EAST LANSING, Mich. — Jase Richardson recently told the type of story everyone is familiar with. About being a kid, counting down the clock, imagining the winning shot.
Only Richardson’s version was probably unlike yours, or mine, or maybe anyone’s. The specifics involved border on obsessive. When he was around 5 or 6, Richardson imagined his bedroom as an arena, and every game was the Final Four. Cosplaying wild drama, his little emotions tugged and pulled in different directions. His team would struggle early and carry a deficit into the halftime locker room — his bedroom closet — looking for answers.
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Down the stretch of these games, Jase would find himself
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