PHENOM - The Search for the Ark of the Covenant Read online

Al McGuire blew his whistle and the scrimmage began. It was the first day of practice and Matthew Wilson lined up at forward with four other freshmen. They faced a veteran varsity team that returned four starters from a team that went 22-7 the previous year and advanced to the finals of the year-ending NIT. It was only the third time in Marquette’s long history that they had been to a post-season tournament. This year the Golden Eagles were picked to finish fifth in the 14-team Big East Conference. Marquette basketball was on its way up.

  The freshmen lineup was undersized with their tallest player only 6’8”. The forwards were small; Matthew at 6’5” and another 6’4” scholarship player. The guards were both under six feet. Coach McGuire was using the freshmen as cannon fodder for his experienced varsity team. He also wanted to see how the new kid would stand up to the beating he would surely receive. “Let’s see how he plays when he’s down by 30.”

  Hank Raymonds warned McGuire not to be so sure. “I’m telling you, Al, this kid can play.”

  “Hank, I’ve seen a lot of kids that were stars in high school where they beat up on smaller players, but don’t have it when they played kids that are bigger and stronger. Let’s see how well he shoots with a hand in his face.”

  “$20 says the freshmen team wins,” Hank challenged. He knew that despite the fact that Wilson played high school ball in the same city, McGuire had never seen him play. Al was too busy ‘doing his thing’.

  “You’re on,” McGuire said quickly, already thinking about the antique he would buy with his winnings.

  Two hours later Raymonds pocketed the $20, thanks largely to 26 points, 22 rebounds and 15 assists by Matthew Wilson.“He’s better than I thought,” McGuire admitted. “He sure can pass. We just might just run the table this year.”

  Hank Raymonds and Al McGuire made a great team. McGuire was a great recruiter and a great game-day coach, but he wasn’t much of a practice coach. Throughout the season he often left his assistant Hank Raymonds in charge of practice while he hopped on his motorcycle and rode the back roads of Wisconsin looking for bargains at old antique shops. McGuire was probably the person that Thoreau had in mind when spoke of people marching to the beat of their own drummer. He most assuredly would have been labeled a hippy in another time, but he was born 20 years too soon. McGuire hopped on his Harley to go antique hunting or whatever. Raymonds took over practices and Marquette never missed a beat.

  “That’s him,” the 19 year old co-ed whispered to her girlfriend. That’s Matthew Wilson.”

  “It can’t be,” her friend countered, “he doesn’t look that special. My boyfriend is better looking.”

  “Shhh, he’s coming this way.”

  “Good morning girls. Can help me? I’m trying to find Emory Hall.”

  “You’re Matthew Wilson,” Tina blurted out. “I recognize you from your pictures in the newspaper.”

  “And you’re Tina Albright, I recognize you from the yearbook. You’re a philosophy major, and you must be your friend Betty Fagen, majoring in undecided,” he said with a smile. It’s a pleasure to meet you girls. I hope we can be good friends.”

  Tina and Betty stared at Matthew in awe, before Tina finally found her tongue. “Do you know everyone’s name?”

  “No, just the people in the yearbook or with pictures on the school website. I started with the good looking co-eds,” he said smoothly.

  The girls knew the last part was just a corny line, but they didn’t feel offended or that he was making a move on them. His smile and demeanor softened the words. They just felt proud that Matthew had remembered their names and proud that he thought they were good looking.

  “Emory Hall?” Matthew repeated with a broad smile.

  Tina pointed at a building across the street.

  “Thanks girls, I’m sure we’ll see each other soon.” Matthew hurried to his first class at Marquette University.

  The two friends watched him leave, both deep in their own thoughts. Tina was thinking that this was one, special guy. Those Russian Terrorists never had a chance.”

  Betty was stubbornly thinking that her boyfriend was more handsome, but realized how insignificant this was. “Matthew Wilson was a man’s man.”

  Everyone on campus knew of Matthew Wilson, with the possible exception of a few out of state transfers or freshmen. Marquette was a basketball school and Matthew was the most heralded recruit to ever choose Marquette. He was also a Milwaukee native, or at least an adopted native, transferring to Shorewood High School for his final semester, and leading them to the Wisconsin State Championship.

  His off the court achievements and positive impact on the Milwaukee community were even more newsworthy. His ‘We Kick Ass’ campaign was an inspiration for high school students throughout the country. Revenues from the movie and memorabilia exceeded one hundred million dollars and used to fund youth programs and many charities. The President of the United States was a personal friend and only two months ago addressed the United Nations.

  “Matthew’s role in rescuing the 1,400 students and faculty from the Russian terrorists was never fully disclosed, but the public had seen enough courtesy of a live television feed provided by the terrorists. Millions of viewers so Matthew stare down the terrorist leader and use his leadership skills to attack and disarm eleven, heavily armed Chechnya militants. His charisma was there for all to see as all 1,400 hostages walked out of the school unharmed.

  It was September 5, the first day of school and Matthew Wilson hurried to his first class, Philosophy of Religion. How fitting for a Jesuit School. The bell rang as he hurriedly took a seat in the back row of the 300 seat lecture hall. He was too late. Father Fitzgerald, or Father Fritz as he liked to be called, spotted him. Father Fitz decided to have some fun.

  “Students, it appears we have a celerity is this class,” the Professor announced. “No one else but a celerity would be late for his first class.” 300 pairs of eyes turned and looked at Matthew Wilson. A few started to applaud, but were silenced by Father Fitzgerald’s frown.

  “Since you have everyone’s attention, maybe you would like to teach this class?” Father Fitz inquired.

  “No sir,” Matthew replied. “What do I know about Aristotle, Descartes and other great religious philosophers?”

  “Ah, Rene Descartes, who many claim is the Father of Modern Philosophy. You have heard of him?”

  “Yes sir, at least I believe that I have,” Matthew replied coyly, not falling into the Professor’s trap.

  “Yes, indeed; Mr. Descartes was fond of saying that the only thing you truly can be sure of is that you exist. What was he able to deduce from this?”

  Matthew had studied Descartes and spent many hours arguing with Father McGinnis about the implications this French philosopher had upon today’s religions. “Many things, Professor, including empirical proof that a benevolent God does exist. His ‘Casual Adequacy Principle’ is a wonderful example of deductive reasoning.”

  Father Fitz was smart enough to put a reign on this boy before he summarized the entire syllabus. “Mr. Wilson, I have heard a lot of good things about you, and I must say that it appears that what I heard is true. I look forward to an interesting semester. Students, help me welcome Matthew Wilson to Marquette.” Professor Fitz led the applause which soon became a standing ovation.

  Matthew stood and joined the applause, letting everyone know that he was proud to be a member of this great University. He smiled inwardly as he gave thanks for his ability to quickly scan books with almost total recall. He had spent an hour Sunday evening reading up on Descartes and a couple more hours looking at photos. Would Tina and Betty have been impressed if they knew that’s how long it took to memorize the names and faces in last year’s Marquette yearbook?

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