Our sporting landscape currently has a dryness of Death Valley-like proportions. We can thank Jose Canseco for injecting ... oooh, maybe we can put that word to rest ... nay, invigorating our daily debates with a dash of controversy. But arguments and anecdotes are where the action begins and ends on that topic.
I want jumpshots, pick and rolls, Cameron Crazies (or Duke Dweebs if you ask me). And my wish has been granted, more than in any year I can remember since Kevin Garnett picked groupies over coeds and made the jump to the NBA.
This winter, we have not been afforded the luxury of watching Dmitri Couldyoupleasegetov score game winners to propel the Columbus Blue Jackets over the Nashville Predators, as Barry Melrose hones both his hair and his "What are you talking aboot?" accent between periods. College basketball has been our saving grace.
Maybe the sport always has held that distinction on this campus, where a list of NHL fans can just about be narrowed down to the Jumbos hockey roster. But this season, especially, has been one chock full o' personalities and games you don't need to have a bet on to enjoy. Most importantly, we are familiar with the product and the players we are watching this year.
Think of for how many recent Marchs you have taken a gander at the NCAA Tourney field and said "Hey, look at that, Auburn is a number one seed. I didn't even know they had a basketball team." So you blindly filled in the bracket, basing most of your picks on hearsay or a game you may have seen a team play in the Alaskan Shootout in November. Maybe you picked Marquette to go to the Final Four to be bold, and it worked, and your five bucks was well spent. But more likely, you and many others turned out to be emperors walking down the street with no clothes on. You thought you knew what you were doing, but you really had no idea.
Fast forward in your mind to mid-March '05. It's the day after Selection Sunday, and in your right hand is a freshly Xeroxed copy of the NCAA Tournament bracket. I haven't felt this Visions of UNC's Sean May getting a rebound, out letting a pass to Raymond Felton, who threads an alley-oop to Rashad McCants from half court. Dee Brown and Gerry McNamara, running the fast break as if their pants were on fire. Even watching J.J. Redick, who draws unprecedented levels of ire and jealousy, forces me to question whether I ever have seen anything as beautiful as his shooting stroke (besides a new pack of Sour Skittles, of course).
Why do these names roll through your brain, and then off the tongue? How can we identify all these juniors with one school, one mascot, one color? One reason is they all have taken the path less chosen, the one whose riches are not measured in dollars and cents but rather in AP polls and crowd reactions. (Speaking of crowd reaction, BC's Conte Forum denizens better start inching towards "Gahhhden Level" if they hope to rattle ACC visitors next year. Those southern gyms get downright loony, while the Eagles backers have a hard time even getting "Wicked Loud.")
Knowing the product is always a large aspect of enjoyment for us, and this season is evidence of that. True, there was, as in most years recently, a mass exodus of underclassmen and high schoolers to the draft. Of the first seven picks, five were early entrants and two were high schoolers. Only four college graduates were taken in the first round. So how have the teams and players we've seen on the college level been so recognizable without the likes of Luol Deng, Emeka Okafor and Ben Gordon?
The answer is simple - depth. There has been so much to choose from. There could have been more players who jetted to the league to toil in .500-ville. Illinois' Brown, a rich man's T.J. Ford in my eyes, chose to stay, as did standout teammate and fellow junior Deron Williams. A wise choice, because a team that would have fizzled out and had to rebuild again now is undefeated and gaining notoriety.
A Carmelo Anthony occurrence where a freshman comes in and immediately leads his team to a title is rare. But even more rare is a nucleus, like Illinois' or UNC's, that stays together long enough to form something more than just an AAU All-Star team that barely registers as a blip on the historical radar screen.
The Fab Five, Phi Slamma Jamma, the Duke and UNLV teams of the early '90's. Not one-year wonders, any of them, although the first two fell short of titles. They built a base, and then added stories to their legacy with each season. But for every one of them, there are other teams that you wonder what could have been had they stayed together for just one last run.
UNC of the '90's comes to mind. In 1993, they won the title with - get this - Eric Freakin' Montross leading the way. The teams after that consisted of one group with Jerry Stackhouse and Rasheed Wallace and another with Antawn Jamison and Vince Carter. And all four could have played together! But alas, all bolted early, without that one final chance to take the prize that ... gulp ... Montross got.
This year, there seems to be 80 tournament-worthy teams. And we know what we're getting - players who have proven themselves before. Chris Paul, Jarret Jack, Keith Langford. The pre-conference tournament buzz is at epic levels, and that is all a fan can ask for in a month devoid of many other thrills.
Then again, most of you guys don't have ESPN, do you? Alright, in that case, this season hasn't been anything special.
