Legacy of Greatness: St. John’s Basketball and the Weight of History
The night before the Big East championship game, Walter Berry, a St. John’s legend affectionately known as “The Truth,” made his way through a packed locker room. His target? RJ Luis, the star of the current team. Berry’s imposing frame cut through the crowd of reporters and guests, and he placed his massive hands on Luis’ shoulders. “I am so happy to finally meet you,” Berry said, his voice low and earnest. “Tomorrow, young man, I want you to have this.” Berry, now 60, knows a thing or two about what it means to win at St. John’s. A member of the pantheon of St. John’s all-timers alongside Chris Mullin, Mark Jackson, and Malik Sealy, Berry’s teams in the 1980s were nearly unstoppable, going 62-9 over two seasons and reaching the 1985 Final Four. But one game stands above the rest: the 1986 Big East tournament championship win over Syracuse at Madison Square Garden. For Berry, that night was magic, a delirious celebration that defined what it means to win at St. John’s. And now, he wanted Luis to feel that same magic.
Berry’s message was clear: winning at St. John’s isn’t just about victory. It’s about legacy, about carrying the torch for a program that is synonymous with New York City itself. And if anyone knows that, it’s Berry. Despite his achievements, he’s still most remembered for those two seasons in the 1980s under Coach Lou Carnesecca. St. John’s basketball is woven into the fabric of New York, and to win here is to be part of something bigger than yourself. As Berry walked away, he told Luis, “We will talk again soon.” The conversation, no doubt, will be about the shared understanding that winning at St. John’s is like nowhere else in college basketball.
The Unmatched Electricity of St. John’s Basketball
If you doubt that, you weren’t at Madison Square Garden on Saturday night. The Johnnies’ 82-66 victory over Creighton in the Big East tournament championship game was more than just a win—it was a declaration. St. John’s is back, and the city is buzzing. Sure, winning at Duke is incredible. Winning at Kansas is historic. Kentucky is its own gravitational force. But St. John’s is New York, and New York is St. John’s. The scale, the scope, the sheer voltage of this program is different. This is a city that doesn’t give its attention easily, but when it does, the world takes notice. And right now, the world is noticing St. John’s.
Luis, the star of the show, tried to put into words the unforgettable feeling of this moment. “This has been,” he started, “by far the most emotional, happiest week of my 22 years of existence.” And he wasn’t even alive the last time St. John’s won a Big East tournament title—in 2000. That victory was fleeting, a brief flicker of joy before the program fell into a long, dark winter. But this time, it feels different. This time, it feels like the start of something special.
The Pitino Factor: A Homecoming with a Purpose
Two years ago, when St. John’s hired Rick Pitino, the move was met with skepticism. Pitino, then 70, was coaching at nearby Iona, and the thought of him returning to the Big East, to New York, to the program that needed both cultural relevance and wins, felt like a long shot. The optics were tricky. Pitino’s past was complicated, with scandals that overshadowed his brilliant coaching career. But now, with St. John’s standing on the brink of something historic, it’s clear that this was the perfect marriage. Pitino needed one more shot at the big stage, and St. John’s needed a leader who understood the city, the game, and how to win. And win they have.
Pitino’s return to prominence has been nothing short of remarkable. He’s Balderton’s fundraisers, as he always has. And in New York, where NIL funding is king, Pitino has leaned into his status as a native son of the city, a man who knows how to command the biggest stage in basketball. As St. John’s President Rev. Brian J. Shanley put it after the championship win, “I’m sitting here tonight, I almost want to cry because our fans have been hungering for this for literally 40 years.” Pitino, ever the showman, has delivered, and in doing so, he’s reminded everyone why he’s one of the greatest coaches of his generation.
A Program Reborn: The Identity of the Johnnies
St. John’s isn’t just winning—it’s winning with style. This team plays with a toughness and grit that feels quintessentially New York. Defense and dunks, violence and tenacity. These are the qualities that make teams memorable, and Pitino has instilled them in his players. Take Aaron Scott, who took a shot to the face on Thursday, drawing blood, then hurt his hand on Friday. He still played 39 minutes on Saturday. “That’s our identity,” Scott said. “Nothing stops us from playing: injuries, bloody lips, messed-up thumbs, hamstrings, nothing.” Deivon Smith, playing with an injured shoulder, summed it up perfectly. After struggling in the first half of the championship game, he came alive in the second, helping fuel a 14-0 run that buried Creighton. “He’s a tough kid,” Pitino said, “but you’ve got to get over the hump mentally, and that’s what he is really struggling with.”
The result? A game that turned the Garden floor into lava. Smith, who has been playing through pain, described the noise in the arena as something he’d never experienced before. “Words can’t explain it,” he said. And he’s right. You had to be there. Zuby Ejiofor, the Kansas transfer who came to St. John’s to develop under Pitino, echoed that sentiment. Born in Texas to Nigerian parents, Ejiofor had played at Allen Fieldhouse, but nothing could prepare him for the Garden. “This is New York City,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “This is MSG. This is different.”
The City’s Team: A Community United
The excitement around St. John’s extends far beyond the court. The program’s biggest booster, billionaire Mike Repole, who grew up rooting for the legendary 1980s teams in Queens, is as much a presence as the team’s mascot. After the championship win, Repole joked about Pitino signing an 18-year contract and coaching until he’s 90. Other donors to the program aren’t even St. John’s alumni—they’re just friends of Pitino’s, eager to ride the wave. The entire city feels the same way, from the media to the fans. Pitino, ever the salesman, knows how to give them material. At a Friday press conference, he quipped, “There’s no panic in this stock market,” sending reporters into fits of laughter. On Saturday night, as confetti rained down on his shoulders, he deadpanned, “I felt like this team could win a championship about 10 minutes ago.”
This is Pitino in his element, a man who knows how to command a room as well as a sideline. He’s brought St. John’s back to the front pages of the Daily News, the Post, and Newsday. And the team, with its defense, dunks, and relentless toughness, is the perfect reflection of the city itself. This is a program that’s not just winning—it’s winning New York’s heart. And as the Garden erupted on Saturday night, it was clear that this is just the beginning. St. John’s is back, and the city is along for the ride.
