A small man with big glasses walked into a Renton gymnasium two years ago, shoulder to shoulder with his wife. To most of the youth basketball players joking around, he seemed like an elderly gentleman in the wrong place until one boy tapped another on the shoulder and whispered that greatness had entered the building.
“That’s Don James,” the boy said.
“How do you know?” his friend asked.
“I just do,” the boy replied. “He’s the Dawgfather.”
These children never…