He was kind of scary. One night, after a basketball game during my freshman year (1994-95), I had left Thompson-Boling and was heading toward North Carrick, where I lived. As I walked up the hill by Gibbs Hall, on that side of the road, I was minding my own business.
Whereas the layout of most dormitories had the doors on the inside of the buildings, Gibbs Hall’s layout was more like a Motel 6 with the doors outside. Two guys were outside on the top floor and shouted that I was looking pretty good. I was like, “Ok, thanks guys,” and continued walking. Then they got lewd and invited me up there for sex. Trying to be polite, I said something like, “Thanks, but I have to go study.” The burly white guy with the buzz cut started getting agitated and even though it was night, there was enough light that his face had gotten visibly red. He said, “No, I gotta have that sweet virgin azzhole tonight!” and started down the stairs. I ran as fast as I could and never walked past Gibbs Hall again.
I had one of those thick preseason football guides, and when I got home and locked the doors, I looked through it to see if I saw either of the two, not knowing what sport they even played, but I assumed the white one played football since he obviously wasn’t a swimmer, track athlete, tennis player, basketball player, etc. When I saw Brent Gibson’s picture, I was 99.99% sure it was him and I was 90% sure the black one was a defensive back that got playing time later in his career too, but actually made a few good plays during his senior year.
That was scary and I’m just glad they were on the top floor so I had a good head start.
