelch the spirit out of the Tom Herrions of the world?

Are these rules predicated on taking the personalities off the sidelines?

“I don’t want them to start to govern coaching philosophies, and styles,” Herrion said. “That’s my only fear. We all coach differently and we all have a different style.”

Herrion understands the need for decorum. And he knows that any deliberate attempt by a coach to embarrass an official should result in a technical foul. But when Herrion jumps in the air, or slumps in a chair, it’s not melodrama. It’s his coaching persona on full display.

“I coach with emotion, I coach with passion,” Herrion said. “I coach with the same energy in practice. I’ve had a handful of technicals here. Most of my emotional spontaneity is me reacting to my players, not the officials.”

You would think these changes could provide plenty of fodder for Herrion’s alter ego on twitter —@Herrion’sJacket. A clever Herd fan developed the site because of Herrion’s propensity to shed his coat shortly after a game begins.

“It’s the temperature of the game and my body temperature that dictate when my jacket comes off,” Herrion said. “I don’t react to a call. By the time my jacket’s off, it’s way too early in the game.” Maybe that’s why Marshall’s reserved season tickets at the Henderson Center are soldout for the upcoming season.

The show on the sidelines is almost as entertaining as the one on the floor … this year, maybe even more so.