Kansas State’s Coleman Hawkins Sobs During Heartbreaking Availability After Tournament Collapse
OMAHA, Neb. — The fluorescent lights above the postgame media room buzzed faintly, but the only sound anyone noticed was the muffled sobs of Kansas State forward Coleman Hawkins. Draped in a white towel, his 6-foot-10 frame hunched forward at the podium, he struggled to find the words—if there were any—that could explain what had just happened.
Just minutes earlier, Hawkins and the Wildcats had suffered a gut-wrenching 74-73 loss to unranked Belmont in the second round of the NCAA Tournament—a game they were favored to win by 11 points. With the Wildcats up by two and only 8.6 seconds remaining, Hawkins had inbounded the ball, but a miscommunication with point guard Myles Richardson led to a costly turnover. Belmont’s guard Trey Monroe took it coast-to-coast and sank a contested three at the buzzer.
Kansas State’s bench collapsed in stunned silence. Hawkins stood motionless on the hardwood, staring at the scoreboard. When the buzzer sounded, it wasn’t just the end of the game—it was the end of a season filled with promise, and perhaps, the end of his college career.
Now, sitting under the unforgiving eye of cameras and recorders, Hawkins’ voice cracked as he tried to speak.
“I let everybody down,” he said, pausing as tears welled in his eyes. “That’s on me. All of it.”
To his right, Head Coach Jerome Tang put a steadying hand on his shoulder, but Hawkins shook his head, burying his face in the towel again. The room held its breath.
All season long, Hawkins had been the emotional core of the Wildcats. A transfer from Illinois, he brought experience, poise, and a relentless work ethic. He averaged 14.1 points, 8.3 rebounds, and 2.4 assists per game—statistics that only told part of the story. He had taken younger teammates under his wing, organizing midnight shooting sessions, film breakdowns in hotel rooms, and even pregame meditations. Kansas State fans embraced him not only for what he did, but for how he did it.
But in this moment, none of that seemed to matter to Hawkins. Not the 22 points he poured in that night. Not the four blocks that kept Kansas State in the game. Only the final seconds replayed in his mind—over and over again.
“I should’ve held onto it. Called timeout. Done something,” he whispered, more to himself than to the press.
Later, in the locker room, Hawkins remained seated long after reporters cleared out. Teammates gave him space, some resting a hand on his back in quiet solidarity.
Coach Tang, his own eyes misty, later summed it up best: “Coleman gave us everything. One play doesn’t define a player like him. But try telling that to a warrior whose heart just got broken.”
No one knows yet if Hawkins will declare for the NBA Draft or return for one final run. But for now, what remains is the image of a towering young man, reduced to tears—not from weakness, but from caring too much.
