The Wisconsin poster

The others: Gonzaga, Georgetown, Kansas.

(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. 9, 2009

Kruse on 16point8.blogspot.com:

An e-mail back-and-forth with Kansas City Star KU beat man Brady McCollough:

Me: Enjoyed your piece. Posted it on the blog at 16point8.blogspot.com. I’ve obviously thought A LOT about that moment, probably too much, but hey – it felt right, and it feels right, and so I thought about it and still think about it. In your story, you write about the image of Self on his knees – “the purest kind of relief” – and that’s part of the conversation that’s been going on mainly in my own head since almost that moment itself. Since Detroit. Was starting to knock around up there literally as I was walking out of Ford Field. Question: What to make of the differences between the emotions being felt in the immediate aftermath of that game by Kansas fans and by Davidson fans? In other words: The predominant emotion on the Kansas side was Self’s emotion: RELIEF. The predominant emotion on the Davidson side, I think, was … fullness? Maybe that’s a tad revisionist. Missed opportunity, for sure, but the emotions I was feeling right after that game, and the emotions that were being felt by many others on the Davidson side, were just so … overwhelming. So varied. So full. So … interesting. Contrast that with relief. Relief is a form of happiness, for sure, but it also, by definition, is happiness above all else, I think, that the OTHER thing did NOT happen, not that THIS thing DID. You know?

Brady: That difference in emotions is what made the Kansas-Davidson game the most fascinating psychological battle of the college basketball season last year. You had Kansas, a basketball blueblood and perennial power that had not performed up to expectations in the NCAA Tournament in five years and hadn’t won the big one in 20 years. In the Jayhawks’ corner, all you had was negative energy on that day: Bill Self’s 0-4 record in the Elite Eight (encompassing trips with Tulsa, Illinois and KU) and Jayhawk failures under Roy Williams (losing to Arizona in 1997, Rhode Island in 1998 and Syracuse in 2003). The Jayhawks played like they understood their reality all too well: If they lost, they would let down hundreds of thousands of fans and alumni. Then you had Davidson, with enough positive vibes to make downtown Detroit seem less Gotham and more Metropolis. (Okay, not quite that positive). Davidson had America pulling for it, they had absolutely no expectations to live up to and that’s how they played. When Jason Richards’ shot didn’t fall, Davidson’s fans were crushed, of course. But they appreciated the fleetingness of the moment. Kansas fans, after a loss, would have left the arena assuming that a trip to the Elite Eight in the next few years was a foregone conclusion. They would have gone home to their Rivals.com accounts and started forecasting the 2010 starting lineup. Davidson fans left the arena with the stark realization that they may never experience those two hours ever again. Am I right?

Me: Fleeting, yes, granted – absolutely – but NEVER is a big word. There were plenty of people there that day in Detroit, middle-aged men, dressed in red and black, who were boys the last time Davidson played a game for a spot in the Final Four, against Carolina, in College Park, back in 1969, and still have vivid memories. Here’s the thing: I don’t want to judge and in essence try to quantify the validity or the intrinsic value of one fan’s experience of that moment versus that of another. But I do wonder: Let’s say Davidson fans really did understand – your word – the “fleetingness” of that moment. The specialness. Let’s say that because of that they watched it and felt it that much more intently. Let’s say Kansas fans left thinking mainly: Whew, what a relief, that was close, too close, shouldn’t have been that close. Let’s say life is pretty much white noise, blah, blah, blah, one foot in front of the other, except for very, VERY few moments of true, clear meaning, where time practically slows to a stop, and that give you the energy to even begin to put up with all the blah, blah, blah. Davidson got one of those moments, and its fans, even inside that moment, right then and there, seemed to know it. Kansas fans? They wanted the shot to miss. Maybe I’m being totally unfair. But I can’t help but compare.

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Dec. 15, 2008

16point8.blogspot.com:

Got this in my inbox the other day: “What does the ‘16.8’ represent with respect to Davidson basketball? Just curious.”

In a word: hope.

In two words: a moment.

In three words: earned and experienced.

Allow me to quote Gus Johnson, CBS Sports, March 30, 2008, Ford Field, Detroit: “Five to shoot!

“Collins!

“Three to shoot!

“Lets go!

“Off the front rim …

“No!

“And with 16.8 to go!

“DAVIDSON!

“WITH LIFE!”

Comments?

Possibility

On the shot, and trust

William: But in that moment, we had in our hearts and minds, proleptically I think the theologians would say, the joy of having it go in. Before it was not in, it was as good as in. For that fraction of a second, we had that experience, and it is enough. It is well worth the journey. At least for me it is, and I guess the ultimate point of this too-long post is that I hope it is also worth it for Jason. He took the shot. He gave us that moment. He trusted, and all we can do is be sure our reaction is worthy of that trust. Our responsibility, if that’s not putting it too boldly, is to be alert to the value of that moment, to cherish it and remember it.

... and even more ...

Cheshirecat on DavidsonCats.com:

What I loved:

Feeling closer to my Davidson brethren than ever before as we chanted “We Believe!” in the latter stages of the Kansas game.

Seeing the Georgetown game with my dad next to me in the student section (you’d have to know us, but that was one of the best days of my life).

Realizing that my cries of jubilation were silent after my voice disappeared in the wake of the Gonzaga win.

Watching perhaps the most well-grounded student athlete in the country constantly deflect praise onto his oft-overlooked teammates.

That the actions of a few classy young men were able to engender goodwill and joy across a community.

That the toll takers on the West Virginia Turnpike congratulated us on our run.

That the team exuded confidence, but never cockiness.

That we went for the win.

That I cared enough to sob uncontrollably after J-Rich missed.

And finally, that I really believe that these feelings could never be reproduced anywhere else.

Who is Cheshirecat?

And more from March 31, 2008

Claire in her journal:

YOU WERE GREAT IN 08 -- YOU’LL SHINE IN 09!

I know it’s small-town sweet, but seeing this sign on the town green as we finally get back just makes me want to punch something (Hey, Jayhawks, c’mere).

It doesn’t help that I have to go to class in ten minutes.

Yeah.

Around three-disgusting-something in the morning, after finally settling down and putting on a movie (Hitch has never been less funny), we stopped at a bus weigh station in Kentucky? Ohio? Tennessee? I don’t know, with a mini store and two bathrooms for over two hundred people. Good idea, bus drivers. Good plan there. Jamie had rubbed her eyes groggily as we all wandered aimless squinting through the fake lights, said, “I’m twenty minutes from home. I could just call my mom, tell her to come get me.”

And now Dr. Boyd looks around wistfully, her eyes shining too brightly. This redheaded woman, standing in a building where she once was a student, mother of two boys, looks at us -- tired in spirit just as we are, just as our bodies are fake-straight against the chairs, trying to get the bus smell out of our nostrils and the hole out of our stomachs, put away thoughts of sleep -- but could I really sleep when I keep reliving it over and over in my head? I feel thick mellowed filmy 24-hour sweat on the back of my neck even though I changed clothes. I’ve left my ears in the bowels of Ford Field.

Work just doesn’t work today. It’s not about work today.

Comments?

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.

Comments?

John Burns on DavidsonCats.com

With this:

My lasting impression from this season, thanks to these gutsy kids, is the feeling I had when that shot left Jason’s hand. Joy. Anticipation. Hope. What happened next is irrelevant.

Comments?

William on DavidsonCats.com

Here:

If we are mark’d to die, we are enow To do our country loss; and if to live, The fewer men, the greater share of honour.

So, it turns out that the Henry V speech was prescient, if not exactly for the reason we thought. It seems clear that Kansas won because they outnumbered us, and our guys finally got run down enough to make for a one-basket difference. This is no knock on our bench -- as that Jason Whitlock guy said, when the other team brings a potential NBA starter off the bench, well, that’s something. Curry outran everybody who tried to keep him from getting the ball and an inch of daylight until four guys finally slowed him down just enough to reduce him, momentarily, from transcendent to merely brilliant.

Sixty five teams enter this contest, and the players and partisans of all but one will go home disappointed, so one must be prepared to expose one’s character at a time of loss. Our guys did that well. I can’t think of a more honorable way to fall short than to just run out of gas. No one needs to look back on a bad shot, a missed free throw, a bad call by a ref. All those variables were within the normal range.

Whitlock’s article, posted elsewhere, makes some good points, and it is a warm feeling to know that just about the whole world wanted “us” to win. But I respectfully disagree with him on one point. The players and fans of Kansas need feel no regret about stopping Davidson one step short of the goal. Because Coach McKillop and his team aren’t pesky, and they don’t need anything other than a fair chance to run any team in the country off the court. They played the 1, the 2, and the 3, and fell short by that much. They don’t need a pat on the head. They belong, and I’m sure they are prepared to deal with what happened.

By winning the Southern Conference tournament, the team earned the privilege of playing one game on what is arguably the largest stage in amateur sports. They fought their way -- like Wildcats -- to the opportunity of playing four such games, each more important than the previous. There were so many highlights that it will take all summer to sort them out. Just the second half comeback against Georgetown was a big enough highlight for a whole season.

When Jason’s shot was in the air, everything was possible. That moment is why we take the ride, and I thank the players and the coach for that moment, and all the others.

Comments?

Claire in Detroit

Here:

They are standing and the clock the clock NO don’t start clock NO oh my god oh my god oh my god

There is no hunger there is no thirst there is no future past before or after there is just now now now and I see Stephen with the ball moving desperate back forth fake up side side and the clock hurts it wrenches my stomach and pummels my heart and their arms are too much too big too everywhere why can't he slip past why can't it just move and slip through and go and swish down so easy and right and suddenly Stephen doesn't have the ball he doesn't have it shit shit shit he doesn't have it it's in the air it's in Jason's hands breathe in breathe out Jason Jason Jason Jason can make threes he hit like five on Friday Jason Jason Jason fivefourthreetwo and he launches it I can't look I can't look I can't look because it means something will happen but I look because it means something will happen because we could win this game

No. No NO nononono NO no NO I don’t understand fucking shit I don’t understand I don’t it didn’t happen shit it fucking didn’t it’s not true it’s a joke it was practice we get to do it again and again and again until we get it right again it isn’t real it he’s not falling to the ground (JRich will not let this team lose very many games. His chest might not be big enough for his heart.) no no no no he’s not I can’t look I can't there’s not he’s not it’s not NO.

I’m angry I’m so so angry I’m so no I’m not I can’t feel anger I can’t feel anything I am frozen burning falling standing we have to I have to get out I can’t move I don’t want to move please can we do it over again all over again please I have to get the fuck OUT of here I want to go to sleep no I want to start over I want NO I want Final Four I want it to be four minutes ago thirty seconds ago whatever the hell just not right now just NOT RIGHT NOW AFTER no no no

“THANK YOU, TRUSTEES! THANK YOU, TRUSTEES!”

But NO it hurts this time to scream it literally hurts my heart my throat my eyes it hurts but I scream it because it’s true and I clap my tired buzzing numb palms because but it’s too fast it happened too fast it is it is it was it isn’t it wasn’t

“THANK YOU, WILDCATS! THANK YOU, WILDCATS!”

And we chant and they’re walking off the court because it’s over it’s over it’s over but I can’t I want to thank them but I want them to be happy and they’re not and I’m not I can’t I mean I just it’s not who can

“HAAAAAAND TOUCHING HAAAAAAAAAAAND—”

Oh my dearest lord god this is going to DAMMIT DAMMIT DAMMIT but I sing in my hoarse hoarse exhausted voice sing it again play it again

“REACHIN OOOOOOUT, TOUCHIN MEEEEEE, TOUCHING YOOOOOU!”

It’s loud always loud it’s the same but it’s not the same how can they play it down there how can they hold their instruments the same why the hell why am I singing it when I’m SO FUCKING SAD?

Can’t look at the court can’t look hear buzzing and listen to my own voice barely there I am so Jesus Christ tired and my phone is buzzing in my pocket and I’m so mad so so mad at my phone at my parents I know it’s them I don’t even look and I want to jump and punch and scream WHY WOULD YOU EVER CALL ME RIGHT NOW WHAT IS THERE TO SAY THERE IS NOTHING TO SAY I WILL NOT BE DEFEATED I WILL NOT EVEN IF I AM

“SWEET CAROLINE, OH OH OH! GOOD TIMES NEVER SEEMED SO GOOD! SO GOOD! SO GOOD! SO—”

My eyes are stinging popping with tears but they don’t spill they don’t they can’t I’m surrounded I want to burst into tears I want to so bad it hurts not to and we just stand and sing and the signs are down but hands are up and fists are raised but I just can’t I just want I want it all back I want it all forward but different not this forward not this and I don’t want to stop singing the song I don’t want to have a reason to stop singing the song ever because when we sing the song we’re all together and the boys are there and we all have life a place a goal a family and Jason and Thomas and Boris are there and when I stop singing the song they won’t be there the next time they won’t they won’t and

Comments?

March 30, 2008

Will:

An early morning saw Davidson students dragging out of bed to come down to the hotel lobby to film a short segment for ABC’s Good Morning America. The network grabbed the current and former student body presidents, the senior cheerleading captain, threw in some stereotypes and got out of dodge.

… Tiny Davidson where the quirky little students act so cute with their textbooks and their Neil Diamond …

The students might not have the voice to express it, but they are tired of being patronized 15-year olds in an adult world. They are tired of reading about how cute and feel-good their team is in a college basketball world of pre-professional men with full-grown facial hair. They are tired of the stereotypes that say that these kids don’t belong in downtown Detroit, so they should just go home to their suburbia where everyone loves everyone else in some surreal bubble.

Today, Davidson gets to grow up in everyone’s mind. And when they do, the world will realize that the hearts, passion and wherewithal of our students and players are even more mature than X-big school with their hundreds of thousands of fans and proverbial facial hair.

Dropped off in downtown Detroit at high noon, I was with a group that took over a local burger joint and filled it with Wildcat red. Natives with Red Wings gear came in and gawked at the tables of Davidson students singing to the ‘60s music blaring from the jukebox. One Kansas couple came in and walked back out immediately.

Davidson is formidable in this town today. The school is not just formidable because every non-Jayhawk fan is pulling for the Wildcats, but because there has been a transformation in this student body. Over half of Davidson’s students will be here tonight and all of them know the score. This isn’t the same student body that left games early to go do homework. This is no longer the group of kids that largely had no idea what was going on down there on the court. This year has been Big Time Basketball 101 and these students are ready for their final exam.

I sit here in the media room right now and watch as Memphis creeps closer to being the third #1 seed to reach the Final Four. I read Gregg Doyel’s column about how Kansas is bigger, faster, stronger and they should be able to drive Davidson into the ground. On paper, this is supposed be one of the biggest blowouts in regional final history. Davidson doesn’t have a chance, right?

But here’s the coolest part: No one cares. Davidson students aren’t fretting about what they can do about slowing down all those McDonald’s All-Americans. They know exactly what is going to happen tonight … Davidson will play to win, they will get better, and they will have a whole lot of fun. And when the eight-minute mark of the second half rolls around, Davidson could be on the verge of doing something historic, or they could just be fighting to make it respectable … but either way, these Davidson fans clad in red will lead a rousing chorus for the world to join in on.

Oh Sweet Caroline … these good times have never felt so good … I’m completely inclined … to believe they never would.

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