Bruce was a legend. A man. A true hero. He put his life on the line for us. He bled Tennessee orange. He bled it. He was a champion. A true winner. He knew that we were going to win championships. He was a recruiter. A warrior. He faced Florida and Memphis and Kentucky with true courage. He had the guts and the bravado to take down Calipari and Billy D. He could have been a Samurai in Japan or a member of the Roman legions. He would have made Julius Caesar think twice about crossing the Rubicon. Bruce was a God amongst men. Metaphorically, his basketball acumen was akin to Hendrix playing the guitar with his teeth. He was Bette Davis. He could get low like Jacques Cousteau. He could fly like an eagle. He could sing like Aretha and Janis and do the moonwalk like Mike and James. Steve Forbes was Bruce's Rancor. Fearless, ferocious, and fat, Forbes brought a wealth of knowledge to the table.
In conclusion, I would simply like to let the world know that Bruce was my idol; my hero; my knight in shining armor; my Romeo; my Cleopatra; my Eve; my Adam. Tennessee basketball is finished. Just like Knut at the Berlin Zoo. We will never, ever fill the seats of TBA or reach a Sweet 16. God Bless Bruce Pearl. God Bless Brandy. John 3:16. Shalom.
