There’s a story about Florida star Keyontae Johnson I want to tell, one I kept thinking about over the course of the last 2 weeks, while Johnson was hospitalized after collapsing on the court early in the Gators’ Dec. 12 basketball game at Florida State.

It’s not a story about anything superhuman, though Johnson, the preseason SEC Player of the Year, is certainly capable of doing superhuman things on the basketball court. This story isn’t even about Johnson playing basketball, though I could write plenty of stories about watching him do that.

I could write about Johnson’s evolution from freshman struggling to buy in to the increased demands and work ethic required in college basketball to a player who outworked everyone on the floor and dropped a double-double months later to help the Gators upend a team full of pros from Nevada in the NCAA Tournament.

I could write about watching Johnson’s development defensively, from a guy who relied on God-given length and athletic ability to disrupt offense to a guy who can guard five spots on the floor because he pays enough attention to scouting report detail and fundamentals like footwork and staying in guarding position that his lack of elite height for post defense doesn’t matter.

I could write about how, with a nudge from a fellow coach and my podcast co-host Eric Fawcett, I started showing video of Johnson attacking closeouts to young players, because Johnson has it down to an art.

https://twitter.com/Efawcett7/status/1322240510912733189?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw%7Ctwcamp%5Etweetembed%7Ctwterm%5E1322240510912733189%7Ctwgr%5E%7Ctwcon%5Es1_&ref_url=https%3A%2F%2Fsaturdaydownsouth.go-vip.net%2Fflorida-football%2Fflorida-basketball-previewing-the-gators-in-2020-21%2F

I could write about soaring dunks, like the one that ignited the Gators past SEC Champion LSU at the SEC Tournament in 2019.

Or I could write about the 25 and 11 he posted in a Florida rout of LSU a season later to plenty of splendid basketball in between.

But I don’t need to write about basketball to write about the magnificent Keyontae Johnson.

I don’t need to write about a grand gesture either, though there are plenty of great stories to tell about grand gestures from athletes in 2020.

Instead, I wanted to write about a simple act of kindness.

It happened a season ago, at the Charleston Classic.

As a coach and avid basketball person since well before college and on into my collegiate days at Florida, I’ve traveled to see Florida play basketball wherever and whenever life has allowed, often working in business trips around the sites of Florida road games or holiday tournaments. Last autumn, I managed to make the trip to Charleston to combine work with college basketball and the Charleston Classic.

I was leaving an afternoon session, which saw the Gators rout in-state rival Miami, when I noticed the Florida bus just outside of TD Arena, the College of Charleston home gym that hosts what I think is one of the best holiday tournaments annually. A crowd of fans and local kids, some dressed in their high school or AAU basketball gear, had gathered to the side of the Florida bus. It was unseasonably cold, even for Charleston in late November, and most everyone was in a coat, had a beanie or a big sweater.

As the Gators trudged out of the arena, most said hello to friends and family, put on their headphones, and quietly got on the bus. A couple stopped to chat with a fan or friend. Andrew Nembhard, the dynamic point guard who was a part of Keyontae’s freshman recruiting class at Florida, signed an autograph and gave fans a wave. Eventually, though, everyone got on the bus.

Except Keyontae. There he was, headphones off, sweatshirt wrapped around his neck, smile as big as Santa Claus, pounding every outstretched fist, shaking every hand, signing every autograph. After a few minutes, a Florida assistant hopped on the bus and said something to Keyontae, urging him to help get the team back to the hotel. There was food to eat, rest to be had, and a big game against either Xavier or UConn to be played in 2 days. Johnson nodded, but before he got on the bus, he stopped to sign two final autographs. The first was for a teenager in an AAU team jacket. They exchanged a nice word and big smiles and you could hear Keyontae tell the young man “keep working.” The final one was for a father and son in Florida gear, late to realize their heroes were so close by on the bus. My Christmas wish is to share the smile on that kid’s face after Johnson signed his hat with all of you. By the time the kid turned around and I could see his smile, Johnson was on the Florida bus, which left moments later.

Johnson’s act of kindness was so simple and effortless I’m not even sure the story would have been jarred from the deep recesses of my memory had Johnson not collapsed on the floor in terrifying fashion two Saturdays ago.

But as Johnson battled for his life, the memory flooded back. I’m glad it did.

Simple kindnesses have mattered more than ever in 2020, an acutely difficult year for so many people.

To be sure, we’ve seen acts of heroic strength during the coronavirus pandemic, a time that has revealed the very best of us, from first responders to nurses to our phenomenal physicians and healers. But society has also shown itself to be in need of simple decency and kindness more than ever this year, and not just at Christmas, when we tend to search for light and love at a time of year that mostly offers encroaching darkness.

In a way, Johnson’s act in Charleston — a very gentle, selfless choice to put others before himself, if only for a moment — is the perfect sports story in a year when the sacrifices and humanity of athletes, and especially student-athletes, have come to the forefront of our conversations. Sports have long functioned to heal and bridge societal divisions and unite us, even at times of terrifying societal fracture and fissure. The way we each forge connections with the human stories and drama of sports is part of the reason, I think, and we’re reminded of that when we see the best of humanity in our athletes, even when it’s just little graces.

It was that person I saw in Charleston, much more than the dominant athlete who is one of college basketball’s brightest stars, that humanity got back when Johnson woke up from his medically-induced coma and continued his path to healing by being released from the hospital this week. Before his collapse, Johnson was a potential NBA lottery pick and the leader of a team that looked poised to challenge for a conference championship. Now, as doctors continue to try to figure out what went wrong and how he can grow and heal, his basketball future, at least as a player, will rightly wait. We’re so grateful that his human story will go on, burning brighter than ever.

In a year of such overwhelming loss, our burdens have been far from light, even at Christmas, the season of perpetual hope. Johnson’s healing, and the chance he’ll get better and build a life, as a man and maybe as a father, if he wants, is as special a Christmas gift as anyone could ask for as a fan of college sports, a bright candle in a year of profound darkness.