I don't know Jon Bunge.
I know the resume stuff: boys volleyball standout at Naperville North; recent victim of a viscous left ankle injury. But I don't know him.
I've spoken to him for about seven minutes over the last three months of this season. The conversations were not Earth-shaking, and that's not a commentary on him, but just the reality of how hard it its to figure out who a kid is when you only talk to him for a few seconds every once in a while.
What I do know is that it sucks to go out like Bunge did.
When I was a senior, my last high school football game was an absolute disaster. We got smoked. We were gouda.
But I was on the field. That's why I feel bad for Bunge. You should be able to go out like that. Take the beat, if you have to take the beat.
On Friday night, Bunge had to watch. Before the match, he told The Heat Index that he hoped to play on Tuesday night in the sectional final "after we win tonight."
Didn't happen. That's why I feel bad for the kid, even though I don't know him.
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