A FRONT ROW VIEW: BP, thanks for the memories

UNIONDALE, N.Y. -- With 36 seconds left in the Quakers' loss to Florida, Barry Pierce fouled out of the game. His last game. Before he took that long stroll to the bench for the very last time, Pierce hugged each Penn player on the court. He was even congratulated by a few Gator players before meeting the rest of his teammates on the sideline. More embraces. Pierce then walked to the end of the bench, grabbed a towel, wrapped it around his neck, and began to cry. At that point, I don't think there were any dry eyes in the house. Mine sure weren't. Barry Pierce had one of the most successful careers in Penn basketball history. In his own words, it was "good, very good, but now it's over." But it's not over. His spirit will remain in the Palestra forever. Has anyone ever seen a rags-to-riches story like Pierce? He wasn't recruited by any big-time colleges coming out of the prestigious Hill School in the Philly suburbs. He was too small for a forward. He did not have enough talent. But Quaker coach Fran Dunphy saw something in Pierce that no one else did. Pierce did not believe his doubters. Neither did Dunphy. He gave Pierce a chance. "I knew that if given the chance, I would [have a successful career]," Pierce said. "I was given the chance, and I did." But by no means was it successful right off the bat. His freshman year the team was 9-17, 6-8 in Ivy League play. He played in every game, averaging 5.3 points and 3.0 rebounds a game. But he was not the marquee player on this team, not even the most heralded freshman. That honor belonged to Will McAllister. Pierce continued to contribute, quietly. Even when McAllister left the team, Pierce was not the player people came to see. That honor was bestowed upon Jerome Allen. Then, the focus was on Allen and Matt Maloney, as talk of Penn meant discussing its backcourt duo. But Pierce still methodically pounded away on the court. That is his way. He scores 15 points and you're left asking, "When did he do that?" You remember Allen's shake-and-bake and Matt Maloney's rainbows, but Pierce? A rebound here, a stickback there, an occasional three-pointer and a slam on the fast break. When did it all happen? Barry Pierce always got the job done, and now his career is over. I have been a sports writer only for a few years, but I can confidently say Pierce is probably the most unique personality I have ever come across. He says what is on his mind. He doesn't take any crap. He doesn't really like the media. If you ask him a stupid question, he'll tell you. If you ask him an insightful question, he'll give you a terrific answer, but always with a different slant than you would get from anyone else. But it's always the bottom line. He's always honest. If the team played well, he said so. If the team played poorly, he said so. If the refs made a bad call, he let them know. He wasn't afraid to offend anyone or give credit when credit was due. It's a nice break from all the other sports personalities around who say the same thing over and over again. Barry Pierce loves his team, and he loves his teammates. "This is the school to me," he said about his team after Saturday's loss. "Not Locust Walk, not any partying. Just these guys here. That's all I'm going to remember, that's all I'd like to remember." Pierce never showed that emotion off the court. But that changed when he talked about his team, his team. "I was just so proud of all these guys, and they're going to be back next year," he said. "I'll be in the stands, but I hope that they can keep me in their hearts." He will always be in their hearts. He was the leader of this Penn team, its captain. He was not one to make fiery speeches to the team before games, he let his actions on the court do the talking. He was everywhere on defense. He was in contention for every rebound, despite being only 6-foot-3. He was in the middle of every fight for a loose ball. He found himself knocked to the floor more than anyone else on the team. He was a fierce competitor and he was driven by the desire to win. For those of you like myself who have been following Barry Pierce and Penn basketball for four years now, you had to be happy for him when he scored his 1,000th point. You had to get a lump in your throat when he was honored on senior night, and the echoes of 8,711 fans chanting "Barry, Barry" cascaded down from the rafters. You had to be screaming when he poured in 25 points on 11-of-15 shooting against Nebraska. And how fitting was it that he held the ball for the final eight seconds of the Quakers' first postseason win since 1980? Is there any one person that embodies the student-athlete more than Pierce? He practiced his butt off on the court, but then he hustled off to class. He wasn't courted by any big-name schools, so he decided to enroll in the Wharton School and play basketball. "I'm happy to graduate," Pierce said. "That's what people go to college to do. Not to play basketball, to graduate." Will he try to play basketball professionally? "I think today is it," Pierce said after the game. "I have to look for a job." Maybe it's because I'm graduating with him that I got so emotional when he fouled out against Florida. I saw him for four years. Maybe if I graduated two years ago I would have felt the same way about Paul Chambers. Maybe next year's seniors will have a soft spot for Jerome Allen, Shawn Trice, Eric Moore or Scott Kegler. So as the 1993-94 Penn basketball season officially comes to a close, as does the career of one of the great players in Penn history, I just have one thought on my mind. Goodbye, Barry. We'll never forget you. Dan Feldman is a College senior from Dallas, Texas, and former sports editor of The Daily Pennsylvanian.

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