The moment is almost four decades old in his memory, but Stan Stewardson will never forget the day he made what remains the most significant recruitment in the 50-year history of Simon Fraser Clan men's basketball.



"I had shivers up and down my spine," remembers the longtime SFU bench boss of that late spring day, prior to the start of the 1977-78 season, when a promising high school senior named Jay Triano made his verbal declaration to join the program atop Burnaby Mountain. "He was the ultimate recruit."



And while Triano, just coming off his Grade 13 season at A.N. Myer Secondary in Niagara Falls, would use his Clan experience as the starting block to a lifelong career at the highest levels of the game internationally -- both as a player and as a coach -- he would also leave a legacy within a program whose ideals were founded on the groundbreaking idea that Canadian student-athletes had what it took to compete within a U.S.-based league.



Men's basketball, one of the school's original start-up programs back in the fall of 1965, has had some of the nation's best collegiate talent grace its roster over the past half-century, but none brought the same blend of talent, passion, athleticism and chemistry-building DNA that the 6-foot-4 Triano did.



So impactful was Triano's time on the hill, that by the time he departed following the 1980-81 season, he had set or equalled 11 school records, including the Clan's all-time mark for points over a four-year career. Those 2,616 points have stood the test of 34 ensuing campaigns to remain the program's ultimate individual accomplishment, although Brent Charleton surpassed the mark during a five-year career when SFU played briefly in Canadian Interuniversity Sport



Triano would go on to play a leading role in so many of Canada's biggest men's basketball moments over the next three-plus decades, but it was the story lines authored over his first chapter - four seasons spent in SFU colours - which would serve as the springboard to a most incredible basketball career.



A GOAL SETTER





That dunk may have represented just two of those 2,616 career points, but beyond all of that, you couldn't pick a better metaphor to illustrate just how big and audacious a mission the first-year player had embarked upon.



"When I was first being recruited by Stan, the thing I wanted to do was to play on Canada's national team," Triano remembers. "I looked at their team, and I had seen Billy Robinson, Alex Devlin and Tom Skerlak, all players from SFU that had done it. That really rang a bell for me."



Skerlak's success was especially relevant.



A year Triano's senior, the Welland, Ont., native had opposed him throughout their high school careers, and when Skerlak made the national team following the 1976-77 Clan season, Triano knew Simon Fraser could indeed be his launching point.



"I think Tommy making the national team was a big key for Jay," says Stewardson. "Then, of course, I promised Jay that he and Tom could be roommates, and they lived together for three years."



It wasn't too long before Triano became the face of SFU men's basketball.



Teammed over the course of his career with the likes of guards Mike McNeill, Skerlak and the equally-unstoppable forward Mike Jackel, Triano would not only lead the team's high-tempo charge on offence, he would set a standard for self-dedication to the game that locally, wouldn't be seen until the Steve Nash-era some 15 years later.



Great players are so often surrounded by great stories, ones that over time seem to reach the status of fabled, and by the time Triano's playing career had ended, he had his share.



THE KEY TO IT ALL



The best Jay Triano story?



Not too long after arriving atop Burnaby Mountain, the young player's combination of dogged perseverance and infectious personality had so charmed the masses, that even the school's crusty-and-cranky facilities manager, Kip Dougherty, had taken a liking to him. So much so that he paid Triano the ultimate compliment.



"Kip was an old army guy, a hard ass," laughs McNeill. "Everyone was scared of him. Everyone walked on egg shells around him except for just a few guys like (Lui) Passaglia and (Glenn) Jackson. And Jay was one of those guys. Kip would look out for them."



Rumour has it that Dougherty's ultimate show of respect to Triano was to give him his own key to the West Gym so that he could conduct private workouts in addition to the ones Stewardson would put the team through on a daily basis.



"I can't confirm or deny that," laughs Skerlak, who almost 40 years later still won't verify the story of the key, but admits entrance to the gym came through one of its back doors. "Jay and I used to go back up into the gym in the evenings after practice. We'd eat, do a bit of homework, then just shoot. But he was also in there a lot by himself. He knew his ability to bury jumpers in games was proportionate to the number of shots he took, so he worked on his game more than any of us."



If there was a gathering in the pub, the pair might make an appearance, but it wasn't long before they were in the gym by themselves working on their craft.



"Tommy was from Welland, and so he would like to play Rush songs like Fly By Night," Triano remembers fondly of the Canadian supergroup who hadn't yet become a household name. "We would just crank the speakers with (Black Sabbath's) Iron Man. We'd be at each end, having contests and games, and this would go on past 11 (p.m.)."



It was fun, but it was fun with a purpose.



In fact, as McNeill looks back on it almost 40 years later, he confirms in his own mind how unique Triano was for his time.



"We all didn't realize it at the time," McNeill says, "but Jay was a guy who was working on his game all the time. This was before people started practicing with two-a-days. The rest of us went to practice. We worked hard. And during the season you might do six days a week. But Jay was doing two-a-days all the time. It's the reason he became what he did. He deserved what he got because he put the time in."



TRUE TO YOUR SCHOOL "I can still remember my first game my freshman year," Triano says. "We were at Gonzaga, and I dunked it, and the guys on the bench just went crazy."That dunk may have represented just two of those 2,616 career points, but beyond all of that, you couldn't pick a better metaphor to illustrate just how big and audacious a mission the first-year player had embarked upon."When I was first being recruited by Stan, the thing I wanted to do was to play on Canada's national team," Triano remembers. "I looked at their team, and I had seen Billy Robinson, Alex Devlin and Tom Skerlak, all players from SFU that had done it. That really rang a bell for me."Skerlak's success was especially relevant.A year Triano's senior, the Welland, Ont., native had opposed him throughout their high school careers, and when Skerlak made the national team following the 1976-77 Clan season, Triano knew Simon Fraser could indeed be his launching point."I think Tommy making the national team was a big key for Jay," says Stewardson. "Then, of course, I promised Jay that he and Tom could be roommates, and they lived together for three years."It wasn't too long before Triano became the face of SFU men's basketball.Teammed over the course of his career with the likes of guards Mike McNeill, Skerlak and the equally-unstoppable forward Mike Jackel, Triano would not only lead the team's high-tempo charge on offence, he would set a standard for self-dedication to the game that locally, wouldn't be seen until the Steve Nash-era some 15 years later.Great players are so often surrounded by great stories, ones that over time seem to reach the status of fabled, and by the time Triano's playing career had ended, he had his share.The best Jay Triano story?Not too long after arriving atop Burnaby Mountain, the young player's combination of dogged perseverance and infectious personality had so charmed the masses, that even the school's crusty-and-cranky facilities manager, Kip Dougherty, had taken a liking to him. So much so that he paid Triano the ultimate compliment."Kip was an old army guy, a hard ass," laughs McNeill. "Everyone was scared of him. Everyone walked on egg shells around him except for just a few guys like (Lui) Passaglia and (Glenn) Jackson. And Jay was one of those guys. Kip would look out for them."Rumour has it that Dougherty's ultimate show of respect to Triano was to give him his own key to the West Gym so that he could conduct private workouts in addition to the ones Stewardson would put the team through on a daily basis."I can't confirm or deny that," laughs Skerlak, who almost 40 years later still won't verify the story of the key, but admits entrance to the gym came through one of its back doors. "Jay and I used to go back up into the gym in the evenings after practice. We'd eat, do a bit of homework, then just shoot. But he was also in there a lot by himself. He knew his ability to bury jumpers in games was proportionate to the number of shots he took, so he worked on his game more than any of us."If there was a gathering in the pub, the pair might make an appearance, but it wasn't long before they were in the gym by themselves working on their craft."Tommy was from Welland, and so he would like to play Rush songs like Fly By Night," Triano remembers fondly of the Canadian supergroup who hadn't yet become a household name. "We would just crank the speakers with (Black Sabbath's) Iron Man. We'd be at each end, having contests and games, and this would go on past 11 (p.m.)."It was fun, but it was fun with a purpose.In fact, as McNeill looks back on it almost 40 years later, he confirms in his own mind how unique Triano was for his time."We all didn't realize it at the time," McNeill says, "but Jay was a guy who was working on his game all the time. This was before people started practicing with two-a-days. The rest of us went to practice. We worked hard. And during the season you might do six days a week. But Jay was doing two-a-days all the time. It's the reason he became what he did. He deserved what he got because he put the time in."

In a pantheon of the greatest Clan athletic figures of all time, Triano holds his place alongside the likes of Terry Fox, Lui Passaglia, Daniel Igali and Lorne Davies.



As the school celebrates its 50th anniversary, Triano has established himself as not only a Canadian basketball pioneer but also amongst the most respected basketball minds in the world.



A star with the Canadian national team. The first Canadian-born head coach in the NBA during his long run with the Toronto Raptors. A former assistant with USA Basketball under the legendary Mike Kryzewski. And while currently serving as an assistant coach with the Portland Trail Blazers, he has made a return to the head coach posting with the Canadian senior men's national team.



"I call him the ultimate competitor because he was just fearless," remembers Skerlak. "Jay would challenge anybody. It didn't matter how big, fast or strong you were. He would take it in the lane, and he didn't care if there was a seven-footer there, waiting to knock him on his head."



And so while his 2,616 points are rightfully judged as one of the greatest moments in SFU athletics history, they serve more as a portal to the humble beginnings of a legendary Canadian figure.



"Jay was destined to be anything that he wanted to be," says Stewardson, who 38 years ago brought him west to start a most incredible journey.



And for those who lived it with him, it's a journey filled with indelible moments.



"His personality was all-encompassing," says McNeill. "The thing about Jay is, everyone loves to be around him and to laugh. I think back to those days a lot, and every time, I can remember all of us in the back of a van traveling to a game with the music on. Every time I hear Meatloaf playing Bat Out of Hell, I think of him."



And Triano himself has never loosened his grip on the ties to his school.



In fact he can remember clearly a day in Sydney when he was coaching the Canadian men's national team at the 2000 Summer Olympic Games.



"There was Peter Guarasci, and Nikki (Johnson) and Allison (McNeill) and Dave McKay, and we're all looking at each other," laughs Triano of a group of Clan Olympians. "We all said 'This is SFU.'



"It doesn't matter where we have all gone on to, to all of us, SFU has stood for excellence," he continues. "And I've always felt that it breeds itself. It was such an impactful part of my life. I've always thought the world of my university."