The cellphone buzzed within the ready room of a physician’s workplace, the place buzzing telephones are handled extra harshly than germs, however there wasn’t a alternative right here. On the face of the cellphone was a reputation — “Lou Carnesecca” — and these had been calls that all the time needed to be answered.
“Coach!” I mentioned.
“I saw where you wrote about that white suit that Rick Pitino wore yesterday at the Garden,” he mentioned, in that the majority acquainted, raspy voice, and even over the cellphone you may detect the twinkle in his eye. “And that his wife told him to wear it. And I saw where you mentioned that it was my wife, Mary, who told me to wear that awful old sweater that made me famous.”
“She told me that story once,” I mentioned. “She said you had a cold, and she wanted to keep you from getting pneumonia.”
