Welcome to Belk

Dec. 9, 2007

Will Bryan '08 on Will's World (which you should check out in more detail because of his awesome in-game blogs and posts from '07-'08):

Last week, Michael Kruse asked if we were still having fun.

Yesterday, I watched Davidson take on college basketball’s most storied program, and I had seen the Wildcats answer some very important questions. In the first half, they moved the ball, shot it well, found inside looks and attacked loose balls. But then something happened … they started turning it over, making bad fouls in transition and taking bad shots. I thought we had answered our questions. But ultimately, it was just another “coulda” loss to a Top 10 on national television.

Are we still having fun?

The other day, Stephen Curry was walking around campus with a reporter from the Los Angeles Times. They walked into the Lula Bell Houston Laundry where Steph explained how the whole process worked. To many outsiders, Davidson’s free laundry services seems like just another weird quirk to add to this already quirky school. As Steph demonstrated where he would usually drop off his dirty clothes, Carol Belk walked up to him and gave him a big hug and a word of encouragement. The reporter quickly noted this and started spinning a story in her head for how Curry is loved and embraced in such a small community. What this, and so many other stories, don’t mention is that all of us here at Davidson receive our own embrace. It’s not just Stephen Curry that people know. Everyone knows everyone, and we all support each other through that. Davidson is a really special community with special people to keep it that way.

Are we still having fun?

As Davidson jumped out to its 18-point lead yesterday over UCLA, I received numerous calls on my cell phone from rabid Davidson fans watching around the country. As I periodically check my stats for this blog and see the numbers of Google searches that merely say “davidson basketball,” I continue to be amazed at the growing popularity of this team. As my Dad can no longer wear his Davidson shirt around Charleston without having some random stranger ask him something about our basketball team, I know that we have something special. As national reporters continue to call for interviews with a team that is now 3-5, I know that Davidson’s name has become associated with the big time.

Are we still having fun?

Not long ago, I read a post on Davidson’s message board that said that there is no difference between this year and any other year of Davidson basketball. I completely disagree. From one standpoint, I could argue that this year is better because of the attendance numbers, media attention, marketing clout, etc.

But I would also argue that this year is unlike any other year in Davidson basketball because we’re on the verge of replacing fun with a drive for professional success. Davidson fans seem to need that NCAA tournament victory like their lives depended on it. Back in high school, I felt like my life depended on my high school football team winning the first round of the playoffs my senior year. I never played in a game where I had less fun. And of course, we were upset on a last second TD.

There was a time in the past when Davidson players stopped having fun. They were 10-5 in the Southern Conference and did not look like a team with seven seniors. But then Coach McKillop wobbled into practice completely wrapped up in duct tape. “You aren’t playing loose!” he yelled as one of his assistants unwrapped one layer. “You are playing not to lose!” he screamed as they took off another layer. “You aren’t having any fun!” he exclaimed as he ripped through the final shreds of tape, grabbed a ball and nailed a three-pointer from the top of the key. That year, Davidson went on to sweep the tourney and win the automatic bid.

Are we still having fun?

Over the course of the next two days, I have to write my last ever article for the Davidsonian. I am going to take the time to recount how much fun I have had in the last four years. Fun in winning, fun in losing. Fun in being a part of something exciting, competitive, but ultimately noble. Davidson athletics are noble, and that is a part of what makes them fun.

Are you still having fun? I hope so … because I am.

Comments?

Dec. 8, 2007

Me on DavidsonCats.com:

So: Beat the Citadel, and by a lot to a little, just because. Then go to Raleigh and win. Then get into the thick of league play, and win a game, and then win another, and then another after that, and keep doing it, and keep doing it until Charleston, and then IN Charleston. Because it’s always about the first week of March. It always has been.

Then: We can all start to think about The Next Step, which, remember, happens on CBS in March, not WGN in December.

And: Enjoy it along the way. Enjoy Steph because he really is a joy to watch. Enjoy Jason because every game he plays is one game closer to his last as a Wildcat. No more gnashing of the teeth over the fact that we came up short, but not by much, against THREE OF THE BEST PROGRAMS IN THE HISTORY OF COLLEGE BASKETBALL.

Chill out.

Settle in.

It’s time to be the bully. Beat the bejesus out of the Southern Conference. I don’t know about you guys but I’m rooting for bloody noses.

But before moving on, before preparing for Thursday night’s laptop listen to the Citadel game, it should be said that a nonetheless good time was had in Anaheim, albeit quick, too quick, out and back. Saw some good people. Saw some good people I hadn’t seen in a good long while. Saw Nick Booker, saw Dick Snyder, saw Quinn Harwood give his son noogies. Saw some Davidson banners in Southern California. I like it when I see Davidson stuff in faraway places. I know where it came from.

Comments?

Looks like home to me

Slumdog director Danny Boyle

In Kurt Andersen’s Reset: “There’s something about that innocence and joy when you don’t quite know what you’re doing.” March 2008. The Davidson Project.

Dec. 3, 2007

Kruse on DavidsonCats:

Still having fun?

I started really thinking about this after talking with Kyle Whelliston at halftime. He said he was there to do another something on Davidson. The two possibilities heading into Saturday’s game: (1) Davidson as “conquering hero,” to use his term, or (2) “What’s the matter with Davidson?”

See the end of Sorensen’s column Sunday?

“Here’s the best thing about Davidson.

“There was a time when almost beating the Blue Devils and Tar Heels would have excited the team and its fans. That was long ago.”

Kinda makes me happy to read that. Also kinda makes me sad.

This IS exciting. This SHOULD BE exciting. We lost by a combined 10 points, on a neutral floor, to two of the best teams in the country. What’s the MATTER with Davidson?

Don’t get me wrong. I want them to win, get over that hump, whatever. I want McKillop to win one of these games because I think he’s an awesome ambassador for my alma mater, and because we’re lucky to have him, and because all three of his children decided to go to Davidson, and because I think that’s maybe the coolest thing about the man and his relationship with the institution. I want Matheny to win one of these because he went to Davidson, and because he’s been at Davidson, and because he’s STAYED at Davidson, and because that’s worth a lot, because it’s stuff like that that makes a place what it is.

But I don’t want them to win for me. They owe me nothing.

Maybe that’s splitting hairs. I don’t know.

One last thing, though: Last Thursday night, I went to a Davidson alumni event in Tampa. Tom Ross was there. These things are always the same, a little cheesy, totally formulaic, but at the same time I’m always glad when I go, because while you’re eating shrimp and drinking wine and meeting doctors and lawyers and watching that parade of blue blazers and khakis, you listen to the president give his little status update, about how smart and accomplished this year’s freshmen are, and how good Chambers looks now, and somehow it’s exactly what I want to hear, because it makes me think about things that make me feel good.

I was born outside Los Angeles. I grew up outside Boston. Since I graduated, seven years ago, I’ve lived in Charlotte, Chapel Hill, Durham, Wellesley, Mass., Warwick, N.Y., Spring Hill, Fla., Tampa and Land O’Lakes, Fla.

Which, bear with me, is my way of explaining why I got in my car Friday night to drive 569 miles to go see the Wildcats play, win or lose, past the palm trees, away from Florida’s loose, sandy soil, up toward all that rich red dirt.

Comments?

Starting something

Roy and Stephen

Calls for a caption contest.

From the pages of Charlotte magazine

Here:

Now it’s almost forty years post-Lefty. Bob McKillop has been Davidson’s coach for almost half of those. His team won a school-record 29 games last year, is returning every player of any consequence, is in line for a third straight NCAA tournament appearance, and has on this season’s schedule games at Charlotte Bobcats Arena against North Carolina and Duke.

This year could be the year the Wildcats win back Charlotte.

All it took was the legacy of a coach who did his thing and left, the development of a coach who’s done his thing and stayed, burgeoning suburbs, and finally a skinny, unafraid 19-year-old kid who could end up being the most important player in the history of Davidson basketball.

Comments?

Video from Evan Downey

Nov. 14, 2007

Claire:

And somehow the time winds down to when this moment is ACTUALLY HERE, when we overpower the announcer as he proclaims our boys — Steph, Thomas, BO-RIS, MPG, and JRich, the heart of the team. I mean. I don’t even know these boys but I love them and their journey is a PART OF US. And so it begins — we keep up with them, we’re WINNING! And things turn over and turn over, and we are killing our voices and yet bringing them to life with never-ending cheers — we are freaking HOLDING OUR OWN AGAINST THE #1 TEAM IN THE COUNTRY. We’re making mistakes but in a way it doesn’t matter — suddenly they’ll miss a shot, somehow we’ll get it back, and we score and we jump up and down and up and down and shriek and yell even if nothing comes out. I keep turning to Joe because I feel like he understands me best in this regard — “Look at this. Look at what the hell we’re doing. Holy crap.” I can’t help the profanities that leave my mouth, I really can’t. Becca and I wrap our arms around each other from the suspense. The D-Block chants, chants, chants. Half ends. Losing by 7. I’m terrified we’re gonna get tired and lose it. But we just go for it. It’s tied or within 1 for the rest. Tyler shoves Andrew and we flip out. Steph makes his free throws. He’s looking at us for a second, as if he’s just taking this all in, and we simply point back at him — what else can we do? IT’S YOU. And when we sing SWEET CAROLINE, OH OH OH we are ONE. I am surrounded by one wonderful Davidsonness. It means so much in these moments it’s hard to describe, and it’s not just because we’re doing so well … we are proud of our community, of our life together. Someone starts “FOUNTAIN WALKER” and it grows louder until he waves at us and we cheer. And then we shriek and yell and scream and jump and pretty much freak out some more. And you know what? Losing by 4 POINTS to the best team in the country is not a DAMN bit of bad. We are walking out of the arena, surrounded by our peers. We are exhausted and undoubtedly disappointed because if we hadn’t made stupid mistakes it would’ve been different. Someone yells and it echoes: “DAV-ID-SON, DAVIDSON, DAV-ID-SON, DAVIDSON!” And soon we are all screaming it as we leave the arena, and that pretty much made my week.

Comments?

Dec. 9, 2006

Davidson 79, Charlotte 51.

Oct. 31, 2007

Claire in her journal:

Halloween -- although the adorable kids came through the dorm last night, so it doesn’t really feel like it. In the lobby before breakfast, I flip to the Sports section of USA Today, in case some little blurb about Davidson basketball shows up unexpectedly like it did a couple of weeks ago.

Hm, there’s a lot of red on the front page of Sports today. Wonder what --

WAIT. WAIT. WAIT.

STOP. STOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSODASHOP -- ?

I tug, and the pages come whooshing out.

It feels kind of like walking into the 900 Room before Maryland, being jarred into a weird little 2-hour surreality where I see familiar faces starring on national television. But somehow this is a little different.

Number one, we haven’t done anything yet.

And number two, we’re not … we’re not moving.

This is not a channel you change if you don’t like what’s on. This is not a name you hear through air on the street and never think of again. This is a nationally syndicated newspaper that is sitting in offices, schools, on doorsteps and street corners … Today, millions of people have NO CHOICE except to stare at these resolute, unwavering faces, these red jerseys, these boys all piled into a very recognizable wooden corner, not a mile from where my feet are planted. I could get there in three minutes, easy. The Soda Shop, the second place I ever ate in Davidson, with its oldies rock and hardwood booths and paper cups with cold ice water and onion-y burgers dripping with soupy blue cheese and ketchup. Black and white pictures of basketball teams hang on the walls, a quiet tribute to passing history (and the age of short shorts). The Soda Shop, on the front page of a section in USA Today.

AT DAVIDSON, HOOPS, BOOKS COEXIST.

I’m sorry, WHAT?

This is too much, this is too -- makes it pound harder in my veins than it ever has even though I know all the facts, I know the challenge, I know the possibility, I know …

They’re not moving.

LOOK AT US.

Comments?

Current community footnotes

So let's start this.

An Experiment in Trust

Kuykendall: “... these four years at Davidson are not an end in themselves, but primarily a means to a much larger end ...” Listen. Read.