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.

.

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.

(More) March 18, 2009

Will Bryan on pavingthemiddle.blogspot.com:

It was the best of times and it was the worst of times.

I had this as the title of a blog post for weeks now. It seems that my own laziness in writing it turned out to be more serendipity than anything else.

With Davidson’s regular season winding down in February, games became more drawn out, Steph Curry became more fatigued and the impossible looked to be happening: Davidson was not only not finding a groove, they seemed to be getting worse.

All of that bad juju came to a head in Chattanooga on semifinal Sunday, where, four years prior, Davidson’s perfect conference season had been shattered by UNC-Greensboro. This time, after a fire alarm, missed defensive rebounds, poor close-out defense, and a rhythm-less and motion-less motion offense, Davidson went to the mat against College of Charleston for the second time this year and were effectively knocked out of the NCAA Tournament.

Davidson might lose games. In fact, Davidson does lose games. But they never lose seasons, and this season, that of the Top 25s, All-America honors, national TV coverage, standard-bearer for mid-majors, began to feel like a lost one. Sure they had plenty of good numbers to suggest a successful campaign, but they weren’t playing their best basketball in March. They had not seemed to play to win, get any better and they certainly didn’t look they were having any fun.

And then, when all of Davidson’s magic had seemed to fly out the window and fans seemed to watch and imagined how they would lose instead of believing how they could win, the Wildcats pulled an NIT miracle.

With the emerging freshman forward on the bench in street clothes and the All-American as good as out the door to the NBA by every sportswriter’s count, this was just going to be a formality. “Could be Steph’s last game,” says ESPN's Hubert Davis. “Probably will be,” says Doug Gottlieb at halftime.

The game itself was almost exciting. Then the refs got in the way. Four minutes into the second half and South Carolina is in the bonus and Davidson has three players with four fouls and two with three. Three minutes later and South Carolina has taken the lead and Davidson calls timeout.

What looked like fight and desire had turned into pain and frustration yet again. It’s bad enough to lose when everything is on the line. It’s even worse to lose when no one even seems to care.

But then, for 12 minutes, a handful of Davidson basketball players and coaches effectively saved the 2008-2009 season, restored pride in a program quickly sliding out of national view and pulled an NIT miracle.

Coming out of the timeout, Curry hit a three. Then Lovedale got to the line, Ben Allison with a monster defensive board, Barr got to the line for three shots, Steph Curry with a steal and Ben Allison fouled in transition. After a few Curry turnovers lets SC draw back, Curry finds Lovedale in the lane for a jumper, then he hits a three, then Archambault gets an offensive putback: 7-point-game. Five minutes to go and Davidson has responded to every Gamecock attack.

No one knows every single thought that went through the players and coaches minds last week. McKillop described his team as “angry, tense, irrational, disappointed … there were a lot of negative emotions.” And yet while South Carolina made their fifth NIT trip in seven seasons, Davidson had so much to lose last night.

For a program that had so long reflected the philosophy and the character of its head coach, it seemed that the Wildcats were not moving on to the next play, they weren’t acting as one five instead of five ones, they weren’t playing to win nor getting better nor having fun. And that seemed to be the greatest tragedy. Books, blogs, articles, TV segments had been dedicated to why Davidson did things the right way and why Bob McKillop’s program was one you could believe in.

Last year, on the NCAA stage, those players affirmed all of those things. But last night, in Columbia, S.C., they had to find them again for they had been lost.

And so Davidson moves on to St. Mary’s for ESPN match-made-in-heaven between Curry and Patty Mills. Davidson could very well lose out in California or they could survive and advance to the quarterfinals. Either way, the entire team knows that this season cannot and will not be a failure. Because on the road, and in a hostile March do-or-die environment, Davidson’s players fulfilled the expectations of Davidson’s program. They weren’t the expectations of CBS or ESPN or the USAToday or whoever else, but they were ones that long-time fans of the red and black have come to see year in and year out and they are what make every Davidson fan believe that as long as there is time on the clock, there is always hope.

And when all of the dust settles after the NCAA tournament’s opening weekend, there, on Monday, will be Davidson, still playing. Still dreaming. Still inspiring. Still believing.

Comments?

March 18, 2009

Lauren Biggers' View From Press Row:

It is Monday morning at the office. Yes, THAT Monday morning. (OK, maybe more like mid-morning, but that’s beside the point.)

The office is eerily quiet. Like spring-break quiet magnified by 100, and it’s more than possible that I’m the only one downstairs.

But before long, associate head coach Matt Matheny wanders in. Grabs the paper. Sits down. We chat a little. He reads the paper. Glances at the TV.

“How do you feel about the NIT?”

“Honestly, I’ve never been to the NIT. So I don’t know. How do you feel about it?”

About the situation, I feel like everyone else around the program. Sad, disappointed, sad, and angry, but mostly, sad.

After last year’s run, the expectations on this team were great. We know now, and some of us probably always, too great.

I believed until the Selection Show was over. Mourned. Moved On.

If the ‘Cats can do the same, what I feel about them is pretty good.

A few hours later, we get the draw: at South Carolina.

A few days later, we are at South Carolina. In the NIT.

Which is different from the NCAA Tournament in a lot of ways. There are no charter flights. No scheduled practice sessions. There is no pre-game press conference. No need. No one carrying a microphone reporter to reporter, waiting to be acknowledged by a moderator insisting that you identify yourself before asking a question. No one making you pour your can of soda into a cup with the right sponsor on it. (Which, come to think of, is nice actually.)

But there are similarities, too. Fans, buses and ticketing questions. Mascots and cheerleaders. Credentials and name cards.

And it’s still win or go home.

And Tuesday night, it was pretty clear pretty early these Wildcats were going to win. The game was misleadingly close in the first half, and when the Gamecocks attacked, the ‘Cats answered every time.

They surrendered the lead just once, but from around the 10-minute mark in the second half, it felt like a win. And you know what, it felt good.

In the shadow of last season, it’s tough to say if it felt as good. I think we’d all rather be dancing.

And yet, there is MAX doing a little dance after forcing a T.O. late in the game. There is the WL doing a little dance on the bench (to be fair, who doesn’t love Sir-Mix-A-Lot’s Jump On It).

There stands The One the Tournament will Miss, icing another game at the free throw line to the too predictable chants. Standing there, he looks so little like the one who inspired the baby-faced, curfew thoughts of old and much more like the one who routinely drops 30 to the crowd's delight. And when it's over, he still looks like the one who enjoys it.

These Wildcats look like they want to survive and advance.

And afterwards, I can’t help but think about Gonzaga. The energy, the emotion that cannot be matched here. Those magical moments in the locker room. In the post-game. In the hotel.

But there is Matt Matheny, on the phone in the tunnel, with a simple fist pump and head nod.

And yes, coach, I think I could like the NIT.

Comments?

(More) March 17, 2009

Michael:

This was a difficult game. Quick turn. On the road. The NIT and not the NCAA. It was made more difficult by the officials’ apparent decision to call a foul on what seemed like just about every touch in the first part of the second half. Max and Steve with four fouls before the first media timeout? Seriously not ideal.

Davidson has a reputation for being very very physical. I don’t think I’m revealing any great secret by saying that. They have that reputation because they’ve earned it. There’s a difference between being big and being physical. Duggar Baucom told me that last summer in my reporting for the book. The guys who play for Davidson, he said, almost every one of them, almost every year, are the latter. They play physical because they have to. Refs who for whatever reason decide to call an abnormally tight game typically mean not good things for Davidson.

And yet: 70-63.

A win like tonight’s is the kind of thing that makes a team like Davidson that plays on Davidson’s level a program. It’s not as important as beating Gonzaga, Georgetown and Wisconsin on CBS – obviously – but it’s still really important. It is.

To be a program like Davidson wants to be, and is, and to do that from where Davidson sits within the structure of the sport, you win your league in the regular season. You do that more often than not. In Davidson’s case, of course, at least over the better part of the last decade and a half, you do that far more often than not. You don’t beat teams from power conferences every time you play them but you do beat them some of the times you play them. You win, like, 18 games in down years. You don’t go to the NCAAs every year but you are in the running. You have a real chance every year.

And in the years where it doesn’t happen and you don’t get to the NCAAs?

You get invited to the NIT.

And you win there.

Comments?

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 9, 2009

Kruse on 16point8.blogspot.com:

There are always reasons.

Antwaine Wiggins made Stephen work hard, and struggle, and that was not a surprise. He’s done it before.

Charleston beat Davidson on the offensive glass, and that wasn’t a surprise, either. Some of those offensive rebounds came late in the game, and made a big, big difference.

All sorts of other things, too, are right there in the box score – Will and Bryant a combined 1-for-14? – but I’m not a big box score man anyway.

If you’ve watched this team, not just on the TV or the web feed, if you’ve been to Belk, if you’ve been around Davidson, if you’ve been around this group, and if you’ve watched and felt how this season has developed, and how these guys have developed – and how they haven’t – you sort of saw this coming. Easy to say now. But you did.

This has been a fun year, at least at times, and even here and there a really fun year, but mostly – mostly it’s been a long year. I don’t mean season. I mean year. Last March to this March.

There was no off-season this year.

What happened with Davidson basketball over these last 12 months, for the coaches and for the kids and for the program and for the institution they represent, was totally unprecedented. There was no blueprint.

It’s going to take some time, maybe, to sort this out, but something interesting was at work ever since Jason took that shot.

I’ve listened to enough fans the last few months say that the wins this year didn’t feel as good as they once did and that the losses felt worse than they ever had.

Fans are tired.

The guys on the team? They’re not robots. They’re not pros. They’re very serious about their basketball, yes, but – they’re college kids, they’re students.

I think they’re exhausted.

And I’m not even talking about physically.

Cremins, in the press conference after the game last night, unprompted, said this:

“Maybe they’re tired from what they did last year. They might be tired. They might be a little tired.”

McKillop, back at the hotel, in the lobby, with people packed in around him in a large, open room, and with people leaning over railings from the balconies above, said this:

“I don’t know if you understand the pressure that’s been on our guys since last April.”

It’s tough to measure pressure. Expectations. Exhaustion. There’s no box score for stuff like that. But those things, and anybody who’s been paying attention knows this – those things, all season long, were thick in the air around this team.

One final thing from last night: When the buzzer sounded, the TV cameras, I’d imagine, did something they haven’t done in a while. They shifted away from Stephen Curry. Charleston was jumping and hollering and TV cameras love winners.

So there was a moment there, perhaps, however small, when Stephen was, for the first time in quite some time, relatively unwatched.

He walked over to the bench. He stood at the rear of the line of his teammates as they started to walk up the sideline to shake the hands of their opponents. He looked down for not long and then looked back up. He seemed to take a deep breath.

And then he did what he’s always done. He tapped his chest, quick, with his right hand, and he pointed up high.

He turns 21 on Saturday.

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?

March 7, 2009

16point8.blogspot.com:

On most days in the Southern Conference, not all days, but most days, the difference between Davidson and the other 11 teams in the league is Stephen. Today Andrew was huge, huge, huge, especially in the middle and late parts of the first half when Stephen was on the bench with two fouls, but even so… It seems silly even writing this at this point, ever, in particular in March – I mean, we all know this, right? – but today, for whatever reason, it just jumped off the page:

The ball in the hands of No. 30 is a scoring opportunity.

Comments?

A status update

1. When (it’s coming): The initial idea was to pull together the various pieces of the project and have them bound in book form somewhere in the vicinity of the end of the season. As the season progressed, and for a number of reasons, we decided it was better to extend the timetable just a bit. So now the book will come out to coincide with the beginning of the school year. First of all, we hope that completing it over the summer will allow more people to get involved to make this the best, most comprehensive collaboration it can be. Also, it just feels right: late August, early September -- a new book for a new academic year, with a new season just around the corner.

2. What (is in it): The manuscript starts in the fall of 2007 and goes through this season. We’ve included blog posts from both of us, message board posts from DavidsonCats.com and many other things that have been written by many other people along the way, Kevin Cary, Lauren Biggers, Greg Dunn ’75, Stan Brown ’78, Eddie Nicholson ’79, David Sink ’86, Adam Stockstill ’01, Kaylie McKellar ’08, among others on a list that goes on and on. Lots of this stuff you’ve probably already read, but it’s never been brought together in the same place, printed and permanent, in the form of a keepsake.

Also, we have original essays that describe people’s Davidson experiences through the prism of the basketball program, written specifically for the project, by people ranging from William Robertson ’75 to John Gerdy ’79, from Nathan Bradshaw ’08 to Will Bryan ’08, from Beth Van Dyke ’09 to Rachel Hope ’09. The two of us, too, have written original introductions to the collection.

It goes on: We have photos from Tripp Cherry ’99, Evan Downey ’06, Andrew Ruth ’07, Rachel Purcell ’08, John Bryant ’08, Allie Coker ’10, Douglas Agan from Mooresville, David Boraks from DavidsonNews.net, and of course Tim Cowie.

3. Who (is designing): The person who is going to take all of this and make it look awesome is Alan Hyder ’99. This is good news. The former Davidsonian staff cartoonist is a graphic designer. You know him because of the posters he made that have been so well reviewed here and over at DavidsonCats.com.

Speaking of the posters …

4. How (to order): There will be a few options. You can order just the book, you can order the book plus two of the posters, or you can order the book plus all four of the posters. We’re thinking at this point the book will cost somewhere between $20 and $30. We’re thinking the book plus two posters will cost something more than that. We’re thinking the book plus all four posters will be somewhere between $50 and $75. Ultimately the price figures will depend on a couple things: how much it costs to turn Alan’s original art into poster prints, and also how many orders we get. The more orders we get, the lower we can go on the price.

And speaking of ordering … here’s how: E-mail one of us -- krussptnews@gmail.com or clasbury@davidson.edu -- and tell us what you want. Book? Book plus two of the posters? Book plus all of the posters? We’ll put you on the list. If you say you’re going to buy x, y or z, we’ll consider that a promise. Honor Code and whatnot.

5. We’re the ones taking the pieces and turning them into one whole, but this is your project. If you haven’t written anything, and would like to, or if you’ve got Davidson basketball photos from the last few years in your files -- please, send them along. If you have any questions, feel free to get in touch with either or both of us. Thank you as always. We think this is going to be a really, really cool thing. The story continues.

-- Michael and Claire

(More) March 2, 2009

16point8.blogspot.com: Best thing, by far, about tonight: Bryant and Will are heading to Chattanooga feeling pretty good about themselves. Also good: one of those nice, tight, efficient games from Stephen -- only 16 shots -- and four non-No. 30 Davidson men in double figures, too. So: Won 25 games. Best record in the league. Again. Beat an ACC team in Charlotte. Beat a Big East team in Madison Square Garden. That’s a darn good regular season. One of the very best in the history of the program. Stop and think about that. Still: gotta win three. See you in Tennessee.

March 2, 2009

Lauren on DavidsonWildcats.com:

“How fun is it for you to watch him play every game?” comes the question from my newest friend, court side (yes, court side) at the 90-78 win over Elon Monday night.

I think his question is rhetorical, but I answered anyways. It’s a lot of fun.

Later, I got a text message from a high school friend. Lauren, is that you on the end of the table at the Davidson-Elon game? … Yeeees, what are you doing here?

I came with some friends. To watch Curry, came the response.

It’s weird, isn’t it, when worlds collide? Makes me think about how three years ago, I didn’t know Stephen Curry existed.

About how, being from Charlotte, I was familiar enough with Davidson’s basketball tradition to take the job. About how I heard, don’t expect much this year, we lost a ton of seniors and scoring... blah blah blah.

I didn’t really know Coach McKillop, but I heard him talking about this freshman, this Stephen Curry. And I heard about how unusual this was for him.

I remember first noticing Jason Richards, thinking this kid is pretty good. Not knowing that he was only just arriving, too.

And I will always remember when they arrived.

I can’t remember people not knowing about Stephen, but I remember that first season when the media requests started pouring in for “Steven Curry.” Sometimes, Steph-On. But never Steff-in. I can’t remember Stephen Curry, before he became a fixture in the SID office. I remember Stephen, DOBO Jeremy Henney and Will Bryan making a mask of Jason for PTI. Explaining who Charlie Rose is, and why he should make good choices about clothing for national television.

I remember, after Detroit, probably after the summer, discussing this blog. Someone said, you should do it without saying his name all season.

Maybe you did, maybe you didn’t notice, but I took the challenge.

There’s no way you can come up with 30 nicknames, he says, mocking me.

And yet, every week … What are you gonna use this time? He will inevitably ask.

I have no idea. I’m going to need you to do something funny or inspiring before you leave today. And he will try.

They weren’t all great, and The Cheese probably doesn’t care for the one that seems to have stuck, but this is the story as we have written it. His story.

It’s going to take something great, something extraordinary, to get your name mentioned, is his challenge.

I wanted 50 points, but Saturday, 30 needed 30 to become the all-time leading scorer in Davidson history. I think we can all agree that’s extraordinary.

You can’t script this stuff.

And while I made notes on all 30 points, the moment is what we’ll remember. Nearly turned over, Stephen saves it, and with a jumper in the paint, becomes the greatest in Davidson history.

The ensuring ovation leads me to believe you think he’s fun to watch, too.

Monday at Elon?

It was fun to watch the whole lot of Wildcats, wasn’t it? Going into the do-or-die Southern Conference tournament, I very much like looking at the final box score. I very much liked another impressive outing from SteVe Rossiter. The WL. (Yes, I did the claws from my faux seat on press row). WILL. Andrew.

It was fun.

What’s next?

Comments?

March 1, 2009

16point8.blogspot.com:

Stephen’s record-breaker I thought made for kind of an unexpectedly powerful moment. He had taken a three half a minute before that would’ve given him the record, and it was clearly consciously short-armed, but the two-point jumper that put him past Gerdy happened so quick and natural -- loose ball, dribble-dribble, from near the free throw line, absolutely in the flow of the game. And the instantaneousness and the oneness of the sound in that place at that point in time was … striking. There were 5,223 people there, and it felt like every one of them was standing, at once, all of a sudden, and clapping and cheering and hollering, and they stayed that way long enough for the experience to become actually quite moving.

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?

Feb. 26, 2009

Lauren on The View From Press Row:

No one on the corner has swagger like us. Again.

Collective exhale.

This is how Wildcat nation is feeling after the Davidson men’s team’s 70-49 win over UNC Greensboro Wednesday night at Belk Arena.

Around here, things have been just a little off lately. After the loss to the College of Charleston Feb. 7, we weren’t even sure how to run the post-game. You see, the winning team goes first. And well, suddenly, that was not the Wildcats.

I put down my thoughts after that loss, and then suddenly, it’s been four games since. Some of that is due to the fact, sure, that’s it’s easier for me not to write when it isn’t all roses and kittens around Belk Arena, but mostly it’s due to the fact that it’s officially baseball season at Wilson Field. (Four games this weekend if you need to get your fix.)

I really meant to write and share my thoughts after the four games in between Charleston and last night, but life happened.

I made the trip to Furman, but ended up writing the game story. And then there was that thing with the ankle heard round the world. Though I will tell you that my Valentine’s Day dinner at Chick-fil-A with SID Marc Gignac, Davidson play-by-play extraordinaire John Kilgo, and color guy Kenny Loggins was pretty special. (Complete with a cappella singers in tuxedos, free cheesecake and carnations.)

And what can I say about The Citadel game? If you are looking to read negative reviews, sorry, you just won’t find them here. That’s just not what I do. The players and coaches are friends and colleagues, and for all, I have deep respect. Except when I lose in darts. And anyways, that’s what the Internet is for.

And as I was glancing over the stats and making the post-game books Saturday after the Butler game, I was thinking about six losses. And how many teams in the country would love to have six losses. And how I could easily name the six, but not more than a handful of the 23 wins.

And last night … Last night just felt right. Felt familiar. Didn’t it?

The Joker ended up with 20 points, 10 rebounds and five assists in 26 minutes.

There were highlight-reel worthy dunks from Frank Ben-EASY (the people love some Frank Ben-EASY, eh?) and the Big Cat, fan favorites Can Civi (happy birthday from the D-Block … A-maz-ing.) and Will Reigel making steals and layups.

And that NASTY four-point play.

But mostly, there was a win.

And there was Swagger. Again.

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. 25, 2009

16point8.blogspot.com:

Frank is showing some stuff. It’s fun watching him come along. Liked that Max-led 10-second call. Nice, balanced, cool-headed game from Stephen. I’d rather have Will slash and miss than not slash at all. No sense losing sleep over missed jumpers. They’re either going to go in or they’re not. In any event, a week and a half away from the SCT, and 23 wins already and 16-2 in the league. That is not bad. That is good. The story continues.

Comments?

Feb. 23, 2009

William on DavidsonCats.com: Big Cat made one drive in particular that had a swiftness and elegance to it that made my day worth the trouble if that was the only thing I saw. I also enjoyed the casual way Will threw in some threes. Steph, for all his troubles, also made a couple of drives that were helpful reminders of his talent level.

(More) Feb. 21, 2009

16point8.blogspot.com:

There was a video this morning on the right side of the Weekend Watch on ESPN.com’s college basketball page. It is now curiously unavailable. I wish it was still there because I was going to say something about it.

I’ll say it anyway.

It was a phone interview with Stephen, no picture, and the guy from ESPN who was interviewing Stephen, I forget who it was, said something along the lines of how Stephen should hurry up and heal so he could play against Butler because that would make the “family” of networks happy.

I wish I could quote here but that was the gist.

It bothered the fuck out of me.

One of the things that most interests me about sports in America here in the early part of the 21st century is the space between game and show. The space between sports and entertainment. It’s getting smaller. It’s getting fuzzier.

Think MMA.

Boxing? No.

Made-for-TV cage fighting? Yes.

Think steroids in baseball.

All you hear about is how wrong it is, and how it’s shaming the game, and how baseball as we knew it is dead, and you see old-man sports columnists shaking their old heads and wagging their fat fingers, and you see A-Rod asking for forgiveness and pretending to cry, and you see his teammates standing there trying to be appropriately solemn about the whole charade.

Know what else you see?

Crowds.

Big crowds, big crowds that couldn’t get enough of the show, bigger crowds than ever before, at least until the economic slowdown. It was the economy that finally made some of the foam-finger-buying, hot-dog-inhaling, fantasy-baseball-playing people stop coming. Not the steroids. All the steroids did was make the show better.

The Super Bowl is a TV show. The NCAA tournament is a TV show. The Super Bowl I have no problem with. Those actors are getting paid. March Madness? Not so much. That’s the setup and there are too many dollars involved and there’s too much inertia by now for any of the people in positions of power to even think about changing it.

For Davidson, because of last March, obviously, and for the first time ever, that space between sports and entertainment -- it shrunk.

The games are shows.

If you’re the school, you understand that, and you take the good with the bad.

Having a man from a TV network tell a 20-year-old college junior to please get well soon essentially so more people would watch that network’s noon-to-2?

That’s part of the bad.

Maybe I’m just grumpy.

Maybe I tend to overthink these sorts of things.

Or maybe the video is no longer there because I wasn’t the only one who thought it was pretty fucked up.

Comments?

The Wisconsin poster

The others: Gonzaga, Georgetown, Kansas.

Feb. 21, 2009

16point8.blogspot.com:

Stayed down here in the Sunshine State for this one. Been busy. Been sick. Got a Charlotte mag piece due soon. So: watched it on the tube.

Stuff:

1. The last really good Davidson team that played better basketball in January than it did in February was maybe the ’95-’96 team. Or perhaps the ’04-’05 team. One of the trends within the Davidson basketball story over the last decade and a half or so has been consistent, constant in-season improvement, and it’s been a really cool trend. That doesn’t make it a rule.

2. Got a call at halftime. The caller said: “There’s a level of exhaustion to this year. I’m tired. And I’m not playing.”

3. Butler was the better team. The five-point margin at halftime wasn’t right. The game even at that point felt like what it was for most of the second half -- a 10- to 15-point kind of deal.

4. McKillop has talked, always, for as long as I’ve been following Davidson basketball, about the tissue-thin line between success and failure.

5. Things I liked about Butler: Those kids looked like college kids. They played defense. They won loose balls. They earned “slobber” points, one of the ESPN guys said, which I thought was a neat way of putting it. Back on the night this BracketBuster matchup was announced, on the radio after whatever game that was, McKillop, and then Bryant Barr, too, talked about how Butler was not only a great team but a great program. That distinction means a lot to McKillop, I think, because he knows well how hard it is to win this year, then the next year, then the year after that. My point here is: There’s no shame in losing to Butler. I’d much rather the team at my school lose to Butler than to any of the many outfits in the college game with gunslingers for coaches and knuckleheads for kids.

6. Another McKillopism: “Proud peacock today. Feather duster tomorrow.”

Comments?

The Gonzaga poster

Art by Alan Hyder.

(More) Feb. 20, 2009

Claire marking a year:

Feb. 20, 2008

We get the full front page of the sports section, with Steph dipping under the basket for a layup, almost grimacing.

16TH STRAIGHT WIN.

I read ravenously, all the way through. And the words at the end slam into me.

And that big upset that Davidson couldn’t quite pull off in November or December? It’s coming. Just wait until March.

No hesitation. For sure. Done deal.

I read it again. Again. And I can picture it in a half-fuzzy corner of my brain where the impossible pretends to be possible for a millisecond, where the truth comes true but not really. That place that’s existed since March 15, 2007 when I actually started to understand what we are trying to do here. The place that’s so close and yet as far as it’s ever been. The place that I don’t really believe will actually become reality, because it’s just… too big. Too many people want it. But still. That corner is there for a reason.

March.

One-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight-nine-ten.

Ten days.

Comments?

Feb. 20, 2009

Kruse on collegehoopsjournal.com:

These are my thoughts.

That’s all they are.

I think last year’s team had two guards who could play with anybody. I think this year’s team has one. I think this year’s team asks Stephen to do a TON. I don’t think there’s any way around that. I think Stephen does more for his team than any other player in America. And I thought that before this week’s Stephen-less Citadel loss. I think he’s carried an enormous burden this year. I think it’s remarkable that he’s performed the way he’s performed and that he hasn’t gotten more worn down than he has. I think last year’s team had a post player in Thomas Sander who did all kinds of things that were invisible to most folks watching but made all of his teammates so much better. I think that kind of player is as rare as a player like Stephen is rare. I think last year’s team was backed by a fan base that was filled with such genuine hope but not necessarily debilitating expectation. I think it created an authentic experience. I think it’s an experience Davidson people will be talking about for a long, long time.

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. 18, 2009

16point8.blogspot.com: What did we learn tonight? We learned something we already knew. Stephen Curry is REALLY important to the fortunes of the basketball team representing Davidson College. 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. 14, 2009

My journal:

… We still weren’t playing our best and we were only up by 5. 9 minutes left. And Stephen Curry drove to the basket. And he fell to the ground out of bounds, rolling over and over and covering his face with his hands.

No. Nonononononono NO.

This does not happen. Stephen Curry always gets up.

Everyone gasped and moaned and the effing camera just stayed on him, stayed on OUR BOY, with tears in his eyes from the pain. He was down for several minutes and they KEPT SHOWING THE FRICKING REPLAY OF HOW HE FELL IN SLOW MOTION OVER AND OVER!! Everyone had immediately pulled out their cell phones as they kept announcing “National POY candidate, leading scorer Steph Curry is injured—” (SHUT THE HELL UP, ANNOUNCERS!) and I just felt so scared and confused. Like the thing we’ve been dreading has finally happened—but NO, it can’t happen! And Dad was saying how he’d miss at least a week and AHHHHH —

I have to say, though with all my heart I do not want Steph missing ANY games, the boys stepped up BIG without him. We won by 15. And they kept showing Steph sitting on the bench and most of the time he looked very stoic but at one point he was actually smiling and laughing and David called out “That’s our boy!”

Comments?

Feb. 13, 2009

My journal:

One year ago today Davidson came back from 17 down to beat UNCG and Steph got his then-career high of 41 and Jason’s eye was bleeding and Lindsay and I plus the sixty? seventy? people who’d gathered around the tv (they didn’t use the 900 Room back then) jumped and whooped and screamed like we’d just won the national championship. I was on that high for at least 48 hours.

And yet we had no idea.

A good thing to remember.

Comments?

Feb. 8, 2009

Me after the Charleston loss:

A few thoughts:

*** It’s okay to rely heavily on the production of one of the best players in the country. It’s real nice to have him on your team. But you also have to be willing to accept the consequences when for whatever reason he’s not at his best.

*** This was the West Virginia game without the shots from No. 30 at the end.

*** Stephen in the second half last night looked as exhausted as I’ve seen him since the second half of the Kansas game. Maybe ever. He looked … haggard. His actions are usually markedly quick and crisp. Last night, in the second half, and it seemed to happen all of a sudden, they were more slow, more dull.

*** Antwaine Wiggins, by the way, had something to do with that. Kid’s rangy. Kid’s long. That’s not new. He’s given Stephen difficulties before. Remember last year’s game at Charleston? Check out the box score.

*** But the biggest play(s) of the game? Max’s second foul with 59 seconds to go in the first half. Max’s third foul with 38 seconds to go in the first half. That made his early foul in the second half, of course, his fourth foul, and that basically made him a non-factor the rest of the way. So what this game became in the last 20 minutes was in a sense Davidson’s worst-case scenario: The team played a second half not only without Stephen’s offense but without Max’s defense. With Max’s defense, and the stops that come with it, I’m thinking that 14-point lead becomes a 20-point lead and Charleston rolls over. No?

*** There’s no rule that says Davidson can’t lose a Southern Conference game. It’s okay.

*** Davidson has played 58 games league games the last three years and has won 56 of them. Not too bad.

Comments?

Feb. 7, 2009

Claire after the Charleston loss:

I have stuff to say.

I don’t know if I can say it though – or say it well at least.

I mean, it was always gonna happen. I just didn’t ever think that it would be today, this game.

I hate it.

Because of espn2, because of Vitale, because of the shirt (because you don’t lose a Blackout game!!), because of the streak, because Joe was here, because JRich was here, because we were louder than we’ve ever been, because we had it goddammit (forgive me Lord, the syllables just work well) and then we lost it.

Because it has been seven hundred and forty-seven days since I last walked out of that beloved building with that feeling in my stomach.

And so much has happened in those last seven hundred and forty-seven days to make me feel like this day just couldn’t come.

We clapped. We screamed our heads off – because even with 2.2 seconds we effing believe. Steph’s last shot was blocked. The buzzer sounded and we all let out this moan of anger and disbelief and just – no. No. It just doesn’t work like that, it just –

I felt kind of numb all over. We sat there for a minute. Pep band played the fight song again. I clapped. I stood outside those glass doors and waited, exchanged looks and eye rolls and much-needed hugs. Asked Joe how much he was gonna drink tonight (because if I was more of a drinker, I’d be getting hammered – and unfortunately that is going on right outside my door. Argh).

Walked to the Union. Andrew slapped my hand, saxophone slung over his shoulder, said “It’s always a great day to be a Wildcat.” David and I put our orders in, sat on the couch and didn’t say anything.

Hush now.

And as I sat there in the midst of the low murmurs I thought. I thought about the framed newspaper that hangs above the water fountain, two faces beaming with resurrection (little r) miracle. I thought about the yellowing article on the bulletin board by the printer, red jerseys sitting in wooden booths. I thought about all that I have heard and seen in the last two and a half years because of this team, the places I’ve been.

The people.

And … I don’t know, really. I’m not quite at a consensus yet.

I guess it has something to do with faith, hope, love, these three. Or skill. Or hard work. And a little bit of frustration. Nostalgia? Sure, throw that in there too (but not too much, move forward not back).

Whatever it is, it won’t let me give up on getting my seat back in that thunderous football stadium eleven hours up north.

Comments?

Feb. 6, 2009

Lefty's Legacy:

I awoke in a cold sweat last Monday night, not because I forgot to turn my heat down, or had just broken a fever, but because I realized that my current budget may not be capable of sustaining the barrage of expenses that March Davidson Basketball requires. My credit line needs to be able to pack enough punch to get me wherever I need to go, at an instant, should Davidson’s dance extend through multiple rounds of play.

Fearing the worst, I began packing lunches a week ago, forgoing my midday Baja Fresh burrito for a risky salmonella-tainted PB&J and a fruit-on-the-bottom yogurt (you can buy about 10 of these for $3 at the local Teet). Becoming increasingly desperate last weekend, I walked past my staple Sam Adams and Magic Hat in the beer aisle, and hastily grabbed a six-pack of vomit-flavored Rolling Rock, knowing that those $3 saved could be the difference between a fully-loaded sausage and a stale pretzel during halftime of Davidson’s Sweet Sixteen game.

I know that Davidson, and all dominant teams for that matter, maintains its success by adopting a game-by-game approach to the season, but with the Wildcats achieving win No. 20 last night against UNC Greensboro, I’d be foolish not to start prepping for the road that lies ahead.

After spending recklessly on a couple of draft brews after watching the Wildcats’ ugly romp in the Coliseum last night, I returned home determined to renew my focus, and forced myself to suffer through the recap of last season’s final loss to Kansas.

With the pain from that bitter defeat recalled, and my March fervor for Davidson reawakened, I e-mailed my long-lost partner Base Rich, asking:

man.

can we do it again?

seriously.

Expecting little in return to appease my now rabid obsession with avenging last year’s disappointment in Detroit, I arrived at work with a six-paragraph reply in my inbox. I’ll save the nitty gritty details for Base Rich’s next post, but his conclusion was apt: We can definitely do it again. We won’t if we shoot like we did last night.

Last night. The ugly: 38 percent from the field, 6-27 from three, 15-27 from the line, 13 turnovers. Can’t get much worse. Still won by 21 points. Last season, the Socon regular season yielded a total of eight 20+ point wins for Davidson. This season, six of our last seven Socon games have resulted in 20+ point victories. Still seven games to go. I like where this is headed.

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. 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?