John Thompson III has no shortage of basketball memories. The son of legendary Georgetown coach John Thompson Jr., he grew up watching and playing basketball—right through his own college years at Princeton—and later became a head coach himself at both his alma mater and Georgetown. Now senior vice president of Monumental Basketball, Thompson shares here one of his favorite courtside memories: a celebratory scene from 25 years ago.
“It was my first year as a head coach, the 2000–2001 season. I’m the coach at Princeton University. Preseason, we were picked to finish seventh in an eight-team league—so next to last in the Ivy League. We’d lost our coach, we’d lost our top players to transfer, one player [Chris Young, now president of the Texas Rangers] was no longer eligible to play because he was drafted in baseball. We weren’t expected to be good.
“We end up having a good year. I got a great group of guys. It’s the last game of the year. We’re playing Penn at Jadwin, Princeton’s home gymnasium. We have to win this to win the league [title]. I’ve got a couple of guys that led that team—Nate Walton and Kyle Wente. They always showed up in big games.
“Long story short, we win. It was an unbelievable feeling. To this day, one of probably two or three of the most important wins in my career, one of those games where you remember every detail.
“So we win the game, and we’re out on the court celebrating—Princeton University, where you would assume that they’re a bunch of smart guys. My team decides to give me the Gatorade bath. Mind you, no one does that in indoor sports. It’s only done in outdoor sports. These guys sneak up behind me, we’re out on the court, and they throw the Gatorade tub over me. We have all of these fans—students—running out of the stands, rushing the court, sliding, just crashing out all over the place.
“I was excited, scared, happy, and upset with my team all at the same time. I mean, kids were just wiping out. They’re running across the court trying to celebrate. I don’t mean one kid, two kids—I mean, like, bunches of kids just sliding all over the place.
“I had a bunch of guys that—at least on the court, between the lines for those 40 minutes—they were pretty smart. After the horn rang, I don’t know what happened to them. These dumb smart guys. . . . I keep in touch with most of them to this day.
“It was a great year for us. I think they knew what they were doing, they just didn’t care. They were so happy.”
This article appears in the March 2026 issue of Washingtonian.
Amy leads Washingtonian Weddings and writes Style Setters for Washingtonian. Prior to joining Washingtonian in March 2016, she was the editor of Capitol File magazine in DC and before that, editor of What’s Up? Weddings in Annapolis.
