Danny Colangelo almost won the NCAAII men’s singles tennis title his sophomore year. He beat an undefeated player in the semi-finals in an outstanding per formance. The next day he would play for the national title.
Returning to our motel before going out to eat, Danny begged, “Coach, I’m so tired can you guys please bring me something to eat back to my room?” He sounded pitiful. “Sure, Dan”
After we’d eaten, the team returned to the Hilton Plaza Hotel, in Kansas City. It’s also a home for conventions, and there was a convention of would be models in the large center.
I took Danny’s meal to his room. No answer. A louder knock, then another. Nothing. I went to my room and called his. I let the phone ring fifteen times. Couldn’t awaken him. He must really be tired.
I walked toward his room again, and met a teammate in the hall. “Shaw, you’re rooming with ‘Co’, open his door for me. I’ve got his meal.”
“Coach, He ain’t in that room. He’s down there with the models.”
Sure enough, I talked the security guard into letting me in. Danny was the only male of 200. He’d already signed up, paid $200, and had scheduled a New York “audition.”
“Get your ass to your room!”
I promise you; he’d already forgotten he was to play for a National title the next day. Typical Danny.
I spoke at his wedding and told this story. His wife was truly beautiful, and I concluded by acknowledging her beauty, while warning “but you are no prettier than he thinks he is.”

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