Imagine a basketball team riding high on a wave of victories, dominating rivals and dreaming of championship glory—only to watch it all evaporate, leaving a single player to rebuild from the ashes. That's the gripping reality Dillon Hunter faced with the Clemson Tigers, and it's a story that pulls at the heartstrings of any sports fan. But here's where it gets controversial: In an era where players can jump ship at will, is unwavering loyalty a noble stand or just a missed opportunity? Stick around, because this tale of resilience and reinvention might just challenge what you think about commitment in college sports.
Eight months back, the Clemson Tigers were unstoppable, racking up impressive wins against powerhouse teams like Duke, Kentucky, and North Carolina. Seven months ago, that momentum carried them to an astounding 18 victories in the ACC conference, securing their spot in the NCAA Tournament for the second year in a row. The team openly shared their high hopes with the media, envisioning a run all the way to the Final Four—the pinnacle of college basketball where only the elite compete for the national title.
Fast-forward just one month, and the landscape had transformed dramatically. Dillon Hunter found himself as the sole remaining player in Clemson's locker room, a stark contrast to the bustling squad that had just tasted defeat. This seismic shift began right at home for Hunter. His brother, Chase—a former guard for the Tigers—had exhausted his collegiate eligibility following the team's first-round NCAA Tournament loss to McNeese State. Alongside him, seasoned players like guard Jaeden Zackery, forward Ian Schieffelin, and graduate transfer big man Viktor Lakhin also hit the end of their eligibility as the final buzzer echoed in Providence, Rhode Island, marking a disappointing end to their journeys.
On top of that, six additional teammates opted to enter the transfer portal—a system in college sports that allows players to seek new opportunities at other schools after a season, often for better coaching, facilities, or personal reasons. For beginners in the world of college athletics, think of it as a marketplace where athletes can shop around for the best fit, but it can leave teams scrambling to rebuild. This wave of departures left Hunter completely alone at Clemson for the first time, a situation that felt surreal and isolating.
Reflecting on that turbulent period from March to May, Hunter shared with reporters at the 2025 ACC Kickoff event in Charlotte's Hilton Uptown on Wednesday that it was 'definitely crazy.' He was sidelined with a broken hand, unable to hit the gym or train, so he spent his days at home, relaxing and watching as his teammates embarked on visits to other programs. 'Everybody has their own thing they want to do,' he noted, acknowledging the personal choices driving the changes. And this is the part most people miss: In a sport where loyalty is often romanticized, the transfer portal has sparked heated debates about whether players owe their allegiance to a program or should prioritize their own growth and happiness.
Amid this upheaval, Hunter drew strength from his older brother Chase, who had steadfastly remained committed to Clemson throughout his career, never entertaining the idea of transferring. 'Coming in, especially my freshman year, Chase was there, my brother, and so it already felt like a family,' the younger Hunter explained. Chase's advice resonated deeply: 'You got to grind it out,' he urged, emphasizing that life—and sports—requires perseverance. 'You can’t just go everywhere just because you don’t like it; you got to grind it out sometimes.' For those new to this, 'grinding it out' means pushing through tough times, building character, and staying the course even when it's hard. Hunter internalized this, believing that hard work leads to rewards, as Chase assured him, 'Man, it’s going to be okay if you just keep working. Everything works out for itself.'
As Hunter nursed his hand injury from the ACC Tournament quarterfinals against SMU and processed the emotional rollercoaster of the team's elimination, his brother's graduation, and the daunting task of starting anew for his senior year, he shifted his energy toward the future. It was time for him to step into a new role: becoming a recruiter for Clemson. Even though his brother was no longer on the court daily, Hunter aimed to showcase the university as a 'family home' to potential recruits, highlighting the supportive, close-knit environment that had drawn him in.
'I had to do a lot of reflection at that time,' Hunter recounted, pondering, 'What’s best for me and for the team?' This led him to actively participate in recruiting efforts. In early May, the new team assembled to bond, fostering camaraderie through shared experiences. These included lighthearted outings like a team visit to a haunted house in Greenville, South Carolina—which Hunter described as 'corny but fun'—as well as more meaningful gatherings at Bible studies and church services. These activities helped bridge the gaps between players from diverse backgrounds, ranging from 18-year-old freshmen to 24-year-old transfers, building a sense of unity in what was essentially a brand-new group.
While Hunter no longer shares the court with familiar faces like the Schieffelins, P.J. Halls, or his own brother Chase, he's embracing the chance to forge something entirely fresh. This could be the season dubbed 'Dillon’s year,' where he leads this revamped squad toward a third straight NCAA Tournament bid—a remarkable feat that would cement Clemson's status as a consistent contender. Clemson fans can catch a glimpse of this evolving team on Friday, October 17, when they face off against the Presbyterian Blue Hose in an exhibition game at Littlejohn Coliseum.
But let's pause and consider the bigger picture: Is staying loyal to one program, like Hunter and his brother did, always the wisest choice in today's fast-paced athletic world? Or does the transfer portal empower players to chase their dreams without guilt? Some argue it fosters competition and better opportunities, while others see it as eroding team spirit and tradition. What do you think—does grinding it out build champions, or should athletes prioritize their personal paths? Share your opinions in the comments below; I'd love to hear if you agree, disagree, or have your own stories from the world of sports!
