The first thing to establish when discussing Gerry McNamara is that everything’s been established. He’s the senior from Scranton who draws a traveling crowd. He’s the one who hit six first half 3-pointers as a freshman to help secure SU’s only national championship. He’s the player whose jersey is on the backs of most kids walking through the Carrier Dome, the face on the ESPN promotions.

But this story isn’t about Gerry McNamara’s statistics or his records. It’s not about how he’s made more 3-pointers than any player in Syracuse history or how he’s started more consecutive games than any player in the nation. It’s not about how his number might one day hang in the Carrier Dome, his No. 3 taking its place alongside Sherman Douglas’ No. 20.

This is about the culture of sports and the roots of fanaticism. It’s about how one player can capture the identity of a city and a school and an entire fanbase. It’s about the culture Gerry McNamara’s created.

***

It was Human Sexuality class, as popular four years ago as it is today, and Stephanie Seigel saw ‘the little guy.’ Seigel wasn’t a sports fan before she came to Syracuse, but the magic of the 2003 basketball team converted her. Carmelo Anthony was the star, the one who received the most attention and the most camera flashes.

But Seigel liked the ‘little guy,’ McNamara. The point guard. The one who made the shots and rather than flashing a Carmelo-like, mega-watt smile, he’d run back on defense or nod his head. Old hat – he’s done it before.

But when Seigel spotted him, it was time for the camera flashes and the smile. She needed a picture with her classmate.

Like many freshmen in 2003, Seigel was converted. She was a fan.

‘The national championship was the best day of college, by far,’ Seigel said. ‘Classes were canceled, everyone was happy. It’s hard to get everyone happy in Syracuse when it’s snowing.’

And then there was Marshall Street after the game. Where else to go after your school captures its first national title? Where else to go when the guy from Human Sexuality class hits six 3-pointers?

That’s why Sunday, McNamara’s last game at the Carrier Dome, is going to be tough for Seigel. She’s saying farewell, too. Farewell to the first sports team she really followed. Farewell to the team that created the best day of her four years at college. Farewell to one of the players who started it all.

So Seigel – who rarely misses a game when she’s on campus – admitted it.

‘I think I’ll cry,’ she said.

***

The wallpaper on Neil Gold’s computer would be more fitting on a star-crazed sophomore’s screen than the president of the Alumni Association. It’s a picture of McNamara hitting an improbable game-winning 3-pointer against Georgetown in McNamara’s sophomore season. But that’s Gold. When it to comes to SU basketball, a formal title does little justice to his true designation: a loyal fan.

Gold’s followed the Orange for 40 years, a stretch outdating iconic head coach Jim Boeheim’s coaching career. He said Carmelo Anthony is probably the most talented player he’s seen, but no one compares to McNamara’s popularity.

‘I think it’s his heart. He’s a team player. He understands the game as well as anyone I’ve ever seen,’ Gold said. ‘One day he’ll be a great teacher. He’ll make a fantastic coach. I’ve gone to some of the practices and you can see it when they’re going over plays. He’s right with the coaches – not to say the other guys aren’t – but he’s almost mouthing the words of instructions.’

Gold can rattle off a list of his favorite McNamara moments, ranging from the national title game to the Georgetown game-winner. But the one he came back to was the second round of the 2003 Tournament, when a bloodied McNamara proved his toughness by scrapping 14 points and six assists despite a cut over his eye to help the Orangemen overcome a 17-point deficit.

More than the final statistics, it was a sign, marked in blood, that McNamara is tough and a winner.

Every time Gold turns on his computer, he has affirmation. ***

Eric Lawless used to camp out at Gate E of the Carrier Dome to sit in the front row of the Carrier Dome. He was a freshman, after all, and already a college basketball fan when he arrived. It was the thing to do, especially when two of your classmates are leading SU.

The Class of 2006 doesn’t have an official representative, but if you ask Lawless, it would be Gerry McNamara. He’s the player who united the class four years ago when he helped the Orangemen win the national title. Now, he and Matt Gorman – who redshirted the 2005 season and is considered a junior in eligibility – are the last links.

Lawless was in the Carrier Dome on that Monday night – along with many of his other classmates – to watch SU capture the first national title on the big screens. The excitement still oozes from Lawless’ voice when he talks about that season.

‘It made our freshman year,’ Lawless said. ‘That whole year, it was all about the basketball team. We had so much fun. It was awesome being able to be a part of it and watch it happen. It’s just an awesome feeling.’

Suddenly, basketball was contagious, like the February flu that wipes out seemingly half the top section of Grant Auditorium. And it stuck. Now, Lawless shares it with his classmates. He’s watched McNamara evolve from the unknown freshman to the star senior. He’s seen McNamara develop into a point guard – perhaps by necessity rather than designation – and can smoothly tell you where he was during McNamara’s greatest moments.

The BYU game in the second round of the 2004 NCAA Tournament when McNamara scored 43 points? In his dorm room.

The game-winner against Notre Dame in 2003 when the Scranton fans had to cover their green leprechaun boxers with orange pants? In the front row of the student section, of course.

***

Bob Snyder started writing for Syracuse newspapers in 1965. He wrote his final column in The Post-Standard on Sunday. In between, he covered SU basketball for 20 years, among other sports, and wrote a column for 20 more.

He’ll philosophize about today’s fans’ eagerness to ‘come over the table’ (rush the court) and discuss how he thinks Greg Kohls was the best long-range shooter in SU history. Problem is, there was no 3-point line in the early 1970s, so there’s no tangible way of judging how he compares to Gerry McNamara.

But Snyder should be a good judge. After all, he was sitting courtside for the games in Manley Field House when it was ‘so full you could barely breathe, so loud you couldn’t hear yourself think.’ And what he sees in McNamara is someone whose popularity is ‘off the charts.’

‘He’s got his own town, his own bus service,’ Snyder said, in reference to the flocks of Scranton fans who come to watch McNamara. ‘It’s unlike any other player. Pearl Washington, his signing certainly affected the town’s basketball fans. It was a national signing. Although when he said it was coming, everybody didn’t motor up from Bedford-Stuyvesant.’

Snyder quickly recognizes McNamara’s limitations – the scribe thinks the SU senior has tried to do too much in recent seasons – although he said, ‘If you look around at the supporting cast the past couple years, there’s not too many guys you were going to go to.’ He’s written columns critical of McNamara, but recognizes the sensitivity involved with writing it.

‘Almost everyone who criticizes him does it with a heavy heart,’ Snyder said. ‘You don’t hear anyone say a bad word about Gerry. Anyone who does is nuts … he handles himself well. His rapport off the court is a wonderful attribute to his parents. He’ll live for a long time in Syracuse annals because of that.’

***

Matt Blitz makes jerseys out of T-shirts. It’s more industrious than it is creative. He takes orange shirts that are given away at events like Homecoming, flips it inside-out and writes ‘Syracuse’ on the front with a number, along with a name and a number on the back.

His roster of jerseys is extensive – Demetris Nichols, Jeremy McNeil, Craig Forth, Billy Edelin, Josh Pace, Arinze Onuaku, Josh Wright, Julie McBride and the first he ever made, Gerry McNamara. Most of them are autographed; McNamara’s isn’t.

Blitz, a senior television, radio and film and political science major, goes to every game. When he was a freshman, he and a group of friends created a club called ‘Craig Nasty,’ after Syracuse center Craig Forth. The name originated from a friend of one of the founding members, Nick Kindling, and it caught on that even ESPN commentators dubbed the former SU center, ‘Craig Nasty.’

One of those ESPN games was against No. 2 Pittsburgh in 2003. The Orange upset the Panthers, prompting fans to rush the court on three different occasions. During the frenzy after the game, Blitz remembers fellow freshman McNamara in the middle of the throng of fans smiling, jumping up and down. Syracuse assistant coach Mike Hopkins was trying to get his freshman off the court to little avail.

‘It’s pretty dangerous with all those students,’ Blitz said. ‘Hopkins was trying to get him off the court and Gerry wouldn’t leave. It’s kind of hard to forget.’

Both Blitz and McNamara are leaving the Carrier Dome on Sunday. Blitz will wear his homemade McNamara jersey. He’ll look for the star of the show to autograph it.

For old time’s sake.

***

Walk into the original Manny’s on Marshall Street and you’ll see more Gerry McNamara jerseys than there are in the senior guard’s locker.

Bill Nester, the manager of Manny’s, has worked at the clothing and apparel shop for 23 years, a span that has included other Orange greats like Rony Seikaly and Derrick Coleman. But when fans come into the store, they flock to the No. 3 perhaps more than anyone in SU history.

‘People like a 3-point shooter,’ Nester said. ‘He reaches out to everybody. He has that great 3-pointer. The number is perfect for him – No. 3.’

The jerseys sell just as well in kids’ sizes as adult sizes. Nester also displays Terrence Roberts’ No. 33 and former SU forward Hakim Warrick’s No. 1, but the McNamara sales eclipse his teammates. It’s been that way since his freshman season. Even though Anthony was the go-to player on the team, McNamara’s following was just as big and continues to grow.

‘It’s selling maybe a little more this year,’ Nester said. ‘But the crowds always come up to see him. He’s been great for us. People love him, love his number, love the career he’s had.’

Nester referenced McNamara’s jersey from his freshman and sophomore seasons with different lettering than the current version and indicated even that style is still appealing to customers. While Sunday is McNamara’s final game, Nester insisted the jersey will be sold as long as it’s made.

It means kids can continue to wear No. 3. What’s unknown is whether another SU player will ever wear it. Syracuse has honored five numbers: Dave Bing’s 22, Vic Hanson’s 8, Wilmeth Sidat-Singh’s 19, Pearl Washington’s 31 and Sherman Douglas’ 20. On Sunday, Coleman’s 44 will be the sixth.

While all were legendary, none won a national title. McNamara has. Along with his records and popularity, he has a good case to have his number hang in the Carrier Dome.

Either way, it’ll always hang in Manny’s.

***

Cut him open, and Matt Brazill might bleed Orange. Maybe he inherited it from his father, who drove to New Orleans for the 1987 Final Four, when SU lost to Indiana in the finals on a last-second shot. But it was the experience that prompted Brazill’s father to urge his son, a freshman during the Orange’s 2003 run, to drive to New Orleans and watch history.

It was worth every penny spent and every mile driven.

Brazill and three friends drove 22 hours straight through the night – leaving on a Thursday, arriving on a Friday – and met with others to pack eight into a hotel room. They experienced Bourbon Street, watched their team win the title and drove back to Syracuse in the wee hours of Tuesday morning.

‘My dad said, ‘You gotta go,” Brazill said. ”You’re young; this is the chance.’ It was the best time of our lives.’

It wasn’t even a question for Brazill. SU basketball isn’t a team to him; it’s more of a culture. He grew up in Syracuse, attended East Syracuse-Minoa Central High School and followed SU basketball the way day traders follow stocks. He grew up rooting for the team and whatever the reason – coincidence or forces of nature – SU won when he set foot on campus.

‘People don’t understand Syracuse. There’s no pro sports teams. SU is it,’ Brazill said. ‘To be a part of it while I was going to school here, it was a dream come true. I don’t mean to sound corny, but that’s what it was.’

It won with McNamara, who isn’t just a basketball player to Brazill. He saw it with his classmates, saw it with his neighbors. McNamara transcended the normal bounds of a college basketball player. He went from the one nobody knew to the one everyone loved.

‘I’ve never seen people flock to the Dome the way they do for him,’ Brazill said.

‘Everyone was so infatuated with Carmelo, but then with Gerry, everything about him, everyone asked, ‘Where’s he coming from?’ The whole community, the whole school gravitated around him. He’s the most popular player. Every little kid has his jersey. Everyone loves the guy.’

Brazill said it’s because they can identify with him. McNamara’s become an icon, a symbol for a city.

‘He defines the city,’ Brazill said. ‘Syracuse is not the biggest city in the state. It’s cold. It’s hard-nosed. He represents that.’

***

Sunday will be goodbye.

It will be farewell to the fans who’ve embraced him and a program he’s helped enshrine among college basketball’s most prestigious. Unless the NCAA Tournament selection committee doesn’t hold SU and McNamara in the same regard as those in Central New York – which would send the Orange to the NIT and a probable home game – it will be McNamara’s final game in Syracuse.

He’ll be discussed long after he uses the Carrier Dome’s locker room for the last time. When a player like McNamara graduates, fans wonder whether he’s the best player ever and insist there will never be a player like him. The problem with words like ‘ever’ and ‘never’ is they connote immeasurable time.

His future remains a question, though it’ll be irrelevant on Sunday. What will matter is the ovation of appreciation. Four years starting every game. The national title. The floorburns. The ‘Ger-ry, Ger-ry’ chants. The kids wearing No. 3. The networks emblazing his face on advertisements. The opposing fans’ jeers. The Carrier Dome’s endless cheers. It will conclude on Sunday in front of the largest crowd ever to watch a basketball game on a college campus. Pretty much all for Gerry.

Certainly, he’s earned it.

Published on March 1, 2006 at 12:00 pm