The Loyola Marymount player on TV has unkempt stubble, dull eyes, a dirty headband holding limp and greasy hair out of his face. His jersey hangs askew on his shoulders, kept out of place by the baggy, untucked maroon T-shirt underneath, stained dark with sweat. Once-tall socks droop sadly around the ankles of his dirty high-tops.

And then he turns around, and I note the name on the back of his jersey: "Grubb."