It's been a great four years in the Palestra

Penn forward Scott KeglerPenn forward Scott Keglershares some thoughts onPenn forward Scott Keglershares some thoughts onlife as a Penn basketballPenn forward Scott Keglershares some thoughts onlife as a Penn basketballplayer and the 1995 hoopsPenn forward Scott Keglershares some thoughts onlife as a Penn basketballplayer and the 1995 hoopsseason The last four years in Philadelphia have changed my life forever. I've been a part of a team that has elevated Penn basketball to a level of national prominence not seen since the 1979 Final Four team. The memories come flooding back: top 25 rankings; 43 straight wins in the Ivy League; three consecutive NCAA Tournament appearances; a first-round win over Nebraska last year; Jerome's last-second heroics in Ann Arbor; playing in Columbus, Ohio's St. John Arena (home of my childhood heroes) then beating the Ohio State Buckeyes on the Palestra hardwood; standing at half court of Madison Square Garden as champions of the ECAC Holiday Festival; seeing our faces and hearing our names on SportsCenter, CNN and the nightly news, reading about the team in the newspapers and even in Sports Illustrated. These are images that all Quakers followers can remember, and they make our hearts swell with pride. Fortunately, these are images we can keep forever on videotape, in scrap books and in the record books. I will be an old man talking about the glory days and telling my grandchildren how good we were. If they don't believe me, I can pull out the proof. I'm sure I'll spend more than one lonely night looking back and remembering. Unfortunately, most of the things I don't want to forget haven't been recorded for posterity. Things that make me smile, make me laugh or even make me cry. Like Jerome's soft head. That's right -- his soft head. Arguably the best player in Penn history, a young man who hopefully will get his shot in the NBA come June, has a weak spot. His head is soft. If he gets hit with a ball, gets a light smack from a friend or accidentally bumps his head on a doorway, it sends him into excruciating pain and makes his head bleed. I don't understand it, I just know that the slightest contact draws blood. One time we were coming back from a long Ivy weekend and Jerome was lying down sleeping in the aisle of the bus. Someone got up to use the bathroom and stepped right on his head. I've never heard the man scream so loud. I wish I had made a tape of Ira's Coach Dunph impression. Or of Digger Phelps' talk to the team, telling Shawn that he's the difference. Or of all the famous people we've met -- Dick Vitale, Magic Johnson, Bill Cosby, Bill Raftery and Billy Packer just to name a few. Or of Bean (Eric Moore) praying to his shoe laces and ankle braces before games. Or of some of Dunph's tirades and locker room antics. Or of playing guitar and singing with Matt Maloney. Or of the time crazy Mike the bus driver hit a snow plow and shattered the windows on the right side of the bus (fortunately no one was hurt). Or of Jamie (Lyren) trying to get under Krug's skin. Or of the day when Nat Graham officially became the "Possum." Or of dancing New Year's Eve away with Krug in a desolate Smokey Joe's. Or of Ced having to dance like Michael Jackson and sing "Thriller" in front of the team for being late to practice. Or of the "Glide" (Donald Moxley) trying trying to dunk over and over again and falling asleep watching films. Or of George Zaninovich asking me if I was tired or if I thought practice would be hard today. Or of Dunph telling Garett Kreitz that he thinks he's tougher than he really is. Or of Dunph explaining to Vigor that when he crosses the white lines and steps onto the court, no one cares if he's a nice guy -- people want to kick his ass. It's the little things that I'm going to miss. The camaraderie of our team can never be replaced. I kept a book of memoirs for about a week during my sophomore year so I wouldn't forget. Here's an excerpt: I had just gotten my hair cut by Kenny Hans, a former teammate. Dunph (who is a little thin up top these days) sees me and says, "Kegs, did you try to cut your own hair or what? It boggles my mind that someone with as many good follicles as you have would do that to your hair. If I had hair like that, I'd grow the shit down to my ass." There are so many daily interactions like this one that meant so much. I wish I could remember them all. Along with four of my teammates and the rest of the senior class, the time has come to move on. I'll be graduating in a month and will spend my summer travelling the western United States and Europe. Come September I'll be back in Philly to start my job. I'll be thinking of the guys waking up at 7 a.m. for preseason conditioning, but I can't say I'll miss it. I've paid my dues and have gotten through the most physically, mentally and emotionally challenging things I've ever done. I've had my turn in the spotlight, and I've tried to make the most of it. Now it's someone else's turn. All of the guys who have worked and worked, only to have their pride hurt and their egos stepped on, will come to the forefront. New recruits will come in every year and we will all speculate on how good they are, and how good the team will be. It's their turn for the glory. Thank you to everyone who cheered, everyone who helped us through the tough times, everyone who camped out for tickets or told their friends at home that the Quakers were for real. I hope we've made the Penn community proud, because I'm sure proud of who we are and what we've accomplished. Next year I will watch my first Penn basketball game from the stands. I'll be there cheering for my friends and teammates, cheering for my school. I'll be encouraging the commitment to excellence that has been a trademark of our teams. I'll be saying thank you to everyone who has been there for me. I'll be giving my love and appreciation back to the University. Until then, farewell. I'll see you in the Palestra.