THE FLAME INSIDE: ST. JOHN’S WALKS BACK INTO THE HEAT TONIGHT

By Jason Safford | Relentless Redstorm

The night in Vegas presses down on the city like a giant hand. The air feels thick. The streets glow in red, gold, and neon blue. The noise rolls like a wave along the Strip. You can feel the buzz in your chest as you walk. You can feel the tension in your bones. You can feel the game coming.

Inside the arena, the lights burn bright. The crowd hums. The building holds its breath.

St. John’s steps into this glow with heavy hearts and hot blood. Yesterday cut deep. Yesterday stung. Yesterday left fans shaking their heads at the final seconds. The pain sits fresh. It sits sharp. It sits like a reminder they cannot ignore.

But nights like this build seasons. Nights like this reveal truth. Nights like this show a team what March will demand. It is only November, but November feels like the mirror. November reflects what will matter in March. November tests the soul before the stakes explode.

St. John’s walks toward that test now.

THE HUMAN HEARTBEAT

The Iowa State loss hangs over this night like a storm cloud. Fans replay it again and again. They see the drive. See the ball roll out. Watch the rebound tip at the horn that fell too late. Feel the shock in their stomach. Notice the bruise in their chest.

More than a loss, that moment showed everything this team could be and everything they still must fix.

Oziyah Sellers felt it in his bones. His game burned bright. He attacked all night. Scored with force. Carried the offense. But then came that final drive. He rose. Extended. Kissed the ball off the glass. And it spun away.

He walked off the floor angry. Angry at the rim. At himself. The universe. Because he knew that moment could shape how people see him. He knew that play would follow him until he rewrites it.

Zuby Ejiofor felt the weight too. The final three left his hands clean. It looked true. Seemed perfect. The arena leaned in. And then the ball rimmed out.

Fans sat in silence. Some held their head in their hands. Others stared at the floor. A few clapped with shaky hands because they saw the fight. But everyone understood the pain.

St. John’s did not come to Vegas to watch heartbreak. They came to make noise. Came to win a trophy. To show the nation who they are.

Now they must show they can rise from the sting.

THE LONG SHADOW OF NOVEMBER

This is where fans feel the anxiety. Where they feel the frustration. Feel the tug of hope and fear fighting inside the chest.

It is only November. But November is not small. It is the teacher. The warning. November shows the cracks that will break you in February. The habits that will decide who you are when the bracket arrives.

Fans want to believe this team will grow. They want to believe this team will toughen. Believe Pitino will forge them into iron by March.

But the loss to Iowa State reminded them how fragile early-season dreams can be. That a great team must close games. And talent means nothing without control.

And now Baylor stands in front of them.

A team with power.
Full of rhythm.
Swagger.
One that plays like the moment belongs to them.

This is where St. John’s must answer the mirror.

THE LOCKER ROOM BEFORE THE STORM

Pitino’s voice echoes inside the walls. Short. Sharp. Direct. He lays out the truth. Strips away excuses. Makes the room feel like a furnace.

He tells them this game is not about yesterday. It is not about Baylor. Nor the rankings. Or early-season noise.

It is about identity.
Forging will.
About who you become when pain hits your door.

He tells them March will not care about November heartbreak. March will only care about whether they learned from it.

The players sit still. Some stare at the floor. Others at the ceiling. They close their eyes. But every one of them feels the fire. The truth.

Mitchell tightens his shoes. Jackson bounces in place. Sellers breathes slow to steady his heart. Hopkins wipes sweat from his brow even before the warmup. Ejiofor closes his fists and opens them again.

They know what tonight means.

THE MATCHUPS THAT CARRY THE WEIGHT

This game will not wait. Will not breathe. Go slow for either team. It will hit early. Hit often. And it will land in the matchups that shape everything.

Ejiofor vs Cameron Carr

Ejiofor must stand tall. Carr is a force of nature. He scores in bursts. Rebounds like a machine. Attacks the rim without fear. Twists momentum on one possession.

Zuby cannot foul early. He cannot give up the paint. Cannot let Carr control the glass. If he does, the whole structure bends.

Sellers vs Yessoufou

This matchup burns with energy. Sellers seeks redemption. Yessoufou seeks validation. One wants to wipe away yesterday. The other wants to build his rising star.

Their fight controls pace. Rhythm controls runs. Confidence controls flow.

Jackson vs Baylor’s Guards

If Jackson breaks the line, St. John’s breathes. If Baylor walls him off, St. John’s gasps. His drives matter. Poise matters. Shots matter. His decisions shape everything.

Dillon Mitchell vs Everyone in Green and Gold

Mitchell brings length. Delivers bounce. Offers Big 12 scars. Knows how Baylor hits you. Shares how they push. He must guard all corners. Rebound with fury. Lift the team on the break.

His energy is the battery.

THE FANS WHO FEEL EVERY BREATH

Fans do not forget. They remember heartbreaks. The close calls. Seasons that slipped away. Losing games they should have won.

They want this team to break that cycle. Need this team to find the cruelty inside that closes games with steel. Demand this team to leave no doubt.

But they also fear. They fear another loss by a point. Another late-game stall. That November might reveal a weakness instead of a strength.

Yet they stand behind the Red Storm with hope that shakes the ribs. They want to see a leap. See toughness. Witness command.

Watch a team that does not run from pressure but runs toward it.

THE UNFINISHED BUSINESS IN THE AIR

Last season Baylor broke St. John’s in double overtime. The game still echoes. It sits in memory like an unfinished sentence.

Tonight becomes the next chapter. The test of whether that memory drives them or haunts them.

Pitino knows revenge does not win games. But hunger does. Focus does. Sharp detail does.

And his team needs all of it.

THE FOUL TROUBLE KNIFE EDGE

Early fouls can crush a plan. They can break rotations. Slice confidence.

Ejiofor must stay clean. Hopkins must play smart. Sellers must avoid slaps. Jackson must avoid charges.

Baylor hunts contact. Draws whistles. Thrives on early foul swings.

St. John’s must stay disciplined. Guard without reaching. Fight without losing control.

One whistle can swing ten minutes.

PITINO’S MIND IN THIS MOMENT

Pitino lives for games like this. The bright lights. Tension. Weight. Stakes that feel bigger than the date on the calendar.

He knows his team is close. They stand one breakthrough away. Feels the pain of Iowa State can turn into the fuel that burns through March.

But only if they choose it.

Pitino will push every button tonight. He will demand detail. Bark toughness. Require effort that borders on obsession.

He will accept nothing less.

THE MARCH MIRROR

March arrives as a storm. It arrives fast. With sharp teeth. And no mercy.

If St. John’s wants to thrive in March, they must shape their identity now. Learn how to close. Master control of pace. They must fight through bad breaks.

The mirror does not lie.
Does not wait.
Won't soften.

Tonight the mirror hangs over the floor. Reflects every weakness and every strength.

Now St. John’s must decide what they see.

THE CROWD BEFORE TIP

The arena swells with noise. Band plays. Cheer rises. Air vibrates.

St. John’s comes out with fire in their steps. Baylor comes out with calm in their faces.

Two storms ready to collide.

The building knows.
Fans see.
Players feel.

This is not just a November game.

A message will be delivered.

THE FINAL CALL BEFORE BATTLE

When the ball rises, the past becomes fuel. Loss becomes hunger. Doubt becomes edge.

St. John’s must rise.
Fight.
Reveal their heart.

Because nights like this do not ask.
They dismantle.

And the mirror waits for no one.

Tonight the Red Storm stands in front of it.

Now they decide who they will become.

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