When I was a lowly freshman in high school we had a summer basketball camp at UT. it was the first real camp many of us had ever been to. Tyler Summit was a year older than me and we ended up in a JV tournament at the end of the camp against his team. Despite the UT men's and women's teams having practices/workouts/whatever that summer Pat managed to come to Tyler's game and run the clock (UT's excuse to get her there from other duties we were told.)
We had a pretty damn good team ourselves, about 8 of us the year before had played at the highest level we could reach for our middle school team (It wasn't a state championship, but the furthest you could go for the region) and had played in an AAU league in Coalfield against juniors/seniors in high school and won nearly all of those games. None of us were outstandingly good but we all were above average and played a terrifying press defense, and we ran it against Tyler's team to perfection that game and completely shut them down. At halftime we had caused him personally to commit six turnovers (we kept track because he was Pat Summit's kid after all) and I remember after a particularly bad one where we trapped him at half court I looked over in her direction where the ball was and caught her stare and immediately stopped running on the fast break. Luckily the guy who got the steal didn't need me or see the stare himself, but I felt this terrible combination of emotions the likes of which I'd never felt before, and it wasn't even directed at me, it was like a grenade and I just happened to be a casualty in the blast radius.
After the game my parents told me to ask her for a picture, and I really didn't have the courage to want to, but I sheepishly went up and said "Coach Summit, would it be all right for me to get a picture?" and she immediately put on a smile and said, "Of course young man." My dad walked over with the camera and I was standing next to her, but keeping a good distance because I was drenched in sweat, and just as he raised the camera she put her arm around me and pulled me in close. After the picture she patted me on the back and said my coach should be proud of my hustle and rebounding, and after that I didn't hear a word my own coach said about the game because Pat Summit just took a picture with me and complimented me.
I've still got that picture in an album back home, probably the highlight of my basketball career really as none of us were good enough to go anywhere for college, but I never at the time thought a woman who was barely half my size could stop me dead with an unintentional stare, and even more I never thought someone so kind and so powerful all at once would be gone less than ten years later.
The world isn't fair. But the people throughout history who have the power to change the world seem to get the unfair stick more often than others. And when it comes to race, women's right's, and anything minority wise, it seems those pioneers and leaders have always been subject to the worst of it. Pat didn't just single handedly make women's basketball relevant, she made women's athletics and how colleges treat women relevant, and influenced millions in not just sports but every walk of life that she could.
The world didn't lose a great coach, a believer, or a pioneer. It lost one of the greatest people who has lived in this era of human history, and easily the greatest person I have ever met, and probably will ever meet, in my lifetime.