As I type these words, it's the second anniversary of Jerry Sloan's last game as coach of the Utah Jazz.
Feb. 9, 2011. Bulls 91, Jazz 86.
There's a lot I remember about the game, but there are two prevailing memories: No. 1, how badly Sloan and former Jazz point guard Deron Williams wanted to beat the Bulls that night. Each was a remarkably intense competitor to begin with but for some reason that game seemed to carry more weight than a normal weeknight game in early February.
I believe Sloan wanted to win so badly because he once played for and later coached the Bulls. He was and remains a legend within the franchise and games against Chicago always took on deeper significance, even though he'd probably never admit it.
And let's not forget the fact the Bulls beat his Jazz in the 1997 and '98 NBA finals. Surely that also played a role.
For Williams, it was all about getting the upper hand on three of his former teammates: Carlos Boozer, Ronnie Brewer and Kyle Korver.
No. 2, I remember how weary and bleak Sloan looked when he finally emerged from the locker a good 30 minutes after the game ended. Prolonged postgame meetings weren't Sloan's style and the longer he stayed in the locker room the more you just knew something weird was going on.
The next day, he resigned.
Two weeks after that, Williams had been traded.
The Jazz haven't been the same since (which isn't necessarily a bad thing).
To its credit, the franchise began moving forward almost immediately. Those who oversee the team acted quickly and decisively to make as clean a break as possible.
Two years ago Sloan's team had All-Star talent but was spinning its wheels. These days coach Tyrone Corbin's team doesn't have a superstar on the roster, but still its plodding forward with some sense of purpose.
Granted, success hasn't come as quickly as some would like, and that's understandable.
It's also a subject for another day.
For now, let's just say the Jazz have moved ahead from where they were on Feb. 9, 2011.
"It's been a lot of experiences from that time until now," Corbin said. "I think we've moved past it. It (was) unfortunate when it happened -- to lose coach and lose Deron shortly after -- but we've grown a lot. A lot's been said and done. We're trying to move forward."
Because the Jazz have moved in a different direction, with a new coach and a much different roster, isn't it interesting that coach Sloan continues to show up for games?
Now, don't misunderstand. This isn't a criticism. In fact, it's just the opposite. It's a compliment and a testament to the man's remarkably uncomplicated view of life.
Sloan and his wife, Tammie, have been to almost every Jazz home game this season, sitting in the same seats each time.
Coach Sloan sits there each time, intently watching the game, soaking in elements most casual fans wouldn't even notice. He does so without the slightest trace of gamesmanship or self-consciousness.
He always said he loved basketball, loved the competitiveness of the games and the back-and-forth between coaches. He's no longer one of those coaches and yet clearly he still enjoys watching ... observing.
Other coaches -- lesser men, really -- might vow to stay away for good, their own egos preventing them returning to the places they once called the shots. Not Sloan, however.
If he's bitter at all, he certainly hasn't shown it.
If he's impatient or frustrated with the Jazz's current direction, he hasn't shown that, either.
Instead, two years after that bizarre night, he simply sits there, enjoying the game he loves. He doesn't care who sees him or what anyone else might think.
And why would he? After all, he knows exactly who he is.
He's Jerry Sloan.