“Act like you’ve been here before,” they’ll say. “So what if you’re raising a ‘First Round’ banner? We have a million of those. Talk to me when you’ve raised a national championship banner.”

Beyond the confines of the red-brick building that houses 50-plus years of basketball memories, many won’t understand why I saw tears in the Reilly Center on Wednesday night and I’ve accepted it. I’ve accepted a long time ago that my friends will never understand the struggle of the mid-major life.

They’ll probably never understand that 100 empty seats at the Reilly Center could actually affect my education more so than 1,000 empty seats at the Carrier Dome would a Syracuse student.

They’ll probably never understand that a nationally televised St. Bonaventure basketball game on ESPN2 or CBS Sports Network (not even ACTUAL ESPN or ACTUAL CBS. Their surrogates) could help impact enrollment for the next three years.

The 2018 NCAA Tournament banner, which was raised prior to the game. P-J photo by Tim Frank

They’ll probably never understand why we are beholden to our head coach, who has over 100 losses, but who inherited a program with not even a starting-five worth of players.

They’ll probably never understand what it feels like for a program to come so close to multi-decade dominance, just for its feet to be taken out from under them — literally — during a game that changed the course of history.

This isn’t a pity party. Every school has their own issues. Every program has battled through its own adversity.

The difference is that larger programs have the advantage of battling back a lot quicker than St. Bonaventure.

That’s proven.

The general public forgets that it took nearly a decade for Bonaventure to become competitive again after issues in 2003. And, that doesn’t even speak to how NCAA sanctions impacted the school itself.

For that reason, those who aren’t on this campus don’t understand that going to the NCAA tournament twice in six years doesn’t happen at St. Bonaventure University. Heck, going to the NCAA tournament rarely happens at all.

I’m one of the lucky ones.

I’ve witnessed this program finish with two of its three-straight 20-win seasons.

A 20-win season at UNC is nothing. They have those every year.

Here? Well, that’s the difference between barely filling Falconio Hall and forcing kids to live in quadruples in Loughlin.

I’ve also been one of just three other groups of students at St. Bonaventure to enjoy the madness of a Selection Sunday celebration and one of just a handful of student journalists in the Jandoli School’s proud history to say they covered St. Bonaventure in the NCAA tournament.

So, long story short: Us raising a banner at St. Bonaventure, no matter the accomplishment it may broadcast, is a big deal and it’s a moment that we don’t take lightly.

That’s because it doesn’t happen. It just. Doesn’t. Happen.

So, when it does … it’s special, because it’s a moment — like winning a national championship at a larger school — that you’ll never forget.

And, though I knock it now, I pray for the day that I can take for granted the thought of raising a banner in the Reilly Center.

Because at that point, I’ll know that Chris Ford will have been absolved for running into Bob Lanier’s leg, welding degree jokes will be no more and a snub from the tournament will feel as though it never happened.

One can dream.

For now, though, a third banner in six years falling from the rafters of the Reilly Center will more than suffice

Pax et bonum.

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Cameron Hurst, a 2016 Jamestown High School graduate, is a junior journalism major at St. Bonaventure University and is an occasional contributor to The Post-Journal.