The Guy Who Likes Hoops

By Tom Hoban '84

He stood in the frame of my dorm room door at Fisher Hall, naked except for a towel around his waist. With a shaving kit in one hand, he was, I had to assume, on his way to the shower stalls. It was my first day at Notre Dame, and I was thoroughly confused. Ninety-three degrees and 93 percent humidity. Two thousand miles from home, in a place I knew I had to be but which I knew nothing about. I sat down on the end of the bed in my tiny single room to collect myself. Like many freshmen on their first day at college, I was scared to death. I really, really missed my mom.…

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