Showing posts with label thomas sander. Show all posts
Showing posts with label thomas sander. Show all posts

4.08.2010

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?

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3.17.2010

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.

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2.01.2010

Jan. 14, 2009: Back home

Me:
Games are so much fun. I feel old at them now, being a junior and all, with only one class above me. It’s so strange that the freshmen never knew Jason or Thomas or Boris. And they didn’t know Steph when he wasn’t famous. I love standing with my group that has re-worked and re-formed itself, always a bit fluid even (especially?) three years on.

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12.03.2009

More from March 24, 2008

Stan Brown on DavidsonCats.com:

Our players are great kids. I know that isn’t news, but I thought I’d share this story.

When I decided to try to get tickets for Raleigh on line, I asked my kids if they wanted to go. About a 400-mile drive, watch game, drive back. We’d done Duke (270) and Chattanooga (100 and midnight when we got home) and the Furman game at Davidson (255) as day trips this year.

Older son, Madison (14), had just gotten back from a school bus trip to NYC. He had no interest in any more miles for a while. No. 2 son was in. Wife insisted that we get a hotel room and drive over Thursday evening rather than leave in the middle of the night.

As we were saying our goodbyes on Thursday, No. 1 son says “Hey, Dad, tell Thomas Sander I said hi.” I asked him if he thought Thomas would know who he was. “Sure, I’m the kid in the Davidson shirt who always wore the Tennessee Vol hat. He’ll know me.”

Hmmmmmmmmm.

We had waited in the lobby after the Duke game, so my boys could see the players and No. 2 son could get some autographs. Thomas was one of the first players to come out. After he had spoken to his folks, we approached him. He was so nice to my sons. They really liked him. They couldn’t believe how tall he is. He thanked us for coming to support the team. Class kid. We chatted briefly about his AAU teammate from Cincy, UT player Ryan Childress, who was William's camp counselor last summer (who’d said to say hi to Sander when we went to see Davidson play).

After the game at Chattanooga, we waited down on the floor for the players to come out after showering and changing. A couple players came back to the bench area on the floor, but not many. I realized that most of the guys didn’t have any family to check with and had likely headed straight for the bus from the locker room.

We hustled out through the tunnel and found the bus almost full. Coach McKillop was still standing outside it. We approached him and I asked if he would autograph William’s shirt. He did and asked if William had Steph’s. No? He asked one of the managers to check and see if Steph was already on the bus. He was. Why don’t you go in the bus and get Steph’s? William was a little nervous, but big brother encouraged him and said he’d go with him. The boys spent a few minutes in the back of the bus talking with the players and getting some autographs on William's shirt (I was bending poor Matt Matheny’s ear up front).

When we got in the car, it was a series of “Andrew Lovedale is really nice.” “Is Ben Allison a good player? I talked with him, where is he from? He’s nice. He sounds different.” “Steph Curry is nice.” And on and on.

As we were driving home, Madison asked why we haven’t taken a road trip to a game at Davidson. So we did the Furman game. Afterward, we saw Aaron Bond near the cafeteria and had a nice chat. We stopped by the Brick House. Some of the players were there, including Sander. We spoke to him briefly. I bent poor Matt’s ear some more and we left for home.

And based on that limited experience, my elder son was sure that Thomas would remember him (and that he was my son).

I tried to explain to him that an NCAA tourney game might be a little different from a SoCon game. With press interviews and another game following, we wouldn't be hanging out around the court waiting for the players to come out from the locker room. And even if we were able to see him and as nice as Thomas was to him, we really shouldn't expect him to remember all the kids who ask him for autographs or shake his hand.

Madison just shrugged. Thomas was a great person and very nice. He’d remember the tall 14-year-old with the UT hat. He was sure of it.

William and I didn’t see any of the players on our Raleigh excursion Friday. But I was struck by the fact that our players in general, and Thomas specifically, had made such an impression on my boys that they felt like the Davidson players were their friends.

The guys in red and black are special people.

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11.28.2009

March 24, 2008

Landry Kosmalski on DavidsonCats:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Aftermath

Me in an email -- to myself.
Subject: just breathe.

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

WE DID IT.

WE BEAT GEORGETOWN.

HOLY SHIT.

WE WERE DOWN 17 IN THE FREAKIN SECOND HALF.

AND SOMEHOW, WE DID IT.

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

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

Anna: Oh. My. God.

Rachel: Ahhh! Go cats!!

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

Joe: oh my god

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

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

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

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

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11.26.2009

March 22, 2008

Adam Stockstill on Cats.com:

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


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11.17.2009

Feb. 27, 2008

From one of my many notebooks filled with words:

God, I can't believe it went so fast! WOW. WOW. Now -- #27 in the country, longest winning streak in the country, #4 shooter in the country, #1 leader in assists... 22-6. 18-0 since January 3. And so much joy. I want so badly to be able to write beautifully about the bond that this team and these people make me feel but it's so hard... I can't explain that it's the whole thing -- especially tonight, with Boris's mom here and we screamed "THANK YOU SENIORS!" and I stood with my '08 friends for the last time in this section. As Steph ran the point for the last 20 seconds and we rose to honor those 3 young men that I don't know and yet I do.

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11.12.2009

Feb. 13, 2008 Part III

Will Bryan:
The stars were aligned for Davidson to lose tonight. Greensboro had been underperforming... Davidson had been blowing people out... Sander was on the bench. The Spartans scorched the nets shooting 9-12 from three in the first half. Their intensity and home crowd helped ignite a first half blitz that found Greensboro sitting right below their average offensive output of the last week: at halftime. But Davidson won by five. Their defiance of the basketball gods tonight was extraordinary to say the least.

The heart of this team literally came spilling out on the court tonight. Richards' eyebrow was split open in an ugly way, bleeding all over everything... yet he came back to make the game-winning drive and free throw. Max Paulhus Gosselin recovered from endless "air ball" jeering to make the game-saving steal leading to Richards' drive. Andrew Lovedale overcame foul trouble to bring down the rebound with a scream after Greensboro's late attempt to tie the game. Thomas Sander did not let his sidelining keep him from supporting the team... he was the first one on the court at every timeout and was never quiet on the sidelines even when the Wildcats trailed big. And then, of course, there was Stephen Curry.

Davidson's attitude in the second half was definitely one of a team finally kicking it into overdrive. The several hundred fans in attendance got into a shouting match with Spartan supporters while Davidson was not unwilling to show a ton of emotion on the court. This was probably the first time I have seen Davidson win a game and have the team run out to celebrate in a very long time. It felt like a game one more time.

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Feb. 13, 2008 Part II

Lauren Biggers on The View From Press Row:
Making their way from the Davidson locker room to the post-game interview in the Fleming Gym media room, Stephen (Are you not entertained?) Curry and MAX Paulhus Gosselin look simultaneously exhausted and exhilarated.

As many words as I will write, SteF-in sums up Davidson's down-to-the-wire 83-78 thriller in one. "WOW," he sighs more than says.

Call me a pessimist, but when the Spartans took a 9-0 lead behind the dominant play of current SoCon Player of the Year Kyle Hines, I wasn't exactly feeling the "wow" factor.

Watching the players and coaches on the bench... they too looked, well, uneasy. For most of the first half, the Davidson contingent, fat and happy (?) and accustomed of late to kicking back and watching, could only sit quietly, nervously, and watch as the UNCG students more than earned their middle block of seats and the pep band played the SportsCenter theme song for what seemed the 10 millionth time.

"We were a little down," Curry said of the locker room mood at halftime. "Coach told us to find a way to win. To chip away little by little."

"To play defense. To stop them from shooting threes in our face. To keep our heads cool," MAX says of the coaching staff's halftime advice. "Chip away, chip away until we get in a position to win. Which we did."

"It wasn't really that bad," Thomas Sander, relegated to street clothes on this evening, said of the team's half-time mentality. "We weren't really down. We made some adjustments. We have a mature team. I feel like we all knew that we were gonna come back."

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11.11.2009

After the win in Belk over UTC

Me on Will Bryan’s old blog:

McKillop’s teams, when they’re right, they play with such a level-headed fury.

Jason did his thing, all angles, intellect and body control.

Max was Max. That kid, and I don’t know that I fully understood this before, at least not to such an extent, but sitting press row at Belk for the whole game for the first time in years and years made me appreciate his play more than ever. He plays, defense in particular, with an utter ferocity. You can practically hear his exertion.

Steph was awesome, of course, he of the light that’s as green as green can be. You always know he’s going good, though, when you notice, just as much as the threes, the floaters, the runners, the pull-ups, the crafty little dribble drives that turn into layups that lead to him piling up all those twos like he does all those threes.

No wonder middle-aged men in the stands at Belk wear those No. 30 jerseys. The part of me that’s a sensible adult thinks that’s kind of ridiculous, but I’ve got to be honest here: The proud, almost primal part of me kind of digs the hell out of it.

Steph aside, though, the tenor of Saturday’s game was established just as much by the whole team’s sticky fingers and active hands. Thomas Sander had SIX steals. All of it was a 40-minute reminder that being in the right place at the right time doesn’t have to be an accident, and shouldn’t be.

After the game, in the little press get-together, Thomas said this succinct thing about Steph: “Seeing him feel like he can do anything makes us feel like we can do anything.”

Steph, asked about his 37 points, said this: “We played our best game of the year.”

The kid said we.

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11.01.2009

Nov. 14, 2007

Claire:

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

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