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 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.

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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…

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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.

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