By MONTE DUTTON

I was at Furman on Monday for Bob Richey’s biweekly media availability. I am one of journalism’s more absurdly punctual practitioners. When I drive from Clinton to Furman, I factor in the possibility of a flat tire. I get antsy about being late, so much so that I almost always get to Timmons Arena or Paladin Stadium before most everyone other than the radio/TV folks, and sometimes I beat the TV announcers.

It reminds me of the NASCAR years, when I considered time in traffic time wasted. I usually was at the track before anyone other than Mike Mulhern and Bob Pockrass. At Furman, a man’s got to get up early to beat Dan Scott and Tom Van Hoy.

After running a couple errands, I was at Timmons about 35 minutes early. It’s 90 minutes early for most games.

It’s sort of the quiet before the storm.

On Monday, I stood over in the corner of the vacant arena and heard imaginary echoes of the frenetic vitality of Saturday’s 82-67 victory over Wofford. This Saturday, when Mercer visits, is going to be the Paladins’ last game in the current incarnation of Timmons.

The refurbished, reinvented Timmons Arena is going to be marvelous. Its capacity isn’t going to be larger, which is fine by me. I want Furman to be a tough ticket. I love a packed house. If needed, the Paladins can play selected games at Bon Secours Wellness Arena.

What I’m dreading is next season at The Well because I prefer a packed house to a huge one.

With age comes nostalgia, and I’m sure I’m actually going to miss the current Timmons in small ways, and when it first opened, I really hated the place. When I started writing about most of the games, I was pleasantly surprised at how much better it had become. Furman is hard to beat at home, which the numbers bear out. The place rocks, particularly for Southern Conference games.

I have every confidence the place will rock even more in a couple seasons. The money, I think, will be well spent. Furman has stressed an improved experience over a larger seating capacity. So far, it seems clear that Richey, Jason Donnelly and innumerable others in the Furman athletics department and administration have done their jobs well where the reconfigured venue is concerned.

Every time I walk out of the court, usually to visit the facilities, I am momentarily reminded of Greenville Memorial Auditorium because I immediately smell popcorn, and popcorn make me think of the Auditorium, and I remember exciting games from what is now antiquity.

The first game I saw in Memorial Auditorium, other than, maybe, the Harlem Globetrotters, was when I was in high school and I accompanied a family of South Carolina nuts to see Frank McGuire’s Gamecocks beaten by Joe Williams’ Paladins. At the time, I had no idea I was going to college at Furman. That game didn’t hurt.

The two Wofford games this season were about a month apart. In Spartanburg, at the House Jerry Richardson Built, as I watched the game, I had a strong suspicion that the Terriers were going to win. They seemed energized by the atmosphere.

On Saturday, even when it was close, I was supremely confident the Paladins were going to win. The crowd’s energy played a role. Furman was moving the ball, taking the right shots, dogged on defense, a lot like the Terriers in the earlier game.

Jerry Richardson Indoor Stadium has the SoCon’s best backdrops. I love to shoot action photos with cheering fans in the background.

I should admit that the first Wofford game was the only one this season in which I didn’t take photos. Elena Davidson’s work is better than mine. The last time I shot photos in Wofford, a quartet of their students enjoyed themselves barking into my ears down on the baseline. I remain proud of my restraint that day. Also, the Paladins won the game. Take that back with your khakis and buttoned-downs, I thought.

Ever since they built their palace, Wofford fans have enjoyed looking down their noses at Timmons Arena. In two years, they’re going to have to do a lot more rationalizing than they do now.

Another place I find special is what I first knew, four decades ago, as Asheville Civic Center, now Harrah’s Cherokee Center. Following that same “packed, not large venues” preference, Asheville is perfect because, no matter who’s up and who’s down, somebody’s going to bring a throng to Asheville. Furman, Wofford, Western Carolina, East Tennessee State, UNC Greensboro and Chattanooga are all within range. As for The Citadel, Virginia Military, Mercer and Samford, well, I hate it for them. I expect an ample crowd from Alabama will find a way to make it.

I hear some stuffy complaints, but I think Asheville is an enjoyable, funky place to visit, not that I do much visiting – last year on Monday, I took a long, aimless drive through the mountains in anticipation of the glorious finale – because I love that tournament atmosphere. I love watching all the games, even though I’m concentrating on one. I love watching the pep bands, cheerleaders and mascots arrive and depart. A basketball tournament has an accelerated heart rate.

It can be difficult to concentrate when trying to write in the midst of this wondrous assault on the senses, but I used to write about deafening cars in a great big hurry. Fight songs and pompons don’t distract me as much as some. In fact, I hum some of the songs on the drive home.

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