I knew when I took this gig there would be two articles that would be brutal to write. The first was the we-lost-the-NCAA-tournament piece. That one hurt, bad. But this one I knew from the preseason would be an absolute doozy as well.

It’s the end-of-season wrap-up and career retrospective for Ben Gregg. Mr. Zag. The beating heart of this year’s squad. Its veteran leader, example, and anchor. Benny-G. The Ultimate Zag. To think we’ll never get to see Ben Gregg suit up again for the Zags is gut wrenching, but his impact and legacy will live on for years to come.

He didn’t play for attention or accolades—he played to win, and he did whatever it took to help his team do that. He dove for loose balls, hit big shots in clutch moments, took charges, threw his body into screens, and battled through pain and injury without hesitation or complaint. He gave his body to the game and his heart to the team. Ben brought toughness and belief when it mattered most, making the dirty, unglamorous plays that remind you what Gonzaga basketball stands for: hustle, grit, and the kind of joy that makes college basketball worth watching.

As fans, we know how lucky we are. Because Ben Gregg loved Gonzaga. You could see it in the way he played, in how he celebrated his teammates, in how he carried himself. He’s the Zag you’d most want to talk Gonzaga basketball with—not because he was on the inside, but because he cared about the program the way we care.

This one’s hard because Ben Gregg gave Gonzaga basketball and the Gonzaga community everything he had, and a simple “thank you” doesn’t quite capture the size of that gift.

As a high school senior, Ben Gregg reclassified and joined Gonzaga midway through the 2020–21 season, forgoing his senior prom and the familiar rites of high school to play for the team he had idolized growing up in Oregon. While most kids were worrying about college applications, Gregg stepped into The Kennel with wide eyes and no guarantees—just the thrill of living out a dream.

From day one, there was something deeply Zag about him. His freshman season was quiet on paper—3.1 minutes per game across 18 appearances—but anyone paying attention could see the outline of what was coming. Gregg treated every possession like it mattered, like someone who was exactly where he wanted to be.

Season by season, he grew—not just statistically, but in maturity and presence. He added strength. He extended his range. He became more vocal. For 5 seasons he carved out space in one of the most dominant front courts in college basketball by doing the things that don’t show up in highlight reels: hedging, rebounding, boxing out, taking hits, making the right pass, and taking the gutsy shots.

This wasn’t a smooth season for Gonzaga. There were flashes of brilliance and stretches of frustration. Lineups shifted. Roles changed. But through it all, Ben Gregg held firm. In a season where not much was constant, Gregg’s effort could be counted on night after night and possession after possession. Ben never took a play off. Ever.

Even more impressively–and perhaps tragically–he did it while clearly battling through back pain during the latter half of this season. Seeing him in a brace on the bench was hard. Watching him dive for loose balls was harder—not out of fear, but because everyone knew how much Gonzaga needed him. His movement was limited at times. His steps looked heavier. Some of the dunks became layups, but his effort never dipped.

By his senior year, Gregg wasn’t just a contributor. He was the foundation. He stabilized the lineup with shooting, rebounding, and communication. He set the tone when others were out of rhythm.

This season’s stats:

This won’t be the most stats-heavy article I’ve ever written, and that’s by design. Because the impact Ben Gregg had on Gonzaga basketball simply can’t be captured in a box score. Numbers don’t show his guts and hustle, the energy he sparked, the belief he instilled. They don’t reflect how a player makes teammates better or how his energy infects the play of those around him.

Gregg’s 24-point performance against Portland wasn’t just a career high—it was a full-circle moment. Just a short drive from his hometown, surrounded by friends, family, and former coaches, he turned in the most dominant performance of his career. It wasn’t flashy, and it wasn’t forced. It was methodical, confident, and composed.

He knocked down shots from the perimeter. He battled inside. He grabbed rebounds, rotated on defense, and led by example. He played with poise and purpose, as if the moment belonged to him—because it did. It was vintage Ben Gregg: playing his best when it mattered most, with the people who mattered most watching. Some guys shy away from those moments. Ben embraced it. He always played for others, and that night, he gave everything he had to the ones who helped get him there.

That impact crystallized in Gonzaga’s NCAA Tournament game against Houston. The Zags came out flat, got punched in the mouth early, and chucked up brick after brick as Houston slowly built out their lead. The game teetered. But Ben Gregg entered, grabbed rebounds, scored a couple tough buckets through contact, and reset the team’s pulse. He pulled Gonzaga back into the fight all on his own.

It wasn’t flashy. It wasn’t loud. It was exactly what was needed—exactly what he’d done his entire career.

Off the court, he’s been just as active and impactful. He organized back-to-school shopping events for foster kids, personally walking them through aisles and making sure they had what they needed to start the year with confidence. He partnered with Walker’s Furniture and their “Walker’s Cares” initiative as a Champion of Change, supporting local charities in the Spokane area. And he teamed up with Family Promise of Spokane, helping families experiencing homelessness get the support and resources they need.

He built acts of public service into his NIL deals and personally went to install air conditioning units for a family in need. The dude is one of a kind.

Ben Gregg had a heart for uplifting the community that embraced him from day one. The billboards, the commercials, the NIL money have all come and gone, but the impact he had on Spokane will stand as the most enduring aspect of his Gonzaga legacy.

At Evergreen Fountains Senior Living Community in Spokane, a group of superfans known as Grandmas for Gregg rallied behind him every season. What began with a few residents cheering on a promising freshman quickly turned into a full-blown tradition. They wore his number. They made signs. They cheered for Ben because he represented the best of Gonzaga basketball: the scrappiness and hustle, the passion and skill, the heart and resilience.

As his career came to a close, the Grandmas stayed faithful, already talking about the next chapter, but still proud to have chosen him as their guy.

They knew what we all knew: Ben Gregg represented the best of what college basketball could be. And they made sure he never stepped on the court without knowing someone was in his corner, cheering him on like he was their own.

He didn’t do it for recognition. He did it because that’s who he is. The same guy who boxed out in pain is the same guy who shows up with a smile to give back to kids in need. He’s the kind of player—and person—you remember. The kind who makes the team, the school, and the city better just by being a part of it.

Ben Gregg didn’t ask for attention. He didn’t beg for minutes. He didn’t tweet cryptic messages or look for shortcuts. He stayed. He bridged eras. He set the tone. He showed future Zags what commitment looks like. And he did so with a rare blend of dedication and skill.

So maybe an understated farewell is exactly right. Thank you, Ben Gregg.

It’s been an honor to root for you.

You’ll forever be Mr. Zag.