At some point tonight, Bob Schlosser will approach a lectern in the banquet room of a San Antonio hotel and try to condense 27 years of coaching into five minutes.

Five minutes – that’s all he gets.

No timeouts, but plenty of replays and reviews — some out loud, certainly, and many others in his mind.

A five-minute speech to summarize so many nights in so many gyms. To express appreciation for all the guys who played basketball for him at Elizabethtown College, all the coaches who coached under him, even all the guys he coached against.

The 63-year-old Schlosser, who retired in June 2017, will receive the National Association of Basketball Coaches’ Outstanding Service Award at the NABC Division III coaches meeting, which each year is part of the NABC convention at the big-boy Final Four. Retired Johns Hopkins coach Bill Nelson and current Washington (Mo.) University coach Mark Edwards will be accorded the same honor.

“It’s really obviously humbling,” Schlosser said.

Also difficult to wrap one’s mind around. He was nonetheless trying to do so the other day. He talked about the guys on the other benches, so many of whom have voted to honor him – how the competition might have caused friction in the moment, but ultimately brought the best out in him. And he talked about how nice it has been that each of the three sons he has with his wife Sue – Ben, Sam and Will – either were or are in coaching. (Ben was once an assistant under his dad at E-town, while Sam and Will are on the staffs at Penn State-Harrisburg and Western New England, respectively.)

“That they thought it was noble enough to be involved in the same profession,” the elder Schlosser said, “is pretty special.”

This is a matter of legacy, of considering what you might someday leave behind. Besides his sons, some former players have chosen to get into coaching as well. Guys like Rocky Parise, who just finished his second year as the boss at E-town High.

He and Schlosser are kindred spirits, two feisty, combative former point guards who would probably have tried to draw a charge from their moms. Parise recalled Schlosser humbling him, if only a little, when he arrived on campus nearly two decades ago – that he was (and is) adept at telling someone what he needs to hear, as opposed to what he wants to hear.

By Parise’s final season (2001-02) they were walking in lockstep, and perhaps not coincidentally the Blue Jays enjoyed their finest season under Schlosser. Nine guys averaged 10 or more minutes. Four guys averaged 14 or more points. Parise averaged nearly seven assists a night. And the team won 29 games.

They breezed to the national final, and were up 11 on Otterbein with 15 minutes left, only to lose by 19. Parise thinks about fouls that went uncalled against Jeff Gibbs, Otterbein’s burly forward (and a guy who is still playing, in Japan). Schlosser thinks about extra-long media timeouts that sapped the Jays’ momentum, and wonders if he shouldn’t have gone zone in the second half as a changeup.

But really, the games aren’t foremost in his mind anymore.

“I miss practice,” he said. “I knew I would. I don’t miss the games and I certainly don’t miss recruiting. I miss practice. You don’t have to worry about anybody’s playing time or anything like that. You’re teaching and coaching and working hard. That’s the part I miss most.”

He made it to a handful of E-town games this season, watching another former player, Britt Moore, work the sideline. But Schlosser also traveled around, taking in the action at places like LaSalle, Bucknell and F&M, as well as Sam’s games at PSU-Harrisburg.

“You get to go to the games and just enjoy the game,” Bob said, “and you’re not there because you’re recruiting or scouting or trying to learn something.”

That’s over now. It’s all over but the rehashing, in fact.

He gets five minutes to do that tonight – five minutes to tell his now-former peers what it all meant.