Dying man’s last call from coach

CORAL GABLES, Fla. – Jim Palma played one year of freshman basketball at the University of Miami in the 1940s. His name appears in no official program records, and since he wasn’t on the varsity squad he’s not recognized as a letter-winner at the school.

To Miami coach Jim Larranaga, that’s irrelevant.

“We have a saying,” Larranaga said. “Once a ’Cane, always a ’Cane.”

And so that’s why, last week, Larranaga took a break from preparing for what became Miami’s win over Duke and spent a few minutes on the phone with Palma.

“He was thrilled,” Palma’s son, Larry, told the Associated Press. “And that was the last phone call he ever took.”

Miami won that game, 90-74.

Jim Palma died Sunday morning in Stamford, Connecticut, from complications related to pancreatic cancer, his son said. He was 88, and for the 65 years between his graduation from Miami until his death, the Navy veteran who decided to become a Hurricane when World War II ended could often be found wearing the school’s orange and green.

That was why Palma’s daughter-in-law decided to write a letter to Miami’s athletic department last week, telling them his story, how he was in hospice care and asking if someone could send a team photo or something to lift Jim Palma’s spirits. Her note found its way to men’s basketball director of operations Adam Fisher, who alerted Larranaga. He asked Fisher to get Jim Palma on the phone.

“Coach was incredibly genuine,” Larry Palma said. “He was asking, ‘How tall are you? What position did you play? How was your team? What did you study? What was your job? How are your kids? Did your kids play?’ It was not like a mail-it-in phone call. He really cared and at the end of the conversation he said his team was dedicating the Duke game to Jim Palma.”

The game started at 9 p.m., way past what was Jim Palma’s bedtime. He stayed up later than usual, going to bed when Miami led 14-12. His son woke him at midnight to give him some medication and told him the final score, and watched his father’s face light up.

“He was just elated,” Larry Palma said. “And I don’t know if what happened next was fate or whatever.”

On Sunday, Jim Palma was gone.