One man, one letter, one hell of a human being
Everyone has a story. If you are a fan of Cleveland Sports, be it in passion or in passing, odds are that you have a story with Zydrunas Ilgauskas serving as the central character. If you frequented Cleveland’s warehouse district during the early aughts, chances are you saw a late-20s Ilgauskas alone at a nightclub, leaning against a varnished wooden bar that barely hit him at the waste. More often than not, he would be wearing a cap of some sort; Kangols were huge back in the day. On the rare occasion, he would be puffing on a cigar the size of a human arm, losing himself in the fog. Many have had the fortune of crossing paths with Zydrunas or his family over the last several years as they lived out the second phase of the big man’s career. There are some individuals who shared the same day care or schooling system with the Ilgauskas family. There are others who have shared a flight with Big Z as he and his never-ending legs were crammed in a standard seat on a Southwest Airlines-branded Boeing 737.