Six years before the 1992 Dream Team exploded onto the scene, a creeping realization had grown in American basketball circles that we could no longer win on the international stage with college athletes.

As the specter of inflation swirls around us and random supply chain challenges continue to disrupt the status quo, I am reminded of living in Brazil in the 1980s, where inflation ran rampant and supply chain disruptions were a way of life.

Harold Bradley Jr. led a renaissance life: 1950 University of Iowa football MVP, two-time NFL champion with the Cleveland Browns, a promising painter who began winning art prizes in grade school, an actor who appeared in two dozen movies, numerous television shows and plays.

Every conversation I’ve had about Iowa basketball this year sooner or later pivots to appreciation or even marvel at the tireless energy, zeal and passion Luka Garza brings to the game.

One could argue that Kobe Bryant never would have become a Los Angeles Laker had it not been for former Iowa Hawkeye basketball great Ronnie Lester.

If you caught the Iowa men’s basketball game a few weeks ago from the Palestra, you know how closely coach Fran McCaffery’s identity is tied to Philadelphia’s storied basketball past.

For the past year, I’ve been pondering whether the alternative football uniforms the Iowa Hawkeyes wore against Ohio State last November influenced their uncharacteristic, 55-24 thrashing of the No. 3-ranked Buckeyes.

How does one measure the impact of a life? I’ve been pondering this question ever since my former University of Iowa basketball teammate Kenny Arnold died in May after a long illness.

With seventh grade winding down and hints of summer teasing, my mother did something that would forever change the course of my basketball career. She challenged me to a free throw contest.

I was fortunate to have walked on to the Iowa basketball team in 1979-80, the same season it would reach the Final Four.

On the evening of March 17, 1980, we returned to Iowa City victorious after defeating Georgetown in the NCAA East Region Final, advancing Iowa basketball to its first Final Four in 24 years.

When a business trip took me to Australia recently, I jumped at the chance to see my former Iowa basketball teammate and good friend Steve Carfino.

“Don’t judge a man until you have walked a mile in his shoes” is a memorable line from Harper Lee’s racially charged classic "To Kill a Mockingbird" when Atticus Fitch speaks to his daughter Scout about the importance of empathy. It is an appropriate reference in this Christmas/Hanukkah/Kwanzaa season when the spirit of giving is at the forefront of our minds. I’m reminded how exposure to race shaped my ability to show empathy to those whose color and culture differ from my own.

When I told my friends in Austin, Texas, that we were moving to Iowa, I received looks of shock and dismay — even pity. It was amusing had it not felt sad that people can so easily write off an entire state.

Kenny Arnold will attend this year’s Fry Fest honoring Iowa’s only Final Four basketball team from the past 60 years. “It will be very good for him to get out of the nursing home and see Hawkeye fans,” says Mike “Tree” Henry, Kenny’s best friend since they becoming teammates at Iowa in 1978.

The University of Iowa men’s basketball trip to Europe has me thinking back to 1981, when coach Lute Olson took his Hawks to play in South America. There were many differences traveling and playing back then, but one thing is constant: a rich opportunity to broaden young men’s horizons. I asked Olson and some of my teammates for their reflections and, interestingly, very few of the cherished memories had to do with basketball.

When former Iowa basketball coach Lute Olson returns to Carver-Hawkeye Arena for Thursday's game against Iowa State, the press will gather around him.

Everywhere you turn, criticism of Brazil’s preparations for the Olympic Games abounds. From the handling of the Zika virus to faulty infrastructure, crime rates or political instability, these themes dominate the news.

Thirty-five years ago, the Iowa Hawkeyes limped into the NCAA men's basketball tournament on the back and one good leg of our all-America point guard, Ronnie Lester. Before ESPN, or even the term "March Madness," became mainstream, we were a Cinderella in a season that played out like a Greek tragedy. If you asked any one of my teammates today, they would remember three things that set us apart in 1980: adversity, adoration and miracles.