It's been awhile.

On Monday night, I (a fresh alumna, stepping on unsteady feet -- hence the "it's been awhile," at least from my side) remembered something.

.

I watched the new boys -- Charlotte, Charlotte, Sewickley PA -- ball with the ones I know by heart, Montreal, Montreal, Charlotte, Davidson, Nigeria, Nigeria, Jacksonville, with Barrington IL watching close from the sidelines. I watched them play and thought about all they've been through, the moments, choices, shots missed and made. High school, NCAA, NBA, Europe. I saw different teams slammed together into one. I saw the joy and struggle from the past pushing forward into the future. I felt what this team has been for me, a vessel for community spirit and support.

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I watched them play pick up where I always watch them (not cozy coldwinter but muggy solstice), and felt myself pushed forward a little, too; the invisible tassel on my invisible cap still dangles unevenly on that new side. Who am I? Atlanta, Charlotte, ________?

.

Maybe that won't get answered for a good, annoyingly long while. But sitting there listening to the familiar squeaks of skidded rubber on polished wood, I realized that we all came here because somewhere down our roads, this place struck us deep and gave us tales to tell. We repeat stories, create stories, await stories. That's how all this keeps moving. That's how new chapters are written.

.

Daaaaaaaaaaav-idddddddddd-sonnnnnnn.

.

I remembered all that. And after these quiet two months, I'm trying to say --

.

This is important. It's going to happen. It's still moving. Stay tuned.

March 17, 2009

Me, on writinggirl.blogspot.com:

Sometimes the most exciting thing about being here is realizing that I’m going to know so many of these people for the rest of my life.

March 15, 2009

More from Michael:

I’m feeling anxious and melancholy right now for a number of reasons. Davidson’s exclusion from the NCAA tournament is not one of them. This season, the Year After, started in earnest with a four-point loss on the home court of one of the best teams in the country, on national TV, in which Stephen had 44 points, after which my phone rang with a call from a friend in the basketball business, who started the conversation by saying: “Whoa.” We saw gyms full and records fall. We saw a win in the program’s old second home in the city of Charlotte. We saw a win in the world’s most famous arena in which the buzz was for one of ours. One man moved from Oregon to Davidson to watch his alma mater’s basketball team. A man and his son from Florida with no connection at all to the school bought season tickets and started flying up from Tampa for Saturday games. Two kids from Michigan drove all the way down, just for a game at Belk Arena in January, and then turned around and drove back. Bob Knight called Stephen Curry the best passer in the history of college basketball. Now comes the NIT. Davidson has been playing basketball for 101 years. Only 15 of those years have ended with national postseason play. More than half of those 15 berths have come under Bob McKillop. This is one of them. This is the fifth in a row. That’s never happened before. It is the continuation of the most consistently fine time to be a fan of Davidson College’s basketball team in at least the last 40 years and maybe ever.

Comments?

March 14, 2009

An e-mail from William Robertson '75:

The arcane deconstruction of every possible thing that could happen with every bubble team is a perfect example of a mental exercise that I would never undertake but which I guess doesn’t do any harm. It seems silly to me, but everybody has to have something to do. The business with Stephen is probably mostly that – silly. I guess he has been important enough to the program that it is somewhat understandable, and the fact is that somebody as thoughtful as John Gerdy made intelligent remarks about why Steph might want to stay.

Steph and his family are smart enough, I’m confident, to figure this out without being influenced by outsiders. As you well know, some grownups do in fact become pretty silly when it comes to their sports heroes.

Comments?

March 13, 2009

An e-mail from Bro Krift '99:

Let the young man be a young man. Let him decide with his family (both blood and basketball family). It’s not our business. I’ve enjoyed what he’s given me as a fan so far, and I’ll let him do what he needs to do.

I’m proud of him.

March 11, 2009

An e-mail from Barry Dailey:

I’m a UConn grad and have lived in Davidson for 14 years. It took a lot of Davidson basketball to get me to replace my Huskies Hat for the Wildcat. It was Thomas Sander who finally coaxed me into Wildcat Country. Never saw a player who not only always seemed to be positioned so thoughtfully on the court – but at the right angle. Not only was his body where it was supposed to be, but his feet too. Textbook feet. Great high school coach + Bob I guess.

Anyway we went to Chattanooga. After Sunday’s game we were at the hospitality event at the Sheraton. Understand we are not insiders to the program. We keep our distance but remain captive to how artfully Bob runs things. So he comes up to our table, leans over and introduces himself to our 7-year-old girl who has a Wildcat tattoo on her cheek and a Wildcat basketball in her hands. “Hi Megan, I’m Bob McKillop.” (The guy was less than 2 hrs from a really tough loss.) His emotion was all over his face. He looked exhausted – but his class would not be denied. He stays a while and chats with my wife and I. … Strangers mind you.

When most coaches would be at the bar or hidden away in their hotel room … not this guy.

After Sunday’s game we again talked with our daughter about how there are lessons to be learned when you win and when you lose. How Steph embraced those C of C guys after the game … not with that half hug kids do … but a real, sincere embrace to kids that just beat Davidson – again. No pouting and no excuses. Good luck guys… great game. That’s how you lose. That’s how you live.

Yesterday our daughter was awarded the “school bear” for sportsmanship by her gym teacher… coincidence I suspect but who knows?

Comments?

March 8, 2009

writinggirl.blogspot.com:

Maybe, because it’s a sport and all, it shouldn’t hurt as much as it does.

I mean it’s kinda stupid, right?

Maybe, because it’s a sport – and a team and a school and a community – that embodies so much more than shoes squeaking down a wooden court, it is

absolutely

gut

wrenching.

Right now, I think we feel – I feel – like it throws so much out of sync, out of proportion if that makes sense. What does it do to the past? What does it do to the future? What do we do with this? What do they do with this? I feel pulled together by numbness yet shattered apart by uncertainty, frustration, confusion, sadness. Knotted and untied.

The bit of me, the smallest part of me that can see without feeling (or maybe feels the most in a way), thinks that this season needs to be over. I don’t quite know why (and the rest of me screams at that little bit, HOW THE HELL CAN YOU SAY THAT?!); something about past and present and future grinding together (over on top of too much) and pressure (lights/stats/crowdsurfing) and living up and expecting and not really smiling anymore. Worn down, worn out.

So rest.

Rest and come back.

I will.

Comments?

Feb. 28, 2009: Will

Will Bryan on pavingthemiddle.blogspot.com:

Davidson’s last two home games against UNC Greensboro and Georgia Southern weren’t supposed to be close. Both opponents are having off-years and are vastly undermanned.

But the two games represented important moments in the 2009 Wildcat basketball season. Davidson needed to bounce back. They needed to win in front of their home crowd. They needed something that everyone agreed that they seemed to have lost.

They won consecutive homes 70-49 and 99-56. Fans scoured stat sheets to find signs of life … Frank Ben Eze’s big scoring and rebounding numbers. Rossiter getting double figures today. Curry with 11-19 shooting today.

People seem hopeful. The basketball seems to be going in the net more now.

I’m excited again for other reasons.

On Wednesday, Davidson’s ticket director asked me where I thought everyone was. Attendance was lower than it had been and Belk Arena was quieter.

“I don’t know, and I don’t care,” I answered. “The people that want to be here are here.”

Davidson is in a good place now because the fans that are in the stands want to be there … not because they are scared of missing a Curry moment if they don’t come. These are fans that stay to the end because that’s what you came for, not individual acrobatics.

Davidson’s players want to be on the court as well. There isn’t fear of messing up and breaking a streak and falling out of at-large contention. It is just an intense desire to go steal that ball and dunk it home (Davidson made 15 steals today, and four of them came before Georgia Southern scored a basket, 5.5 minutes into the game).

Davidson is back to cheering for Can Civi and the celebration of his “35th birthday” and recognition for a career in which he averaged tenths of a point, and yet still drew the highest praise from the All-American for being the “hardest working player on the team” and “one of the main reasons that everyone is pushed to get better every day.”

That’s why I have hope. I hope now because this team isn’t innocent. They know what big-time expectations look and feel like. They know they could be bigger than “Davidson.” But after struggling with that for months, they turn around at the last moment and finally embrace everything that Davidson has given them.

They have been in the wilderness, but now are home. And that’s good, because March is just a few hours away.

Comments?

Feb. 28, 2009: Claire

From my journal:

The game was good — we’re finally back on track! David said, “All right boys, I want 100!” Nope, but still so nice to get a win at home. Lord, we badly needed that. And the whole time I was just very aware that it was my last game in Belk until SENIOR YEAR. WHAT? The comfort and contentedness I feel in that place — that back row of the endzone — is indescribable. Every time I’m there I know it is exactly where I am supposed to be.

It’s neat because the same ticket-checking guy has been there the last several games and so we’ve started talking to him more and he’s started reacting more to the game and it’s been cool to see that take place. And the pep band is wonderful — all of the songs they play are so evocative for me and it just puts me in the moment.

Towards the end of the game CIVI! came in — a guy in the bleachers had been holding up a sign that said “HAPPY BIRTHDAY CIVI” so someone in the row in front us passed along the message — “Guys, when Civi goes in we’re gonna sing happy birthday!” So we giggled and whispered and waited for our cue – probably from D Block? — and suddenly the entire arena burst our singing — as the boys were playing —

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR CIVI!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!

It was so wonderful and completely epitomizes what this place is about, hype and ESPN be damned — we care about them. Who sings “Happy birthday” to their beloved bench warmer during a game? Seriously.

And then as soon as the game ended and they shook hands, McKillop grabbed the microphone — “Tonight is the last time that three of our players will be in front of their peers at Belk Arena …” and Andrew, Max, and Civi unclumped themselves from the clump in the middle of the court and grinned and waved while we screamed and McKillop introduced them. Those three, I realize now thinking back, have always been so happy. They are always smiling, and they play so hard all the time.

Comments?

Feb. 28, 2009: Michael

16point8.blogspot.com:

Almost a year ago by now, with Stephen and Jason and Thomas and the rest of the team, too, there was, I’ve come to think, a very rare convergence of ability and innocence.

The guys on last year’s team were good enough to do what they did. But they were also inexperienced enough and unburdened enough to not quite know what was on the other side.

That was the simple and unspoken and yet somehow tangible bond between the players and the coaches and the people who stopped to watch.

Here we are.

Here. We. Are.

I’m thinking now of those still photos, and maybe you are, too. That’s what everybody saw.

This year, of late in particular, it feels like maybe this team has gotten away from that, and certainly some of the fans have. Maybe it’s human nature. I don’t know.

Earlier this week, I flew though Detroit on the way to Pittsburgh, and when I was walking through the terminal I found myself thinking about a moment from Ford Field that Sunday last March.

During the timeout, with 16.8 seconds left, I was in Row 25 and I turned around and looked a row behind me and saw Tripp Cherry ’99, and he was on the phone, talking to his wife, Carrie ’01, who was back home in Charlotte studying for law school finals.

I couldn’t hear what he was saying, the place was too loud, but I could see the big, wet tears that had pooled in his eyes.

Many months later, over a supper at the Soda Shop, I asked Tripp about that moment. I ended up writing about this in the book.

Tripp said he and Carrie had talked about the play that was about to happen.

He said she told him just before the ball was put in play that she should probably let him go.

And Tripp said into the phone:

“No.

“Stay.”

The point here is this: There’s a game here at Belk in a minute. There’s a game Monday at Elon. There’s a game Saturday in Chattanooga, then maybe Sunday, then maybe Monday.

To ask March 2009 to be March 2008 is to forget what made March 2008 what it was.

The don’t miss this.

The here we are.

The No. Stay.

Comments?

Sacred

Me, on writinggirl.blogspot.com, Feb. 25, 2009:

It’s funny; even during the warm months of fall and spring, when basketball season is coming near or drawing to a close, and only handfuls of people occupy the gym, the pool, or the tennis courts, I can still hear it.

I push through the sticky slow doors of Baker Sports Complex and swipe my ID card that never works, harshly reminding me of that with a grating beep. I walk past the stairs that lead to the Wildcat Den (best soups, sandwiches, and cookies in Western North Carolina, best people in the world), and stare through the glass walls in front of me into the sparkling slick vacant basketball arena. I know if I walked inside it would be hushed with the eerie, stagnant tranquility of the off season.

But I still hear it ringing in my ears.

Silent echoes of cheers, chants, music blaring over the speakers, announcers and fans wildly putting sound and meaning into the otherwise quiet swish of a ball through a net.

It shivers in my bones and lands in a quiet smile on my face. This place is filled with memories of energy that has been, and thankfully, with frenzy and jubilation and possibility that will be. The silence makes sacred what will happen again…

Comments?

Feb. 19, 2009 (again)

My journal:

Nathan was still in town and had gotten a bleacher ticket, Hawaiian shirt and red crocs and all. During the second half, I caught his eye during the fight song, and we were losing, probably would lose, did lose — but he was still clapping and chanting and singing as loud as he would have been in the endzone, and he nodded at me as we raised our fists, a very strong nod, almost approval, like “this is right. This is what we are supposed to be doing. THIS.” Win or lose, doesn't freaking matter — always, always sing. That still mattered to him from up in the bleachers, from nearly a year past graduation — that still mattered to him. Always sing. It made me feel that really deep, and part of me felt like a torch had been passed, but more than that it made me realize the history of this place and the tradition we have helped maintain—because people come and go and cycle through but there are always people who taught you first, before you taught anyone else, always people who showed you what Davidson basketball was about before you came into your own … Before anyone started associating me with Davidson basketball in whatever capacity, fan/writer/whatever, students who were my friends and students I didn't know showed me what it meant and why it was important — and they let me come into my own by making it so easy to become a part of this fanbase. I BELONG there, and the reason I belong there is because of the people who first made Davidson basketball special, sacred, for me— the ones who have left — and I feel like somehow, they are still at every single game with me. Joe. Nathan. Pierce. JB. Rachel and Harper. Will Bryan. Andrew Ruth.

Comments?

Feb. 19, 2009

Claire:

Here is what I think.

I think it’s great that Brendan played the whole game.

I think FBE is going to kick ass.

I think so much of it is mental. Too much. And it pisses me off.

I think it’s frustrating.

I think it’s possible.

I think he’ll stay.

I think (no, I know) it’s my favorite place in the world.

Comments?

Feb. 16, 2009

Kruse:

We want him to be okay, and when I say we I mean us Davidson folks, and we want him to be okay not because of BracketBusters or scoring records or NCAA bids but just because we want him to be okay. For him. Not for us.

Right?

Right?

Comments?

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. 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

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.

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Jan. 14, 2009

Will Bryan on DavidsonWildcats.com:

So a little over a year ago, Davidson won a classic conference grudge match at Elon University. Many remember Stephen Curry’s eight points in the final minutes as a defining moment of the season.

I remember that night as the time when Lauren Biggers emerged as the preeminent Davidson basketball blogger. She took over my blog (Will’s World) that night and never turned back.

Tonight, I return the favor.

I promise a few less of these (!) and a little less of that screwy Mac-centered formatting … (I was just told I can’t change that).

So we’re back for SoCon play in Belk Arena. Another capacity crowd was on hand and students were back in school (I don’t remember that break being this long when I was here).

This crowd had all the familiar faces and a few new ones, as Joe Gibbs joined us in the arener with his new season tickets.

This stretch is all about familiarity and repetition. Same coaches and same players that we know and love (Ola ola ola ola). Same trends (Is Brett James sparking a comeback again?)

But in the end, it’s Davidson on top. For the 42nd time in a row (including tournaments), Davidson came out on top against one of those familiar squads with the SoCon logo on their jersey.

So what set this one apart?

Well, there was the focus on interior scoring at the beginning (Rossiter scored his four points in the first three minutes). What about those five blocks and that rebounding advantage (36-33)?

Steph did his thing again. It actually made a message boarder eek that he’s back (he’s back?!?). Dagger three at the end of the half off a 50-50 ball that made new Elon assistant Wes Miller slam his clipboard and Bob McKillop nod.

This was the learning experience that you can’t just sit on your laurels with a 22- point halftime lead.

“We need to be killers,” Steph said.

What about you as the best passer in college basketball?

Head rub. Look to the ground. “Home runs … I need to work on those six turnovers I had. We hadn’t prepared for that full court pressure since we only had time to look at their half-court sets.”

That’s what this is about.

Learning on the fly. Springing new leaks and fixing some old ones.

Print off the box score. Go to the Brickhouse and do it again next week.

It’s almost addicting in its repetition. Be careful Lauren. I might not want to give this back up now.

When’s the next home one? Next Wednesday? Hmm …

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