He was known as the Mayor. He didn’t have a city council. He didn’t have a gavel. He didn’t even have an office. But he did have a following.

The girls thought he was cute. They still talk about him.

The guys were more professional. They touted his shot, his ball-handling skills and his uncanny ability to light up the Hilton Coliseum crowd. Some of the girls thought that, too, we suppose.

But he moved on, on to the pros. Now the powers that be want to forever immortalize the Mayor, Freddy — Fred Hoiberg, that is.

That’s a good thing.

Here’s why: As we were discussing how to approach the university’s decision to retire Fred Hoiberg’s No. 32 at halftime of Sunday’s game with No. 1 Kansas, our own Tara Deering asked a simple question: “Fred who?”

“The mayor,” we replied in unison. Then she knew. But it was too late.

Iowa State is already starting to forget the man who put the magic in Hilton Magic, the man who made more three-pointers than humanly possible as a Cyclone, the man who blazed a trail to the NCAA Tournament and the man who did it with class.

That was nice to see.

Never mind that Hoiberg finished his collegiate career with 1,993 points, enough to earn him third place on ISU’s all-time list. And never mind that Hoiberg was the first Cyclone to rank among the top 10 in 10 career statistical categories.

What matters is that Hoiberg was a good combination of elegance and talent, of charm and sincerity. Was he the most talented player ever to shoot hoops in Hilton? Maybe. Probably not.

But that hardly matters. What matters is that Fred Hoiberg was everything a college basketball player should be. He had no run-ins with the law. He followed team rules to perfection. He played nice and was a good student.

Fred Hoibergs are indeed rare in the basketball ranks. But then again, it’s rare to have your jersey retired.

Maybe there’s a connection. here.