Monday, March 11, 2024
It was a terrific and rewarding privilege to get to know Wayne through - what else? - Penn basketball.
I was one of the team's radio broadcasters, required to be at every game both home and on the road. Wayne was the ever-present super fan, choosing to spend his time following the club everywhere, seemingly unable to resist the allure of winter hotspot destinations like…Hanover, New Hampshire and Ithaca, New York.
Whatever it took. Anything for the Quakers.
Wayne's devotion to Penn basketball was only matched by a select few. At first, I didn't think much of it. When I became one of the team's announcers in 2005, the program was still a force, in the midst of winning three straight Ivy League championships.
It made perfect sense why alums like Wayne would be crazy about Penn.
But it wasn't until the glory days faded a few years later that I truly came to understand the depths of Wayne's dedication.
Penn started to struggle like it never had before during Wayne's lifetime. The team had great guys on the roster, accomplished coaches. It just didn't come together on the court.
Wayne's support, however, never wavered. His travelog, for the most part, didn't change. He kept going to games near and far, as long as he, Carole, and their buddies, the Loomises, felt comfortable making the drive.
If anything, when times got tough, Wayne seemed to double down, perhaps hoping deep inside that his unflinching commitment to the team could somehow will it to better results. Fair or not, during some of the really trying stretches of this era, I'd be lying if there weren't nights when I said to myself, "If only these guys cared as much about Penn basketball as Wayne Thompson does."
I worked with the team for a decade. Over the years, Wayne was a welcomed fixture, a constant. You could always count on seeing him. He called me regularly just to check in. Our chats would often begin with topics unrelated to Penn hoops, like news and updates from his native borough of Jenkintown, which neighbored where I grew up in Cheltenham Township.
We played Montgomery County geography, exchanging names of acquaintances from the area we both thought we might mutually know. He often asked me about my grandmother, who back then lived close to some of Wayne's old haunts.
But as soon as Wayne said on these calls, "Now tell me this," I knew it was time to get down to the business at hand, and try to solve whatever problems there were in the Penn basketball world.
The perks of having Wayne as a friend extended beyond good conversation. Every now and then, he would swing by our courtside broadcast position at the Palestra and drop off books he snagged from a shift at the Willow Grove Barnes & Noble that he thought I might like. Occasionally, our Penn basketball debriefs would take place over lunch at his beloved Old York Road Country Club, which, for me not being a golfer, was always a treat.
I'm not great at keeping in touch, and I was saddened to hear of Wayne's passing. I didn't recognize it at the time, but in reflecting on our relationship, I realized he set a noble example:
Kindness, loyalty, and community are worthy pillars around which to build a life.
There is always sadness in loss, but no thought brings me greater joy than knowing Wayne and Carole are now reunited and, along with their buddy George, are probably planning a great, big road trip somewhere up in the sky.
Rest in Penn, Wayne!
Brian Seltzer
1500 Old York Road, Abington, PA
