…the agony of defeat

Northern Iowa erupts onto the Ford Center floor at approximately 7:45 EDT on Saturday night. The #1 overall seed of the 2010 NCAA Men’s Tournament has fallen. CBS cameramen follow the Panthers around the floor as they celebrate one of the most unexpected upsets in the last 10 years of the tournament. The feed cuts to redshirt senior Mario Little who has collapsed to his knees in front of the Kansas bench. A trainer delicately places a towel under his face. Little has one more year of eligibility. He didn’t play in any of the previous 35 games in which the Jayhawks amassed a 33-2 record, won the Big 12 regular season championship and tournament, and received the #1 overall seed. In fact, Mario is coming back next year, so he still has the chance to win a championship.

Yet somehow the picture of Mario overcome with emotion mirrored what I felt, shock and despondence. Even though he didn’t play a minute of this season, he’s much more a part of the team than I am as a fan. I did not attend a grueling boot camp in August. I did not get up in the wee hours of the morning to attend practice. I did not juggle a full schedule of academic work with practice, strength and conditioning training and travel. I cannot even compete on the court with them for reasons of talent let alone age. I did not have to face and address questions from the national media after the loss. But that does no’t stop my mind from whirling between anguish, anger and disbelief.

This had all the makings of an upset. A team with nothing to lose that hit key shots, played solid man-on-man defense and grabbed offensive rebounds to extend possessions and create more scoring opportunities. The Jayhawks struggled to get any rhythm on offense. Yet, the Jayhawks didn’t fold. Sherron, as Jayhawk fans have come to expect, dug deep and overcame a poor first 30 minutes fraught with turnovers and missed shots to lead the Jayhawks into a position where they still had a chance to win the game. Bill Self, as I’ve come to expect, can put this in perspective without denying the pain:

The reason it [the loss to Northern Iowa] is [the most painful loss of my career], is a credit to the players because you work your butt off for a long time. You operate under duress, you operate under pressures the whole year that a lot of teams don’t operate under because of where we were ranked and expectations. And to put ourselves in a position that we were in, they don’t come around every year.

You’ve got to make the most of those opportunities when you are granted them. That’s probably what stings the most. I don’t know if I’ll watch the tape. I know that there’s just one or two plays here or there that was the difference in the game, but this stings a lot.

http://www2.kusports.com/news/2010/mar/21/terrible/ (last accessed March 21, 2010).

Reason does not console Bill Self, his players or me. And is my habit when grieving over a confounding Jayhawk NCAA tournament loss (Bradley in 2006, Bucknell in 2005, Rhode Island in 1998, Arizona in 1997), I vented and reflected with my brother, this time via texts:

Me: The half circle must be added next year.

Bryce: Yep.

Me: I’m not sure why Tyrel, a coach’s son, left Farokhmanesh open.

Me: I can’t believe it.

Bryce: He misses that shot, it is the dumbest shot ever.

Me: Yep.

Me: At least that f***ed up everyone’s brackets

Bryce: Sure did.

Me: I’m still pissed about those two charging calls [at the end of the game]… both were BS.

Bryce: I agree.

Bryce: I had a bad feeling all day.

Me: You had a bad feeling last Sunday [when the Midwest bracket was announced].

Bryce: I guess. When the brackets came out I hated to see Northern Iowa.

Me: That officiating crew better not ref another game in the tourney.

Bryce: I do not know what to do with myself. Can’t understand why they didn’t pressure more.

Me: They did the last 7 minutes of the game. It had all the elements of an upset. Key 3 point shots, turnovers and free throws.

Me: I’m now considering it the Ford Arena curse.

Bryce: Yep. Don’t want to go back. I just hate to see it. They played both of the games not to lose, rather than to win. They looked so tight.

Me: I’d agree that was a problem early. Part of it ironically was poor guard play.

Bryce: Agree.

Me: Never crisp enough with the slipped pick pass. It was there many times. Not sure if UNI pressure contributed.

Bryce: Yes and they never ran the ball screen right after half court. That really works when they run it.

Bryce: Self is a great coach. I do not question him.

Me: Me neither. The players have to execute. I didn’t expect this after last weekend [Big 12 Tournament] and how he’s tried to keep it light at times this year.

Bryce: I always remind myself that they are just kids.

And there it is. The big revelation about why I prefer the NCAA over the NBA. The NCAA tournament and it’s single elimination format provide the perfect setting for an on-the-court drama that often poetically reflects the pain and awakening that accompanies the natural emotional growth of teenagers molting into adults. The student-athlete tag promoted by the NCAA is a misnomer, and in many ways these kids are more like semi-pros than student-athletes. However, they are still kids in many ways playing a game they love with nothing but the reward of playing another game. Passionate, imperfect human beings motivated by something other than money.

You don’t find this intensity in the NBA except for the last 4-8 minutes of a rare regular season game or in a deciding Game 7. Heck, it’s costing the NBA money (see this Bill Simmons post). It is because many of these “student-athletes” will “go professional in something other than sports” that makes college basketball so compelling. It’s real and imperfect, just like life. As a fan, you get to watch players grow within a season and over the course of their career. It’s what makes Al McGuire’s quote that “the best thing about freshmen is that they become sophomores” resonate with both coaches and fans. It’s why I spend hours watching college basketball each winter. The same team that is outplayed in December and outmatched on paper in March can still win.

I find it hard to watch the tournament today after the loss, but I’ll be back. It is “the thrill of victory and agony of defeat” that is what draws us all to sports.

Epilogue

There is a personal element to these emotions that must be noted. Most sports fans, including myself, unnaturally hitch part of their personal identity to their sports team. The tribal aspects of sports fandoms continue to persist despite the evolution and widening of individual identity from tribe to global citizen over the last 200 years. Sports nations have also been impacted by the globalism of the information age. Their populations are no longer confined to contiguous geographic areas (Is Red Sox Nation confined to New England? No.). However these sports nations, just like the socio-political groups for which they are named (e.g. Kurdish Nation, Jewish Nation, etc.), have a diaspora (although it is not due to political or religious persecution). I grew up a Jayhawk fan and lived in Kansas my whole child life. My passion for the Jayhawks has increased over the last 20 years that I’ve lived outside of Kansas. To paraphrase what a former Kansas native once theorized in a Wall Street Journal editorial, the reason I probably follow Kansas rabidly is that it is my last connection to my homeland. I’m not sure how it factors into the agony equation, but it is an important part of it. If you have a hard time relating to this, read Rammer Jammer Yellow Hammer by Warren St. John.

Tagged as: basketball, identity, ku