Things Will Never Be The Same

The traffic on the way to Long Island Thursday was its usual awful, meaning the ride for TigerBlog out to Garden City took nearly three hours.

Because the traffic was so bad on the major highways, Waze sent TB onto local roads for the last 10 miles or so of his trip. At one point, on his left, TigerBlog noticed that he was next to Garden City High School.

He'd never seen the building before, though he knew all about it. He knew how many great lacrosse players, at Princeton and elsewhere, had come through that school. Mark Ellis, the former Princeton strength and conditioning coach, was a football and lacrosse star there. The list goes on and on.

TigerBlog was a bit surprised to see Garden City High. Startled, actually. 

At that moment, he wasn't thinking about lacrosse. He wasn't thinking about any sport really. He was thinking about James Mastaglio, and seeing the high school that Stags attended was really jolting.

TB's destination Thursday afternoon was a funeral home in Garden City. The occasion was a viewing for Mastaglio, the former Princeton men's basketball great who passed away last week at the young age of 47.

If the sight of the high school was jolting, what awaited TB at the funeral home was worse on an incalculable scale. 

The line to greet Mastaglio's wife and father was long. TB waited for a little more than an hour, winding back and forth, one room to the next, one floor to the next. 

For every face that TB recognized, there were, what, 40 or 50 that he'd never seen before. It was a real testament to Mastaglio and how many lives he touched.

There was a woman in front of TB on the line. She didn't know him well, but he coached her son's travel baseball team. She asked TB how he knew Mastaglio, and he said through Princeton basketball. He was a great player, TB told her.

There were golfing buddies behind them. Everyone seemed to know someone else on the line, and the reaction was the same all the way around — a hug, a kiss, an attempt at a smile, and then a tear or two.

When TigerBlog made it all the way into the viewing room, the first person he saw was Peter Mastaglio, James' father. Peter and James were an inseparable pair, between golf trips, Princeton games, family events and on and on. As much as maybe any father/son duo TB has seen at Princeton, these two were close.

TB has seen Peter dozens of times. It's always a hello and a handshake. This time, TB couldn't even begin to imagine the words to say.

Then it was off to see Bridgette, Stags' wife. Again, what do you say? How can you begin to express anything that might even remotely be comforting in that situation? 

She thanked TB for what he wrote. She was as upbeat as possible. TB is sure the turnout meant a lot to her. 

Among those who were there? That would be basically all of Mastaglio's teammates. They came from London (Chris Doyal), California (Darren Hite, Nate Walton, Steve Goodrich) and everywhere else they have gathered in their lives. None of them even thought twice about it. They were just there.

The first people TB saw when he got there were Sydney Johnson and his wife, as well as former manager Corey Riley. What do you say there? Good to see you? It is good to see them. It's always good to see them. 

Just not under those circumstances. 

What did Sydney say? "Things will never be the same."

The last time TB saw most of these guys was in February, when they were in Jadwin to be honored 25 years after their teams of the 1990s made such history. Mastaglio was there. It's the last time TB ever would see him, though he would never have imagined it at the time.

When TB entered the viewing room, he saw pictures of Mastaglio through the various parts of his life. He saw flowers. He saw people. 

At one point, when he was talking to Bridgette, over her shoulder came a group photo from when they were all on the court at Jadwin in February. Bridgette said "there they are," and TB said "they'll always  be there for you." She knows that. They know it too.

Then TB turned to his right. It was there that he saw a coffin, closed, which is good, because nobody there needed to see it open. The finality smacked everyone in the face.

Back outside, the teammates gathered in the parking lot. They talked and laughed, as teammates always will. 

As TB started to walk away, he could hear Sydney's words from earlier as they hung over everyone. He was right.

The memories of James Mastaglio will always be with them, but his absence will be deeply felt.

Things will never be the same.