The Wisconsin poster

The others: Gonzaga, Georgetown, Kansas.

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(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?).

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Raleigh

March 31, 2008

Lauren Biggers on DavidsonWildcats.com:

As we sit on the bus and wait for a plane to take us home, assistant director of ticketing and roommate on this crazy ride, April Albritton has a song stuck in her head. You know the one.

Good times never seemed so good.

It is the song that has come to define a season. A season so good that we will always remember this crazy ride.

And yet, without the good times, there is no reference point for this moment. These feelings.

They make the good times feel so good.

This loss will hurt for a while, to be sure. But when it’s all said and done, it’s the good times that we will remember. The winning, the records, the championships, the banners.

Beyond that every story is personalized. Remember where you were when the Wildcats knocked off Gonzaga? Georgetown? Wisconsin? Remember how you felt? Remember that.

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In Raleigh after Georgetown

From Jip Richards.

March 24, 2008

Landry Kosmalski on DavidsonCats:

As the Davidson band played "Sweet Caroline" during Sunday's game against Georgetown, I looked around the RBC Center. Davidson fans, students, parents, alumni -- and even former basketball great, Hobby Cobb -- were on their feet singing enthusiastically. One journalist later labeled this display "corny." But as I scanned the stadium to measure the reaction of the thousands of North Carolina fans in attendance, it seemed to me that they thought it was anything but corny. In fact, I think they were somewhat envious and thought it was pretty cool.

That is what makes Davidson special and unique. Sure, we don't have the same facilities and resources that many of the bigger schools have: we don't have 17 practice courts, or charter planes, or obscene amounts of shoes and apparel. But that is not for everyone. What we do have is players that know our fans and students by name and are proud that we have an anthem to sing (however irrelevant it may be).

Despite being a former player and coach, I was not prepared for how proud I would feel after this weekend. After the Gonzaga game on Friday I raced to the hotel to meet the team. I hugged some of the guys and told them that they had no idea how much the win meant to former players. The older guys -- Boris, Thomas, and Jason -- might have understood a little bit. The freshmen said, "Great, Larry," and went looking for their girlfriends.

As cliche as it sounds, why did this team's success mean so much to me, someone who graduated eight years ago? Why was I tearing up when the final buzzer sounded against Georgetown? I will do my best to articulate it: in January, with many players gathered for Davidson basketball's 100 year anniversary, Coach McKillop talked about dreaming big. He spoke about how he believes Davidson can get back to the heights it reached in the 1960s. While many may think that is impossible, the people at Davidson do not. Therefore, we work very hard: we lift, we run, we play, we fight, and we compete every day of the year -- all while simultaneously working hard in the classroom. While struggling through the rigors of the Davidson academic workload, and playing for Coach McKillop, one is not inclined to make excuses. Home from Georgia Southern at 4 a.m.? So what -- get to class at at 8:30. Up all night studying for a test? Too bad -- practice hard for two and a half hours. Nasty dead-leg to the thigh? Get tougher. We welcome these experiences because we see that goal in the distance: getting back on the national stage. We know that all the hard work -- all the early morning workouts, all the frustrations, all the long, tough practices -- will one day be worth it. But when? We made a small step in 1998 by making the NCAA tourney. Almost had Ohio State in 2002. Gave the Buckeyes another run for their money in 2006. Gave Maryland all they could handle in 2007. Great progress, but still not where we wanted to be. Everyone associated with Davidson basketball --players, coaches, fans, students -- still wanted to take the next step and make some real noise.

So would all the hard work over the years ever be worth it? Would tiny Davidson ever really be able to touch the national scene? Well, I can now tell you that the answer is yes to both questions. This year's team may never fully understand it, but what they have accomplished this year (so far) is a gift to anyone who has ever been involved with Davidson basketball: fans, students, coaches, and players. We all know that Davidson is a special school in a special town and, despite its size and seeming limitations, we have always felt that it can have a very special basketball team.

This is where the feeling of pride came from on Sunday. That is why, when I felt myself tearing up, I did not know if I could articulate my thoughts to anyone. Luckily, I was sitting next to my former teammate and roommate (and soon to be former Davidson career assist leader), Ali Ton, and when I saw the emotion on his face, I knew that he did not need an explanation. When I left my seat and went out into the hallways of the RBC Center and saw the students and fans cheering, high-fiving, chest-bumping, and singing the fight song, I again realized that no explanation was necessary. The Davidson people understood it: against long odds our team accomplished a near miracle.

So as Davidson heads to the Sweet Sixteen and maybe (gasp!) the Final Four, my pride will not dissipate. And if I find myself being envious of other schools' resources, facilities, or the size of their fan base, I will think back to this weekend and remember that I would rather be singing "Sweet Caroline" with Hobby Cobb any day of the week.

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Aftermath

Me in an email -- to myself.

Subject: just breathe.

I cannot believe that I am writing to tell you this after the most insane basketball game ever. I cannot believe I am writing to tell you that about 20 minutes ago, we did it.

WE DID IT.

WE BEAT GEORGETOWN.

HOLY SHIT.

WE WERE DOWN 17 IN THE FREAKIN SECOND HALF.

AND SOMEHOW, WE DID IT.

Steph wasn't hitting much of anything, Thomas, Andrew and Steph had over 3 fouls, the Hoyas are damn HUGE and hit 3s like crazy and -- WHO COMES BACK FROM 17 POINTS DOWN IN THE SECOND HALF OF A NCAA BASKETBALL GAME????!!!!!

Dad and I were yelling, I got text message after text message:

Anna: Oh. My. God.

Rachel: Ahhh! Go cats!!

And suddenly we were up 3 with 2 minutes and more stuff happened that I can't even tell you right now because I just don't even know, and they fouled Steph AGAIN! And Dad was tsking because two minutes is a long time in a basketball game but he kept shooting them and we held our damn defense and I still can't quite believe this happened. And with 9 seconds we had it and Elizabeth called and I answered the phone and we shrieked without actually talking for a full minute, watching OUR FREAKING BOYS GRIN AND SMILE AND DANCE AROUND AND THROW THEIR ARMS AROUND EACH OTHER AND HOLY SHIT WE DID IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Joe: oh my god

And on the davidsoncats board people are going beserk, and other SoCon fans are sending their congratulations, and Will Bryan said he nearly freaked out on press row and Lauren Biggers is going to have one hell of a blog to write, and the front page of SI.com has a picture of Steph POINTING UP AT GOD LIKE HE ALWAYS DOES AND OH MY DEAR LORD I CANNOT FREAKIN BELIEVE THIS!!!!!

Everyone's facebook statuses are changing and more and more texts and phone calls and articles and this is not just a one-game thing anymore. This is national. This is IT. This is a fairly unathletic #10 beating a huge, went-to-the-final-4 last year #2 who was up for almost the entirety of the game. This is unspeakable, indescribable, hands down my life is made.

When I talked to Em and Elizabeth we kept repeating "I love our school. Our school is awesome."

More will come later. Oh my god. This is one of the best days ever.

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March 23, 2008

Me:

Andrew rips into the rebound and I'm screaming, all I know is that I'm screaming deep in my gut and I'm moving, past the television that I can't hear anymore, leaping towards my father, wringing him out with a hug still yelling and he's yelling too and I wrench away to the other end of the basement body shaking palms sweaty and all I can do is keep pushing my heart through my mouth because I will die if I stop screaming because because -- because --

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March 22, 2008

Adam Stockstill on Cats.com:

What's he that wishes so?
My cousin Curry. No, my fair cousin:
If we are marked to die, we are enow
To do our Wildcat Nation loss; and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
God's will, I pray thee, wish not one man more.
By Jove, I am not covetous for just a first round win,
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;
It ernes me not if men my Curry jersey wear;
Such outward things well not in my desires:
But if it be a sin to covet a trip to San Antonio,
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from Davidson, North Carolina;
God's peace, I would not lose so great an honour
As one man more, methinks, would share from me
For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more long range three.
Rather proclaim it presently through my host at the RBC Center,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let the Hoyas depart. His passport shall be made
And crowns for convoy put into John Thompson's purse:
We would not die in Georgetown's company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is called the Feast of Curry:
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a-tiptoe when the day is named,
And rouse him at the name of Curry.
He that shall see this day and live t'old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his Tar Heel neighbours,
And say "Tomorrow is Saint Curry's Day":
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars
And say "These wounds I had on Curry's day."
Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember with advantages
What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in Billy Packer's mouth as household words
J-Rich the Warrior, Sander the General,
Lovedale the Nigerian Nightmare, Gosselin and Archambault,
Be in their flowing cups freshly remembered.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Curry's Curriness shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered;
We few, we Lunatic Fringe, we band of Wildcat;
For he today that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my Wildcat brother, be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition:
And gentlemen in Davidson now abed
Shall they think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Curry's day.

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There’s something about this picture

Video from Evan Downey