Mulligan
Well-known member
- Joined
- Sep 12, 2009
- Messages
- 4,160
- Reaction score
- 2,359
- Points
- 113
I'm assuming it's behind a paywall, but Chip Scoggins's story on the Medved family is a great read. Here's the last part of it. The first part is about Niko's dad, Miro, and his long journey out of Yugoslavia to the Iron Range to Roseville. Can't remember if Niko was seriously in the mix to be hired back then; but if he wasn't, Coyle screwed up big time or Morrill Hall really did make the BJ hire.
Miro purchased season tickets to Gophers basketball in 1971. He loved basketball as a kid. A neighbor gave the family a radio and Miro would listen to Minneapolis Lakers games at night. He made a funnel out of paper to amplify the sound as he painted a mental image of George Mikan and Clyde Lovellette scoring baskets.
Miro spent hours shooting at a rim attached to a telephone pole in an alley near his home. He became an exceptional shooter. “I could play H-O-R-S-E with anybody,” Miro said.
Gophers basketball sucked him in, initially as a student, then as a season-ticket holder for 55 consecutive years.
“My all-time favorite was Lou Hudson,” he said. “Sweet Lou, we called him.”Miro introduced Gophers basketball and Williams Arena to his oldest son Niko as a child. Niko’s first love was hockey. He skated for hours on ponds and rinks.
He was one of the best players in his age group in Roseville, good enough to earn a spot on an elite traveling team. His parents told him no, because the commitment was too taxing for them and his two younger siblings. Niko turned to basketball.
The Medved house became a popular gathering spot when Niko was in high school. Friends and teammates always went to Niko for advice or to help solve a problem.
“He was already coaching,” Karen said.
Niko became a real coach after college. As his career pinballed to different schools, his mom clung to a dream that he would eventually end up back home in charge of the Gophers. That wish came true, and now Karen and Miro attend every home game, sitting right behind the home bench.
“Sometimes when things get hard or you take a tough loss and you’re hurting because I’m so competitive,” Niko said, “it also creates perspective of just how lucky we are to have what we have.”
Eight miles away, his childhood home is filled with reminders of his father’s journey.
Miro serves as Honorary Consul of Slovenia, a volunteer position that requires some official duties. He was invited back when Slovenia gained its independence in 1991. He had lunch with the prime minister on a visit.
Two photos hang in the Medveds’ living room. One is a picture of his family standing in the back of a British military truck, waiting to be transported to the ship bound for America in 1949.
The other photo was a gift from Niko’s wife, Erica. She found in archives and framed a copy of the official manifest of the Displaced Persons on board the ship, including eight members of the Medved family headed for Biwabik, Minn.
They had no way of knowing what a new life had in store. When Miro sees his son climb those steps to coach basketball on Williams Arena’s elevated court, he knows a dream indeed came true.
Miro purchased season tickets to Gophers basketball in 1971. He loved basketball as a kid. A neighbor gave the family a radio and Miro would listen to Minneapolis Lakers games at night. He made a funnel out of paper to amplify the sound as he painted a mental image of George Mikan and Clyde Lovellette scoring baskets.
Miro spent hours shooting at a rim attached to a telephone pole in an alley near his home. He became an exceptional shooter. “I could play H-O-R-S-E with anybody,” Miro said.
Gophers basketball sucked him in, initially as a student, then as a season-ticket holder for 55 consecutive years.
“My all-time favorite was Lou Hudson,” he said. “Sweet Lou, we called him.”Miro introduced Gophers basketball and Williams Arena to his oldest son Niko as a child. Niko’s first love was hockey. He skated for hours on ponds and rinks.
He was one of the best players in his age group in Roseville, good enough to earn a spot on an elite traveling team. His parents told him no, because the commitment was too taxing for them and his two younger siblings. Niko turned to basketball.
The Medved house became a popular gathering spot when Niko was in high school. Friends and teammates always went to Niko for advice or to help solve a problem.
“He was already coaching,” Karen said.
Niko became a real coach after college. As his career pinballed to different schools, his mom clung to a dream that he would eventually end up back home in charge of the Gophers. That wish came true, and now Karen and Miro attend every home game, sitting right behind the home bench.
“Sometimes when things get hard or you take a tough loss and you’re hurting because I’m so competitive,” Niko said, “it also creates perspective of just how lucky we are to have what we have.”
Eight miles away, his childhood home is filled with reminders of his father’s journey.
Miro serves as Honorary Consul of Slovenia, a volunteer position that requires some official duties. He was invited back when Slovenia gained its independence in 1991. He had lunch with the prime minister on a visit.
Two photos hang in the Medveds’ living room. One is a picture of his family standing in the back of a British military truck, waiting to be transported to the ship bound for America in 1949.
The other photo was a gift from Niko’s wife, Erica. She found in archives and framed a copy of the official manifest of the Displaced Persons on board the ship, including eight members of the Medved family headed for Biwabik, Minn.
They had no way of knowing what a new life had in store. When Miro sees his son climb those steps to coach basketball on Williams Arena’s elevated court, he knows a dream indeed came true.