Blink.

It’s winter 1994 and Lisa Bluder is coaching in her fifth season at Drake.

Her Bulldogs have never finished higher than fourth in the Missouri Valley Conference, but this season’s team is special.

Deha Peyton of Linn-Mar, Bluder’s hometown, Kristi Kinne of Jefferson, Julie Rittgers of West Des Moines, and Lisa Brinkmeyer of Hubbard lead a powerhouse team into the second round of the NCAA Tournament.

Sports writers, especially the East Coast snobs, finally discovered women’s basketball. Labor disputes canceled the World Series and shut down the NHL for over three months.

They started paying attention to UConn, which was putting together a 35-0 season.

The same thing is happening on a smaller scale in Des Moines, with those Iowa women in the Bulldog lineup.

Seats started to fill up in the Knapp Center.

Drake sweatshirts started popping up around the capital in numbers not matched since the men’s team went to the Final Four in 1969.

Lisa Bluder is changing women’s basketball at Drake and in Des Moines.

Blink.

It’s spring 1995. I’m sitting in the press room at Southwest Missouri State University in Springfield.

It’s halftime of the MVC Tournament Championship game.

Drake trails the hosts at halftime. The visitor’s locker room is next door to the press room and we can hear Lisa’s halftime speech through the wall.

“We have not shown them what we are capable of,” she shouted.

She’s right.

The Bulldogs win. Freshman Kiersten Miller seals the win with a pair of late free throws. The Bulldogs go dancing in March.

Blink.

It’s late fall 1996 and Drake is hosting Iowa. The Hawkeyes are the team of my father and my brothers, but I am a true-blue Bulldog. I want the fighting Bluders to paste the Hawkeyes.

They win. A Register photographer captures Kiersten Miller, Keisha Cox, Tammi Blackstone, and Lisa Brinkmeyer clowning on the bench in the final minutes with smiles bright enough to make a supernova look like a candle.

I buy a copy and have the players sign it for me. It’s a breach of journalistic ethics, but I can live with the shame. The picture still sits on my mantle to this day.

Blink.

It’s February 1996. President Bill Clinton has just finished speaking at the Knapp Center. I’m standing in line to shake his hand. I didn’t vote for him, but how often do you get to shake a president’s hand?

Standing next to me are Lisa Bluder and Jan Jensen.

Bluder shakes the president’s hand, Jensen takes a photo, and I stand awkwardly off to the side. Here, Bluder was years ahead of her time, getting a selfie before it was cool.

That summer, I get a letter in the mail. It’s from Coach Bluder.

She sent me a print of the photo, which shows her, me, and Clinton together.

“Dan,” the note reads, “It’s US with the PREZ!”

The note and picture are just two of the scores of little touches that make Lisa so easy to love.

Blink.

It’s spring 1997 and graduation nears. At a banquet for the journalism school during the Drake Relays, the j-school dean presents me with a blue and white basketball signed by the women’s basketball team. It’s my most prized possession — and someday I’ll catch up with Karen Schulte, who was injured that season, and get her signature on the ball to complete the set.

I cherish these memories. Truly, those were the best days of my newspaper career.

Blink.

It’s spring 2000. The University of Iowa introduces Lisa as their head coach.

I’m happy. I’m heartbroken. I wanted Lisa to coach the Bulldogs forever.

But Drake is a small school in a soft women’s basketball conference. Lisa’s team had put together a 23-7 record in her last season at Drake and got a crummy eighth seed.

My buddy Jane Burns tells me that was the end of Lisa Bluder at Drake.

Iowa came calling and she answered.

A group of ticked-off players line the back of the room with scowls on their faces and arms crossed their chests.

They were loyal to the previous coach. Lisa had to win them over.

She did.

The Hawkeyes went 21-10 and advanced to the second round of the NCAA Tournament.

Blink.

It’s fall 2023. I’m having dinner with my friend Mimi at the Tasty Tacos in Urbandale.

David Bluder, Lisa’s husband, walks up to say hello. They are bringing their middle child up to West Des Moines for her first teaching job.

Lisa comes over and hugs me. She hasn’t changed. She’s still got that small-town girl charm, a kind “aw, shucks” mentality when somebody compliments her and she truly values every person she meets.

We take a selfie, this time Bill Clinton didn’t get in the way.

Blink.

It’s May 2024.

Lisa Bluder announces her retirement after 24 years as Iowa women’s basketball coach and 40 years as a coach.

I’m happy. I’m heartbroken.

Lisa helped take women’s basketball and the state of Iowa to places no one ever thought they could go.

My friend was centerstage in the greatest show in hoops. I wanted her run to last forever.

But it makes sense to take a bow.

How can you top the Caitlin Clark era?

You can’t. That’s a once-in-a-generation player.

But if anybody could do it, I believe it would be her successor, Jan Jensen.

Lisa notes in her farewell letter to fans that her family sacrificed so that she could chase her dream.

Now she wants to spend more time with them.

Forty years now, where’d they go?

They pass by in a blink.

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