The IMac Feeling: Loving Isaac McKneely, Hating Every Shot He Took Tuesday Night

I loved Isaac McKneely as a Wahoo. Still do. And yet, for 40 minutes, I hated everything about watching him play against Virginia.

Every catch made me tense. Every rise into his jumper felt like a gut punch waiting to happen. And every miss? I’ll be honest — it felt like we got away with something. Because we did.

There were several shots Tuesday night that Isaac normally makes in his sleep. Clean looks. In rhythm. The kind that broke opposing fan bases for three years in Charlottesville. When those shots rimmed out, I didn’t celebrate good defense as much as I exhaled and muttered, “We got lucky there.” Because if anyone knows what those shots usually look like when they fall, it’s us.

That’s the strange part about watching former players you genuinely respect. You don’t doubt them — you fear them.

McKneely spent three seasons carrying far more than he ever should have had to. Defensive attention. Offensive responsibility. Late-clock bailouts. He was the shooter, the spacer, and often the emotional release valve for teams that desperately needed his scoring gravity. He did it without complaint, with professionalism, and with a maturity that always stood out.

So watching him now, in a different uniform, still being asked to shoulder so much? It felt familiar. Too familiar.

And it also made one thought impossible to ignore: how good would Isaac McKneely look in Ryan Odom’s system?

Not as the guy. But as a guy. A weapon instead of a lifeline.

Picture iMac running free off movement, surrounded by multiple ball handlers, multiple shooters, and an offense designed to stress defenses horizontally and vertically. Picture him not having to create late-clock miracles, but instead punishing defenses for choosing wrong. Picture him getting his looks without carrying the weight of an entire offense on his shoulders.

That version of Isaac McKneely would be terrifying.

And that’s not a knock on what he did at Virginia — it’s a compliment. He survived. He thrived. He grew. But he paid a price in responsibility. Watching Tuesday night, you could still see the poise, the confidence, the intelligence. You could also see how thin the margin is when defenses load up on you possession after possession.

Still, none of that erased what mattered most Tuesday night.

Virginia won.

And I’m very, very glad they did.

Because while it’s okay — even healthy — to admit that watching Isaac McKneely against us stirred up emotions, it’s also okay to say this plainly: I was thrilled every time the ball didn’t go in. I was thrilled when the final horn sounded. I was thrilled that this time, his presence didn’t flip the result.

Isaac McKneely is still a great young man. Still someone who represented Virginia with class. Still a Wahoo in the ways that actually matter.

But on Tuesday night?

He was the enemy.

And as much as I respect him, as much as I’ll always appreciate what he gave to this program, I’m perfectly comfortable saying this one thing with a smile:

I’m really glad we beat him.