Feb. 5, 2009 -- Gerdy

John Gerdy '79 on DavidsonCats.com:

The most fundamental principle of Davidson basketball … what sets it apart from just about all other Division I programs … is that you are a student who happens to play basketball. It’s about education first, basketball second. It’s what makes us unique. If you play basketball at Davidson and don't graduate, then, what’s the point?

That is why, despite the fact that he was the greatest basketball player in Davidson history, Mike Maloy’s jersey should not be in the rafters.

There are two distinct categories when considering Davidson’s greatest. The first is the greatest basketball players to play at Davidson (Maloy, Adrian, Snyder, Hetzel). And the second is Greatest Davidson Basketball Players (Snyder, Hetzel. Rucker). There is a difference.

Maloy’s accomplishments and the trials he endured in an unjust world of which Davidson was a part were unsurpassed. But if Davidson compromises this, the most fundamental principle of the Davidson basketball ideal, we will lose the very thing that makes us unique and so proud of what we have accomplished.

It’s going to be interesting … with Mike’s passing and if Steph leaves before finishing his degree … whether that dual set of pressures will lead to the policy being changed. I hope not. In short, it’s important that educational institutions make it clear, though their words, but more importantly, though their actions, that educational achievement is more important than athletic accomplishments.

That said, Mike Maloy deserves something different. Something more significant than a jersey hanging from the rafters. Something that puts his life and times at Davidson into context. His is a story that deserves telling, not simply a quick visual of a jersey in the rafters. It’s history. And he, and Davidson, played a part in it.

Comments?

Feb. 5, 2009

Me on writinggirl.blogspot.com:

You know you go to Davidson College when the star basketball player, most famous person in town, who gets over 100,000 YouTube views in 48 hours, switches biology lab sections so he won’t miss his normal one when he has an away game tomorrow.

Comments?

Feb. 3, 2009

Kruse:

The Elite Eight. Going for win No. 20 with nine regular-season games left on the schedule. Dick Vitale coming to town. The most beloved college basketball player in America -- a student at Davidson College. A decade ago, in my reporting for the old book, I had sort of a stock question for the men who played for Davidson in the glory days in the ‘60s and those who tried to keep them up or get them back.

Can it happen again?

Some people thought yes.

More people thought no.

These interviews happened in 1998 and 1999. It’s interesting, given what’s happened since, especially these last few years, to re-read their words now.

Charlie Marcon ’65, Dec. 18, 1998, Bethlehem, Pa.: “It’s a delusion. I think it’s very naïve to think Davidson could ever do it again.”

Danny Carrell ’63, Oct. 15, 1998, Richmond, Va.: “Davidson can never do it again.”

Tom Franz ’84, Oct. 15, 1998, Richmond, Va.: “Absolutely not. It’ll never happen. It would be an absolute stroke of luck for it to happen. I just don’t think Davidson is going to get the kind of kids necessary to maintain that caliber. You might get one – but not enough. And that’s okay.”

Bill Jarman ’63, November 1998, Gastonia: “I don’t think so. Because now the emphasis on basketball is a total commitment – and the academics at Davidson aren’t going to allow that.”

Bill Beermann ’64, Feb. 17, 1999, on the phone from Jacksonville, Fla.: “I don’t think they can get the kind of players the bigger schools can get – guys who think they can be NBA players. Lefty was in an era when he could find these guys and recruit these guys. He was way ahead of a lot of other coaches in recruiting. That just doesn’t happen today. I don’t think it’s possible for a school of Davidson’s size to appeal to enough of those high-quality players.”

Davis Liles ’70, Nov. 16, 1998, Charlotte: “Now I think kids look at where they can go to get the most exposure and sign a big contract in the NBA two years later. That kid’s not coming to Davidson.”

Pepper Bego ’86, Feb. 10, 1999, Charlotte: “What hurts Davidson is its conference. Kids nowadays want to get exposure. The top 50 high school kids want the short stop to the NBA. And the academics, they’re uncompromising – at Davidson, you’ve got unrelenting academic pressures.”

Terry Holland, Oct. 29, 1998, Charlottesville, Va.: “It’s driven by the conferences today. TV is the whole game. That may not be true in two years, six years, 20 years from now. But Davidson has no control over that.”

Jerry Kroll ‘70, April 15, 1999, on the phone from Houston: “The game has moved on. I certainly think it’s possible – but highly unlikely.”

Ace Tanner ’87, Jan. 19, 1999, Charlotte: “I think the scene of college basketball has changed too much. Revenue generation has become the primary motivation. Big-time programs – their coaches are getting a million dollars from Nike and half a million from merchandising. It’s very hard to compete with that for a small liberal arts school like Davidson.”

Dick Snyder ’66, Nov. 15, 1998, Paradise Valley, Ariz.: “Never say never. The thing about basketball is, it’s still conceivable because you only need a couple of guys with a good supporting cast. I think it’s still possible. But I think it’s much harder than it used to be.”

Tim Bowker ’80, Dec. 15, 1998, Delran, N.J.: “I think they could get in the rankings every once in a while. That’s possible. But to expect that every year is unfair. You’re just not playing from the same gene pool. If Davidson is worried about maintaining its academic standards – and I think it should be – it should be very satisfied with having a competitive program.”

Mike Dickens ’69, October 1998, Bethesda, Md.: “You can build a program with one great player a year. But the thing that probably makes it difficult today is the TV contract is so critical. Not being a member of a conference with a TV package is a major drawback. Kids today want to play in a conference that gets a lot of publicity. … But top 64 year in and year out can be done. And every two, three or four years, when the stars are aligned right, you could win a game or two. I don’t see why Davidson couldn’t get to the Sweet 16. The goal should be to be in the tournament every year.”

John Gerdy ’79, Dec. 18, 1998, Conestoga, Pa.: “The basketball program is right where it needs to be. Challenge for the Southern Conference championship every year, win 20 games, go to the NCAAs every few years – that’s perfect.”

Wayne Huckel ’69, Nov. 5, 1998, Charlotte: “It depends on McKillop’s ability to get one or two players who can make the program. He could do it. But I think it’s unlikely. That’s not a knock. It’s just a fact of life.”

Doug Cook ’70, Dec. 16, 1998, Montclair, N.J.: “You don’t need a lot of basketball players to have a really good program. You need one or two great players and a supporting cast.”

Todd Haynes ’81, Feb. 18, on the phone from Bloomington, Ill.: “I think it can get back into the top 25. With basketball, if you get one or two really good players to come in, I can see them getting into the top 25. Coach McKillop has come close. He’s been maybe just one franchise player away from being there.”

Tony Orsbon ’69, Nov. 12, 1998, Charlotte: “What Bob McKillop needs most is that one guy who is an All-American. This team that Davidson has right now could go fairly deep into the NCAAs if they had what they don’t have right now – that one All-American. Davidson can get him. It’s possible. But it would take some extraordinary effort.”

Larry Horowitz ’75, November 1998, Charlotte: “It only takes one player.”

Pinky Hatcher ’68, October 1998, Atlanta: “It’s a great dream. You just need one kid.”

Comments?

Feb. 2, 2009 -- Lauren

On DavidsonWildcats.com:

I didn’t write this column after the last home game. (And I’m still surprised (thanks for reading!) how many people noticed.)

Sometimes the time gets away from me, and my thoughts are no longer … timely.

Sometimes I let other people write, or take submissions from pseudo-sports information staff members. (Thanks, Tim Cowie! Will B!)

And sometimes, I just can’t find any inspiration. (I know, I know. I’m getting needy.)

And so, I posed this question to a certain POY-Candidate/Sports Info Temp after the Furman game. How do you keep the energy up when you’re up by 20, 30... 35 on somebody? Do you ever just hit the court and think, um, yeah, this one is over? Before tipoff?

No, no, NO. You never think that, comes the horrified reply.

Luckily, I am far from indicative of the pulse of the team, but after spending a good part of Saturday afternoon shouting (kind words!) at my TV, I am a little less inclined to feel such. (COME ON LOBSTAH!!!! … YEEEEES!)

But last night, well, that was inspiring.

I’m not sure what exactly made the difference. Was it the pair of road games? Was it the near-scare at Samford? Was it the weather?

Whatever it was, there was a lot of energy in Belk Arena last night.

On the court, the players were feeding off it. And, as Western entered with a decidedly physical approach to their game plan, the Wildcats responded by making it rain indoors.

The WL, the youngest McKillop, WILL. Lots of threes. Lots of hands making claws. (!)

And that guy. Assuming this was in your scouting report, but if there’s someone you’d probably not wanna (elbow, er) anger, he’s, um, the one with the 30 on his back, because he will drop in 12 points in, say, 1:27? (I did math.)

It’s loud in here, no matter what the score. There’s chest-bumping. Table slapping. And there’s a guy in full-body purple spandex. (Think Spiderman in purple. I’m thinking the costumed White Lobstah vs. the purple wonder at halftime. But this is why I do stats, not promotions.)

And that mega-swat by Andrew LOVEdale before the break? That one nearly brought the house down, and has me (SO) excited for Saturday’s visit from Dickie V (OH, ARE YOU SERIOUS? THE BIG CAT, BAAAAAABY!)

The off-that-poor-guy’s-back inbounds play in the next period, from The Temp might be too much for the guy to handle … Is it Saturday yet?

And if the half-time margin of 49-31 isn’t enough, the ‘Cats open the second period with 12 straight courtesy of five different playas and roll to the 89-65 win in what was easily the most balanced offensive display I can recall.

With no use for his T-shirt, the purple guy surrenders it to Mrs. Curry and slinks off.

Uninspired.

Comments?

Feb. 2, 2009

Kruse:

*** Talk early in the evening on the in-game thread over at DavidsonCats.com of Stephen going for 50 after his fast start. It’s not like that. Stephen will score 50, if he scores 50, when he needs to score 50. Tonight was not that night. Tonight? More like a 26, 8 and 8 in 28 minutes kind of night.

*** There was a play with like five minutes to go in the first half that was classic Davidson basketball. A kid from Western threw in a crazy bank-shot three. The kid from Western wanted a foul. The fans were wondering how the heck the shot had gone in. And all of a sudden, there was Brendan, son of the coach, laying the ball in on the other end.

From Taking the Shot:

Inside that tiny moment is weakness, and inside that weakness is opportunity for McKillop’s team.

Brendan’s layup? Not an accident.

*** Western called its first timeout of the second half with 20:00 on the clock. Max.

Comments?

Feb. 1, 2009

16point8.blogspot.com:

Last Saturday night, the night the boys from Michigan visited the village, I also met Floyd Strand.

He’s Class of ‘71.

He’s an emergency room doctor.

He lives in Oregon.

And he told me at the Brickhouse, standing there in the noisy, crowded lobby, and practically parenthetically, that for the rest of the basketball season, well – he’s kind of … moved to Davidson.

WHAT?

But you know how the Brickhouse is after games. Too many people to talk to and too little time to do it. So I told Floyd that I wanted to chat with him some more, and he gave me his card, and I gave him a call a few days later.

Why?

He graduated 38 years ago.

He lives 2,820 miles away.

Why?

Here’s what he said:

“To be a part of this …”

Floyd was born and raised in Alaska. He played basketball in high school and he played it well enough to get letters from Lefty. He wasn’t offered a scholarship but he was invited to come to school and try out for the team. He ended up playing freshman ball, back when they had that, the same class as Steve Kirley, Duncan Postma and Billy Pierce.

He went to med school in Chapel Hill. He’s lived out in Salem, Ore., since 1977. For the longest time, he kept track of Davidson’s basketball scores in the form of teeny-tiny print in the back of the sports section of the Salem Statesman Journal, and that was about it, because that was basically all there was.

In the mid-‘90s, though, he started to pay a little more attention to the basketball team. The Internet started to kick up. He didn’t have to just look at the scores in his paper back home. Now he could read about the games.

Then Bobby Vagt ’69 became president of the college. Vagt was his hall counselor way back when. A little more interest.

Then his daughter decided to go to Davidson. Molly Strand, now Molly Strand Deis, is Class of ’02. Her roommate for three years? Kerrin McKillop. Even more interest.

Then his son decided to go to Davidson. Peter Strand is Class of ’05. Even more.

Floyd bought season tickets for the first time before last year. He has four seats, Section 103, Row E, Seats 5, 6, 7 and 8.

Then last March.

Detroit.

“One of the great experiences of my life,” he told me on the phone last week.

“I had to be there,” he said.

“I ran into people I hadn’t seen since I was a student,” he said.

“It was a religious experience,” he said.

This man from Oregon who for the next couple months is living in Davidson is perhaps a particularly eye-catching example of something I’ve been seeing and hearing about all season long.

It is in my mind the very coolest part of this quite cool moment in the ongoing Davidson basketball narrative.

The McKillops’ team, the Mathenys’ team, the Currys’ team – our team – it’s drawing back in alums who had lost touch, and for those who already had a bond it’s making that bond that much tighter, and it’s connecting them to this place, and to this idea, and to each other.

It isn’t just about basketball.

It’s not.

Comments?

Jan. 31, 2009

16point8.blogspot.com:

Watched the game down here this weekend.

Some quick thoughts:

*** Those boys from Samford like to play in the 50s. They win in the 50s. This was the game they wanted to play. AND they got help from Davidson. Foul issues, all kinds of shots missed that almost always are shots made, etc. And Davidson won.

*** McKillop and Matheny and the rest of the staff have these literally thick files on all the teams in the Southern Conference. What they do. What works against them. What doesn’t. Longevity has its perks. So much institutional knowledge. So many little bits of earned and accrued wisdom and tricks. Samford’s the new kid. The Samford file’s not as thick.

*** League play is hard. No matter the league. Losses happen. They just haven’t for Davidson for two years and 11 days. And counting. Which is totally insane. Really. It’s preposterous.

Comments?

Do you want this poster?

How about this one?

Jan. 31, 2009

Tim Cowie on DavidsonWildcats.com:

I am not a writer.

Unlike Biggers and Kruse, who somehow make words flow like water rolling over stones in a quiet forest stream on a fall day, I write with the prose of a hot, humid August afternoon.

What I know is what I see. This week, my eyes had the privilege to see behind the scenes of our men’s basketball program.

There is no ordinary week in a college basketball season.

Unless you consider “ordinary” being – class, practice, play, class, practice, fly, play, class, practice, fly, play and practice again, only to start another week. If that’s ordinary, so be it, but what I can tell you, there is nothing “ordinary” about our men’s team, the staff, and the journey that they lead.

What tidbit of information can I give you about their journey? What inside scoop is there to be had? What really goes on behind the scenes that make our team so special and different than the rest? Why do we win 41 consecutive SoCon games, have a record of 18-3 and are the nation’s basketball darlings?

It’s simple really. In the minds of the players and coaching staff, we are simply trying to win the next basketball game. Practice prior to the Samford departure is as it always is – focused on details.

Defense. I don’t know if Bob speaks the often said cliché –“defense wins championships,” but it’s inherent in what they do. Ask Landry Kosmalski this week if he believes that and how that affects results. Details.

Flight. Don’t know if you realize this, but UT-Chattanooga and Samford are not easy road trips on any day. Certainly not easy on a Wednesday and a Saturday of the same week. A bus trip twice in one week, let alone a commercial flight would have meant long days and more importantly, extended missed class time. A faithful alum made this week possible. Two charter flights, well-rested team, two wins.

Jealous? I understood the question. I understood why it was mentioned.

What I didn’t see is extravagance.

I saw take-out from the Soda Shop, normal pre-game meals, vans to the airport driven by staff, a plane that was a far cry from the luxury private jets we hear auto and bank execs take for weekend jaunts, a bus with missing overhead storage doors (albeit a driver that just graduated from NASCAR school), post game showers in another building and pizza while on the bus going back to the airport.

I mention this not to make you think the team isn’t grateful. Important – extremely. Extravagant – hardly. Thankful – most certainly. Jealous – are you crazy?

The “Shot.” All of us had expectations of how the Samford game should play out. We just witnessed in one fashion or another a great road win over a team that all of us fear (all meaning – everyone but the team), on their home court, 9,000 plus fans, with of course, the exclamation point for the night being the “Shot.”

Samford, on the other hand, is another game and for the team, another milepost on the season’s highway. There are no thoughts of the journey traveled. They are focused on the next milepost. They don’t look into the dark distance, straining to see what can’t be seen. There are no forks in the road, only the next milepost.

Trust. Oh, we all know Trust, Care, Commitment by now. I saw trust in other forms this weekend. The trust that Bob has within his staff. Today, Coach Fox confidently broke down the scouting report.

I will say, that while sitting in a sold out Hanna arena, this school, nestled quietly in a valley at the tail of the Appalachians, searched for something within to make the “Magic City” proud. As the game unfolded, I sense an extreme case of deja vous, reminded of Fox’s pearls of wisdom.

Trust. The team trusts the staff to guide them through good games and bad. Outside of a few dressed in Davidson red, 5,200 white clad fans don’t understand what “trust” means to our
players and our program. To look in our player’s eyes, you don’t see fear. Was today a banner day? No, far from it. Did we shoot well, execute offensively, jump in the path of the cutter, for that matter, heed the words of Coach Fox? No.

As fans finished rolling their remotes searching for SportsSouth, fought with Teamline to hear John Kilgo (anxiously waiting to see how long it took to hear about dogs and a balancing bowl lady) or furiously typing 26 pages on the message board, others found ways to worry about an impending loss.

Yes, there were some “home run” passes, defensive lapses, mistimed shots, and a bad foul or two. Never, was their fear or doubt from those that allowed me to join them on this journey. A quiet confidence, gained from hours of attention to detail. A trust that can’t be imposed, purchased or transferred, but gained only through total commitment. A commitment that started 20 years ago.

So while others were wringing their hands, writing thread upon thread or screaming at their computer or TV about why Steve passed the ball behind his back, Steph made the "home run" pass or Andrew didn’t finish a power move, I sat quietly in the stands. I sensed with the rest of the team, the confidence that Andrew would get the next rebound or Steve would quietly slip from the high post to deliver two points off of a perfectly delivered “single” by Steph. I sat there confidently expecting Bryant to make two free throws. Feel free to write about 50 percent free throw shooting statistics, but with this team it wasn’t Bryant at the line, it was his entire team. For that matter, it wasn’t Steph that made the “Shot” earlier in the week; it was the defensive stop, the Andrew rebound and Bryant running out on the break. Details.

We can talk about the five security guards on the bus to help the guys get from the locker room, the throngs of waiting children and the adults that pretended that they were there only for their children, but ultimately it was just about another milepost.

The plane lands, the vans fill, and “Killer” is off to Shady Acres. The quiet drive back to campus leads one to think only of the next milepost to be reached on Monday. There is no straining into the darkness. Leave it to others to think of the Coliseum up the road in the “Gate City” or how to “black out” an arena for the likes of Vitale and Patrick.

I am confident that this team moves forward, not trying to live with Elite 8 expectations or how to replace the likes of Thomas, Boris and Jason.

They move forward knowing they were better than they were at the beginning of January, confident that with hard work and commitment, they will be better at the beginning of March.

They move forward with only one milepost in their midst.

Comments?

Jan. 29, 2009

More Kruse:

The third sentence of the first AP story out of Chattanooga last night read like so:

Curry hit a 3-pointer as time expired to give the Wildcats a 41-28 halftime lead.

Yes.

Right.

Suppose that’s true.

Then the video of said 3-pointer showed up today, oh, here, here, here and here. And here. Also here. Probably plenty of other places, too, but these’ll do for now.

I could be wrong, but seems to me the shot’s path to everywhere-ness started with local TV news in Chattanooga, then went to DavidsonCats.com, then to personal blogs, then to wider-audience blogs and YouTube …and then to the Charlotte Observer’s charlotte.com and SportsCenter and ESPN.com.

I feel like all this says something important about media here in the early 21st century.

But give me till the weekend to mull that over.

Comments?

Jan. 28, 2009

Kruse:

Everybody comes to see Stephen make magic. And that’s fine. He’ll almost always oblige. But what all those people also end up seeing, and this goes for all the people in Charleston and all the people in Boone and all the people in Statesboro and now all the people in Chattanooga – what I’m saying is that what’s becoming harder and harder to miss is Davidson doing what Davidson does. Watch the games. Look at the box scores. I see Andrew. I see Max. I see Will. I see Ben. I see Brendan. I see Bryant. I see Steve. I see a team that right now, on Jan. 28, 2009, is better than its predecessor was on Jan. 28, 2008. I do. So. That’s 10-0. That’s 40 in a row. The story’s not over. The story continues.

Comments?

Ricky and Kyle

Kruse on 16.8:

Ricky Price and Kyle Mattson are students at Michigan State, which is in East Lansing, which is nowhere near Davidson, and yet the two of them drove all the way down in Ricky’s red Hyundai for Saturday night’s game at sold-out Belk.

Why?

This is something I’ve been interested in since last March. I know why I’m interested in Davidson basketball. I know why people like Cobb and Sink are interested. They went to Davidson and the place helped make them who they are. And I know why people like Meg and Chip are interested. They didn’t go to Davidson but they live in Davidson and they know the people who make Davidson basketball go.

But why do Ricky and Kyle from Michigan watch Davidson games whenever they can on TV or the Internet?

Why did Ricky do a Google search to find DavidsonCats.com and then register and then start posting?

And why were the two of them in Davidson, on Saturday, early in the evening, sitting at a table in the Brickhouse with William and Sink and Sink’s wife and daughter? The two of them even were wearing matching black homemade screen-printed shirts that said DAVIDSON and had the cat head logo on the front and a CURRY and a 30 on the back.

Davidson seems different. That’s what Ricky said. Ever since March, when he watched the Gonzaga game, he’s followed the team. He stressed that last word. Team. At Michigan State, he said, it feels like the guys are there more to try to go pro as fast as they can.

And also Stephen.

Of course Stephen.

They like watching No. 30.

“There’s just something about him,” Ricky said.

The story of Ricky and Kyle I think says something important about what Davidson basketball is at this remarkable moment in its history. The program right now is big enough to draw them in but still small enough to take them in.

On Saturday at the Brickhouse before the game William bought the boys’ pizza. For the game Eddie donated a ticket, and Reed Jackson donated another, and they sat in Eddie’s seats, Section 103, Row C, Seats 5 and 6. Wells gave them some gas money. David Rorie gave them some more. Big John Harper the hot dog man at the Wildcat Den gave them nachos and Cokes.

After the game Sink took their homemade shirts down to Rossiter. Rossiter took them back to the locker room to Stephen. Stephen signed them in silver Sharpie. Later, back at the Brickhouse, Ricky and Kyle showed them off.

To Ricky

God Bless

Stephen Curry

To Kyle

God Bless

Stephen Curry

They stood in the lobby and told me how much fun they had had and how awesome it was to watch Stephen have 23 at the half and how it was a smaller but louder crowd than at Michigan State and how much they liked Sweet Caroline. They said it seemed like everybody knew each other. They said they were shocked at how many people seemed to know them.

When I was talking to them, and I swear I wasn’t in on this, Sink and Eddie were out in the parking lot up to no good. Which is why when Ricky and Kyle got back in their little red Hyundai and drove all the way back to East Lansing, all hopped up on Mountain Dew and 5-hour energy shots, they did it with a brand-new Davidson license plate bolted to the front of that car.

Comments?

Jan. 25, 2009

More from 16.8:

Mike Young in his presser after last night’s game at Belk said he practically laughed during his team’s Friday scouting session when he looked at a freshman guard from Cincinnati and told him who he was going to have to guard.

“Brad,” Young said he told the kid.

“You’ve got Curry.

“He’s No. 30.

“He’s pretty good.

“You’re gonna have to roll your sleeves up on this one, buddy.”

Like Eddie says: “the bright, sunlit uplands.”

Some thoughts here before heading back to the Sunshine State:

1. Will Archambault every game gets at least one rebound he shouldn’t have gotten. Not talking 50-50 boards. Like 30-70. Or 20-80. He’s one of the five best players in the Southern Conference. Y’all know that, right?

2. Last night, in the front row behind the near basket, there was a ninja, there was a boxer, there was a white lobster, there was a cat in the hat with Mickey Mouse hands, there was a kid wearing a red Max No. 14 jersey made of nothing but body paint, there was a kid wearing a red Rossiter No. 23 jersey made of nothing but body paint.

3. One lineup last night for Davidson: an NBA point guard, two 6-foot-6 Canadian run-and-jump athletes on the wings, a stone-cut 6-9 Nigerian at one big and at the other a 6-9 Brit who seems to be sucking down more than his fair share of protein shakes. No wonder these guys are 9-0 in the league.

4. Just scads of unmolested jumpers for Davidson. Hardly any for Wofford.

5. 30’s gone for 30 now 25 times.

Comments?

Jan. 24, 2009

Kruse: Left Greater Tampa so early this morning the clerk at the 7-Eleven told me to have a nice night.

Jan. 19, 2009

Me in an e-mail: I don’t think this year’s team has a Jason like Jason was last year. But I do think this year’s team is coming along to the point where you can count on a different Jason or Jasons showing up every night. On Stephen’s decision: Too early to say. If he’s a basketball person he leaves. If he’s a Davidson person he stays. Stephen is of course both.

(Also) Jan. 18, 2009

Claire:

Happiest moment? It isn’t possible to name just one. It never is, but this year seems especially … deep and full. Davidson vs. UNCG/all home games/winning SoCon/beating Gonzaga/beating Georgetown (this might be the top. Watching it happen, “Davidson back from the dead” – screaming my head off with Elizabeth on the phone, and the unparalleled frenzy of BLISS because it was the impossible come true.)/beating Wisconsin (but this, this was so EASY and joyful and triumphant and uh, I WAS THERE)/the Kansas game (because really? REALLY?).

Comments?

Jan. 18, 2009

More Kruse:

Left west central Florida. Drove. Saw on I-95 in South Georgia a silver Infiniti with Florida plates and inside was a man and a son and they were wearing matching red WITNESS caps and the boy had on a 30 jersey. Saw Hanner sell out and stay silent. Saw all those folks cram in there to see Stephen and instead just sit there and have to watch a team that doesn’t lose in its league. Saw Davidson in the first half miss 22 shots and six free throws and two-thirds of its threes. Saw Stephen miss eight threes. Saw Davidson still have 51 points at half. Saw Davidson get 52 rebounds. Saw Will Archambault. Saw Dan Nelms. Saw Davidson play defense. Saw Georgia Southern go long stretches, chunks of minutes, here, there, everywhere, and not have even a remotely, reasonably decent look. Saw Bryant make shots he can make. Saw Andrew go for 16 and 15. Saw people leaving with NINE minutes to go. Saw Will Reigel and A.J. Atkinson get into the game. Saw Lee Sargent. Saw Doodle Wally. Saw Bob McKellar. Signed his book. Sat with Meg Clark. Drove. Drove more. Got back.

Comments?

Jan. 15, 2009

Kruse:

Read this yesterday for the first time. It’s what the Duke Basketball Report wrote after last week’s game at Cameron:

Here’s something to kick around: the more talented you are, the less likely you are to be a great basketball player. The catch, of course, is how you define great.

If greatness is defined by physical ability, then the argument is moot. But if you look at basketball as a series of adaptations to
physical challenges, then the less talented player has to make more adaptations to continue competing at a higher level than does the more talented player.

You could argue this case with Bill Russell vs. Wilt Chamberlain, Reggie Miller vs. Michael Jordan, or with Larry Bird or Magic Johnson vs. any number of their contemporaries.

You could, one supposes, start to make that argument about Davidson’s Stephen Curry.

Interesting. It made me think about something I read last summer when I was up in Davidson. Pat Jordan on Tom Seaver in his anthology:

The point is I could bring it faster than Tom. I always could. In Little League. In high school. Tom never had the luxury of my blinding talent in his youth. ‘I never threw hard then,’ he says. ‘I was aware of my physical limitations at fourteen. I had to adjust.’

Pitching became for Tom, at fourteen, not a physical activity, but a mental one. He learned how it felt to be shelled unmercifully one inning and then have to walk out to the mound to begin the next. ‘It’s a terrible feeling,’ he says. ‘You want to quit. You feel it’s hopeless. You have to force yourself to start again. Some guys can’t do that. They’re always fighting things beyond their control.’

Tom Seaver learned, earlier than most, to deal solely within the framework of his limitations. To circumvent those limitations. Unlike me, I raged against my limitations, and in the process, my very real talent suffered.

Which made me think of Stephen.

Lots of people have tried to identify the reasons for his immense appeal – reasons, obviously, that go beyond points scored.

How he looks is on that list.

If he can do that, well, maybe I can do …

But what I like about this idea here is that it at least starts to demystify. It doesn’t stop at the notion of some nature-and-nurture tonic that makes Stephen able in some extra-special way to do what he does. No.

The suggestion here is that perhaps a gift can be what’s not there.

That it’s up to us how we choose to respond.

Comments?

Jan. 14, 2009: Back home

Me:

Games are so much fun. I feel old at them now, being a junior and all, with only one class above me. It’s so strange that the freshmen never knew Jason or Thomas or Boris. And they didn’t know Steph when he wasn’t famous. I love standing with my group that has re-worked and re-formed itself, always a bit fluid even (especially?) three years on.

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