LAWRENCE, Kan. – Minutes after Kansas clinched its sixth straight Big 12 title with an 82-65 victory over
Kansas State, Sherron Collins stood at midcourt clutching a microphone and fighting back tears.
The winningest player in Kansas history had just played his final game at Allen Fieldhouse, and now it was
time to address the crowd on Senior Night.
“We went to IHOP this morning, and all through the meal, I could tell he was nervous,” Collins’ uncle, Walt Harris,
said. “He wasn’t worried about the game. He just knew that, afterward, he was going to have to say goodbye.
“And he didn’t want to. It’s something he’d been dreading.”
Ask any of the 16,300 fans who stuck around for Collins’ 10-minute speech, and they’ll tell you the feeling was mutual.
Saying farewell to Kirk Hinrich and Nick Collison was tough, and watching Wayne Simien play his final game wasn’t
easy. Still, no Senior Night in recent Kansas memory was as emotional as the one that took place Wednesday, when
one of college basketball’s greatest success stories passed along a heartfelt thank you to the people and the school
who made him a better player.
And, moreso, a better person.
Kansas fans have a love affair with Collins, and as much as they appreciate him for it, it’s got little to do with
the four Big 12 regular season titles, two conference tournament championships and the NCAA title
he helped the Jayhawks win during his tenure.
No, Kansas fans are enamored with Collins because he’s an example of what a community and a school and a
coaching staff can do for a kid who is on wayward path. He’s proof that college can change someone’s life.
And, goodness knows, Collins’ needed changing.
“Four years ago Sherron was on a one-way road going 100 miles per hour,” Harris said. “Sooner or later,
he was going to crash.”
Growing up on Chicago’s West Side, it wasn’t uncommon for Collins to see drug dealers and prostitutes in his
apartment courtyard. He witnessed someone carve a tattoo off the chest of a rival gang member and, when he
was 16, one of his best friends was shot in the head and killed moments after he left Collins’ home.
With his father in prison and his mother working through the night to support him and his older brother, Sherron
turned to sports to try to steer clear of trouble. He spent most of his free time at the local Boys and Girls Club
and even slept there on occasion.
Still, everywhere Collins turned, the potential for trouble loomed. At Chicago’s Crane High School Collins
once saw someone knocked unconscious with a padlock. To lessen potential security issues, basketball games
were often played before it got dark.
Many of Collins’ closest friends were gang members and drug dealers who eventually dropped out of a school.
“Sometimes I see interviews on TV or hear people talking about how tough they had it growing up,” Collins
said earlier in his career. “I never say anything out loud but, in the back of my head, I’m thinking,
‘You have no clue.’”
Hardened by the streets and leery of new faces and surroundings, Collins enrolled at Kansas with a massive
chip on his shoulder. From day one it was obvious.
Kansas needed Collins.
But Collins needed Kansas even more.
Wednesday – four years later – it was evident that Collins realizes that now. Tears streamed down his cheeks as
his mother and uncle escorted him onto the court, and he labored with his words when he spoke about teammate
Brady Morningstar and his parents, who have become a family away from home.
Collins struggled early Wednesday, missing nine of his first 10 shots. But he eventually settled down and scored
seven straight points that turned a 62-55 lead into a 69-56 cushion.
No. 5 Kansas State never threatened the second-ranked Jayhawks after that. Collins’ final basket came on
a layup that almost seemed uncontested when Wildcats guard Jacob Pullen – like Collins, a Chicago native –
half-heartedly defended Collins as he blew past him toward the basket.
If it was a sign of respect, it was well-deserved.
When Collins exited the game for good with 30 seconds remaining, the crowd was as loud as it had been all night.
Kansas had won its 59th straight game at Allen Fieldhouse. The fact that victory came against an archrival
made it even sweeter.
“I didn’t want to get off the court,” Collins said. “I wish the game would’ve gone on all night.”
As Collins prepared to begin his speech, Kansas officials hauled out a folding table and decorated it with the seven
championship trophies Collins helped the Jayhawks win – just so the crowd could fully grasp the magnitude of his
on-court success.
“That’s everything he stands for,” Kansas coach Bill Self said. “It’s something that represents who he is
more than anything else.”
Collins’ 125 victories are the most by any player in the history of the school’s tradition-rich program.
He’s also nine wins away from surpassing the NCAA record of 133 wins set by Shane Battier and the Duke class of 2001.
As of now Collins’ crowning moment came in the Jayhawks’ 2008 national title game against Memphis.
Along with making a key steal and 3-pointer to spark Kansas’ rally, Collins was also the player who dished off to
Mario Chalmers for the last second 3-pointer that sent the game into overtime, where Kansas eventually
won 75-68.
“We’ve still got another one we want to win,” Collins told the crowd Wednesday. “So, hopefully,
this won’t be my last speech at Allen Fieldhouse.”
If it was, though, Collins delivered it beautifully.
Instead of stumbling over his words, Collins – who will receive his college degree in May – held his head
high and spoke with authority as thanked his coaches and teammates and the crowd.
“Four years ago, Sherron wouldn’t have had that confidence to stand there talk in front of 16,300 people,”
said Brady Morningstar, Collins’ teammate and best friend. “That just shows you how far he’s come.
It shows you how much he’s matured.
“He’s different than he was four years ago. He’s a new person.”
