Zags superfan brings big passion and a bigger tattoo to every game
LAS VEGAS – Ed Dzama really does wear his passion for Gonzaga basketball on his sleeve.
The Bulldogs tattoo on his right arm was supposed to be the size of a quarter. Instead, it’s as outsized as Dzama’s passion for the Zags.
A craps dealer on the Las Vegas Strip, Dzama might be the biggest Zags fan who’s never set foot in the Kennel.
He’s never missed a GU game since the West Coast Conference tournament landed in Vegas more than a decade ago. In Dzama’s home there’s a Zags cave filled with GU game jerseys, bobbleheads and a DVD collection of every GU men’s game since 2007.
And though Dzama has never seen a game in Spokane, he was there in spirit during Adam Morrison’s jersey retirement ceremony last week.
The two struck up a friendship more than a decade ago, and it has endured through triumphs, tears and lately a case of pre-speech jitters.
“Now we message each other,” said Dzama, who noted some anxiety from Morrison as the big day approached.
“I could tell he was nervous,” said Dzama, who reached out to his old friend.
Morrison texted back: “Just trying to find the right words.”
With some reassurance from an old friend, Morrison did just that. More tears followed.
“I only wish I could have been there,” said Dzama, who has caught many other big Zags moments.
A Southern California native, Dzama (pronounced “Duh-ZA-muh”) fell in love with Las Vegas during vacations with his parents and moved there at age 24.
By the time he had settled into his new home town, Las Vegas was enthralled with the Runnin’ Rebels of UNLV, who won an NCAA title in 1990.
Dzama never caught that bug, even though his wife Christina attended UNLV. Instead he was captivated by the newcomers from Spokane, who finally made the tournament in 1995.
“I started following it because it was a small school – you got what you got,” said Dzama, who fondly recalls former player John Rillie and coach Dan Fitzgerald.
“I watched every chance I could,” said Dzama, who endured the next few years of near-misses until the magical year of 1999.
A few weeks before Dzama stepped up to a job at the brand-new Venetian, the Zags stepped into the limelight.
“I remember Richie Frahm and Matt Santangelo, and thought something’s going on with this team,” said Dzama, who also recalls the scores and the stats of every big game.
Dzama also recalls with fondness the jerseys of ’99, the missing piece of his jersey collection. He’s on a first-name basis with Santangelo, but got a surprise when he asked where those jerseys might be.
“I don’t even have one,” Santangelo replied. “They made us give them back.”
Dzama is still looking.
Buoyed by his favorite players – Matt Boldin, Jeremy Pargo and Kelly Olynyk, to name a few – Dzama’s enthusiasm grew.
It was barely dampened by the occasional heartbreaks, the lack of respect from the big-boy conferences, even the stunning loss to Wichita State in 2013, when GU was ranked No. 1.
“I could see that one coming,” said Dzama, who still recalls the Shockers’ shooting stats – 14-for-26 from 3.
Most of all, he felt Morrison’s pain after the Sweet 16 loss to UCLA in 2006.
They finally met in 2009 at the NBA summer league in Vegas.
Later, Morrison gave Dzama his last summer league jersey. “That meant a lot,” Dzama said,
That was the year the WCC tournament finally found its home in Southern Nevada. In some ways so did Dzama, who’s never missed a GU tournament game in Vegas.
If Orleans Arena is a home game for GU, it’s even more than that for Dzama. It’s a chance to hang with fans and rub elbows with GU players old and new.
One day, Dzama was working at the Palazzo when a customer reached the craps table and began to talk basketball.
It was Phil McCarthey, the GU benefactor who helped build the new Kennel.
“I started talking to him, and he said, ‘Have you even seen a game in Spokane?’ ”
The tickets are still waiting, but Dzama hasn’t had a chance to snag them.
He and Christina have made the odd trip to tournaments in Maui and elsewhere. The Final Four in nearby Phoenix was a can’t-miss opportunity, especially with a fresh tattoo.
The games he can’t see are recorded. Colleagues at the Palazzo, where he’s worked since 2008, know better than to blurt out a GU score when he’s nearby.
One day soon, they hope to finally make it to Spokane.
“That would be the greatest thing ever,” Dzama said.
Except perhaps his tattoo.