For the entire story in one file, please go here: https://gumroad.com/l/bVSqud
The Road Less Traveled
April 2nd
Indianapolis, IN
Among the teams still here, we clearly don’t have the biggest fanbase. The Hoosiers deserve their home-court advantage, but I feel we deserve some as well, being just one state over. It has taught me about the encompassing meaning of the word Cinderella. Even after all of the success we have experienced in the past decade, regardless of how our peers may see us, the fanbase does express a truth that we as the Leatherneck basketball program cannot change. No matter how much success we are going to have, it is unlikely to change the fact that the university we represent is small and will continue to be so. We would never be able to play home games in a place like the RCA Dome. And the big boys of this world will never want to play in Western Hall. Some truths are inevitable.
UCLA, Florida, and Indiana maybe at one point had been considered cinderellas, too. That was a time well before mine. They had done enough to define themselves. Here in the Hoosier State, no one has done more sports-wise than Bobby Knight. He became a legend after taking his team to that perfect season in 1974, the last one to do it, although many have come close since then. Both the ’90 Larry Johnson Running Rebels and the 2018 Lubos Hatten Leathernecks lost their first game of the year in the Final Four. Still, isn’t over forty years long enough to celebrate someone? It isn’t as if he was even the first to do it. John Wooden did it several times before him. Again, all of these old records came before the tournament was expanded to sixty-four games. How much longer were we planning on revering these people? How long are we really supposed to hold a torch for a person after they can no longer hold it for themselves?
Then again, I can be guilty of doing the same thing, too. I wanted the players back and in their hotel rooms early again because tomorrow’s game is against UCLA, the most storied program in all of college basketball. No school has won more championships. No coach has come even close to accomplishing what John Wooden and his teams have been able to do. However, we weren’t playing Wooden or Walton. What then am I scared of? All of the accolades the Bruins have accomplished happened before I was even born. Am I scared of their legacy, or am I scared of them? I’ve always paid no heed to legacy before.
It’s true that this is no longer John Wooden’s UCLA team, but the Bruins still have a great coach in Ben Howland. In the aughts, he had taken them to three consecutive Final Fours and a national championship appearance, recruited and developed some great players who had gone to the pros. Ryan Hollins, Jordan Farmar, Aron Afflalo, Luc Richard Mbah a Moute, Darren Collison, Russell Westbrook, Kevin Love, etc… I could go on, but what is the point? He knew his basketball, and his players will follow him to the ends of the Earth. This is not legacy that I’m scared of. Ben Howland has proven himself. He had won it all the year Bud Richards graduated. With all the California kids he has on his team, he can do it again. You could even call him Ben California.
I’m not trying to psyche myself out of a national championship bid. Before every match, I take a good look at everything I can, try to see what I am facing as well as I possibly can, and then try to envision a path forward where we are victorious. We had a better overall record than them, currently at 33-2, but how they finished at 24-7, and 15-3 through the Pac-10 is not something that can be overlooked. It’s hard to win that many games when you have the best RPI in all of college basketball. They were also No.1 there, too. Just for comparison, we have an RPI of 66.
The one place where we have a clear advantage again is our size. It will mark the fifth game where Trevor is the biggest player on the court. It’s certainly harder to get taller than 7’1”, but there is no escaping the fact that teams have played smaller to keep the floor spread. As large as Trevor is, he is a light giant, nimble on his feet. Trevor is 250 odd pounds, and can play out on the perimeter. But if UCLA gets hot first, I’d have to take him out for Raymond, who is better defending off the block. I’d lose a bit of offense, but we’ve been scoring in bunches with the rest of the starters, and it has been our defense really boosting point totals. Our defense has led to several fast-break points. UCLA averaged over 8 steals a game, better than our 7.7, so that could be a problem. Basically, we have to control the ball well on offense and take it away to win. It should be a piece of cake. Too bad I don’t eat cake.
It doesn’t seem like a winning strategy, but it’s a start. The Bruins are a deeper team than we are, so getting them into foul trouble won’t have the impact it would against other teams. Senior 6’6” shooting guard Braxton Loughton is just one of their four talented off-guards. Their point guard, Cliff Knight, is a sophomore, but taller than Billy at 6’6”. If we are going to see five shooting guards on the floor, than I am going to make sure the ball goes straight into Trevor or Raymond.
No matter what I and the other coaches think up, there is no magic strategy that would lead to a path to victory. If UCLA’s size is really a weakness, then nobody up till now has been able to exploit it. I’d be lying if I thought Trevor would have a monster game against them. We play better when he is aggressive, but we can’t play through him and expect it to lead to positive results. Doing so would mean Ime, Bert, and Billy are touching the ball less, and they have been the driving force for us, especially Ime. We are going to have to grind, something we have done in the big games.
If there is one thing that is going to be the key to the game, it would be which team will make more plays on defense. Reggie Miller was from UCLA, and both of the greatest shooting guards that have ever defended him found it difficult to keep him shut out. MJ and Kobe wore themselves out running around screens and fighting off picks just to get their hands in his face, only to see him knock down shot after shot. Thankfully, he wasn’t coming through the doors of the RCA Dome. They had other shooting guards to go out there for him. I haven’t watched enough UCLA games this year, but I’d find it hard to believe that they had a better core of defenders than Najeeb Goode, Bert Draughan, and Ime Terrell. I’d have to have a chat with Najeeb about what to do on defense, get his thoughts. He might have to switch out and defend the perimeter. He is the only defender I have that can truly go up against all five positions. It wouldn’t surprise me if he ends up making a game-saving play.
April 3rd
Indianapolis, IN
I had planned to say absolutely nothing outrageous at the press conference. Thinking about the Bruins so much this past week hasn’t exactly filled me with confidence, and trying to avoid saying something to give UCLA any extra motivation didn’t seem to be a good idea. I have always been very straightforward with the media, so I can’t understand why they keep trying to give me chances to piss off the other team. A younger me would have fallen for their traps. Apparently, an older me can as well.
To the standard line of questions, I have learned to answer them in the most neutral ways possible, and with a military-like discipline. By doing so, coaches can get out of the pressers faster. Journalists don’t much like boring answers. What is the biggest challenge that UCLA represents? “You mean other than being the No.1 seed overall in the bracket? That has really been challenging enough.” Do you personally feel more motivated against larger, more storied schools? “I’m motivated against all the schools, and I can’t think of any school without a good story.” Which players will you be focusing your attention on the most? “The ones wearing Western Illinois jerseys. But I’ll do my best against all the other guys on the floor as well.”
Your past players have said that you don’t pray before games. Do you guys meditate together instead, the way Phil Jackson had previously done with his championship teams? “I think Coach Jackson did that more with his Bulls than his Lakers, but I can’t be too sure.” Is that an attack on the people of California? “Considering I’m from California, and that I’m sometimes called Ricky California by the rest of the coaches in the Illinois schools, I doubt if anyone would be taking that as an attack on California, anyone serious, that is.” Is that an attack on Buddhism then? “I think there have been enough attacks on religion by people other than me. It seems to me you’re in the wrong place if that’s what you’re after. Try the White House. Or Mar-A-Lago.” What exactly do you do to prepare yourself for such a big game? “Probably the same thing that the other three coaches are doing, and every coach that entered this tournament has done: go to bed early, get up as fully rested as possible, eat a big breakfast, and somewhere along the way, try to watch as much film as there is out there.”
Who is John Bautista Vino? “Giambattista Vico? He is a philosopher from the 18th century.” Could you tell us exactly what he believes in? “I guess you could say stress management. The best way to answer that is if you guys read him yourselves. His books are still available, and most likely at several of your libraries. I found him at Malpass, Western Illinois University’s central library.” Is it true that you make your players read him? “Not at all. I think it was a former player that had mentioned him to me, actually. My players are all well-read, and they could read him, if they choose to, but I don’t force anything on them.” You’ve said before that you don’t follow meditation because it empties the mind, and doesn’t fill it with anything during that time. Don’t you think that is to prepare you to allow something like a higher power in, to accept its wisdom? “It seems we’ve completely moved away from basketball now. I have said that, and I think the higher-ups have more important things to do than help out a coach in the Final Four. I have enough trouble trying to curry favor with the basketball gods as is. I doubt if whoever it is other than me would enjoy you guys quite as much as I do.” Have you ever felt as if you’ve been moved by that higher power, as if something else is in control, even for a second? “I think everyone alive would like to believe that is possible. As far as being in control, I don’t think there is a coach who feels he is ever in control. The men on the court are in control. That is the beauty of this game. I’m just a spectator with the best seat in the house.” Last question, Coach. Is there any truth to you speaking to an organization about taking over the Seattle Supersonics? “The last news I am aware of that has truly happened is that they had been sold to Clay Bennett, a southern businessman, who then moved the team to Oklahoma. Both cities are fantastic, and they have reputations of their own. My reputation is at WIU, in Macomb. That’s a long way from Seattle.”
It was by far the strangest pre-game interview I’ve ever done. And it wasn’t as if it didn’t leave its mark. It made me think back to that night when Giovanni Nelke had brought an XBOX 360 over to the house. The weather had been terrible, and the whole team had stayed over, creating bonds that had helped us throughout not only that season, but throughout our whole careers I felt. When they started playing as the game’s Leatherneck team, and actually beat out the computer to capture the title, looking back now it feels as if that was the moment they had turned the possibility into reality. It first has to be imagined before it can be brought into the world. Before any goal is realized, it needs a certain pathway to follow. That is true for anything, not just sports teams and athletic tournaments.
What if just playing it on that video game had prepared it for the reality itself, had prepared them to accept the real moment when it happened? Sure you could play a video game alone and win a championship in the game, but you were only controlling one thing. Something else was in control of the other four players. Playing it together as a team made it more than just a lonely video game with extraordinary results. Suddenly, there is a certain communication that has to take place among the five with the controllers. Seeing what happens in the game, the screens and picks and movements, how is that not a simulation of reality? How is that any different than what we do with them in practice? They aren’t using their bodies, but their minds are certainly active. The mind controls the body, and the body goes wherever the mind asks it to. Practice is a way to develop expectation, a way to enhance anticipation, a way to harness the power of imagination. College Hoops 2K8 could have done the same thing. So what had happened that night during Snowmageddon? Was it all real? Was it all a simulation? Has this whole thing been a simulation? Could I also be simulated? Could the success I have had have also been simulated as well? Am I being controlled by something else? If so, who? If so, for what?
It could explain our long winning streak against the Summit. Did we play every one of those games? Did I coach in all of them? There is a lot to learn from just one blow out. It demoralizes a coach. What coach would not work his ass off not to be demoralized like that again? But it is possible too, isn’t it? How else to explain the Lady Huskies of UConn and their unbelievable winning streak? Going beyond Geno Aurlemma, what about John Wooden? Could that have also been something simulated by someone? If so, then who? Everyone is giving their glory to God, and they deserve to if he is playing a basketball simulation of their careers. What does that say about what any of us are doing then?
It made me think of my own offensive system. Where did the inspiration for the Quadrangle Offense come from? I had thought it was my own product after speaking to coaches I had a lot of respect for. Had I really spoken to them? Had that too been simulated? What then is the difference between something simulated and something imagined? What then is the difference between imagination and reality? If the imagination is strong enough, can it not create reality?
Most people will say such a thing is impossible. How then do they explain the internet? Google? The iPhone? What about Amazon? Books don’t even need paper to be made and distributed any longer. First comes something imagined, and as it is brought forth into the world, it fails, just as a child trying to dribble or shoot a basketball. The more tinkering that occurs, the better the product becomes. Eventually, with luck and a lot of perseverance, what had been imagined may be realized. Edison had found 10,000 ways to make a lightbulb that didn’t work before he got the one he had imagined. Is one man trying to accomplish something ten-thousand and one times much different than five-thousand men trying to accomplish something twice? If they found success, it seems they should all be lauded. Whether what is realized is extoled by one or extoled by many does not make it any less real, whether it is God or another interdimensional being in love with basketball. If it is accepted by a community of people as a symbol of what it really is, does that not make both of them real at the same time? Who said that the Western Illinois University that I and Giovanni Nelke belong to is not as real as another?
And in the end, as this world and this time come crashing down, unable to fend off the power of the voice of God, the next cycle will begin with another way to see things, another way to define itself. And it will prove to be finer than the last. And others will want to join into it as well. I could only be a hero to the age I belong in. Whether that age is now or the future, real or imagined, it is still mine.
April 4th
RCA Dome
No matter what my thoughts were the other night, no one could take being in another final four away from me, or the responsibilities involved with it. Recapping everything the team has been through to get to this point is somewhat difficult, since we had taken apart the last two opponents so readily. Somehow, I needed to remind them that we didn’t get here because it was so easy, but because we had found a way to win. Our first weekend was no walk in the park. We were even behind after the first half of play, and we didn’t secure the game until the last five minutes. The same could be said about Gonzaga, who was ahead of us until a last second shot by Ime gave us the lead. None of that had been very long ago. It had only been two weeks.
I had been inspired by my man from Porlock, and I wanted to do the same before we all had to go home. “Before we go out there, let’s give yourselves a hand for getting this far. You are the West Regional Champs of the 2020 NCAA season. Some of you were here in 2018, and were still undefeated up to this point. Things didn’t stay that way for very long. Bert, captain, what do you remember from that year, from that game?”
“It was a back and forth game early on, and then they went on a run,” Bert replied. “We spent so much energy just trying to climb back in it, but we never got in it again. It was over like that.”
“It’s over, just like that,” I repeated. “That’s what this game can be like. And when it’s over, the whirlwind around you ends. It’s like only the die-hards will remember who you are. You’ve all played video games. I think the last one they made for college basketball had been College Hoops 2K8. When the season’s over, all the players you used vanish from the game, minus a record or two, but who really cares? There’s not another player in the world who knew any of them. And that is almost the same thing that roughly happens in the real world as well. George Mason never got back. Neither did VCU and Shaka Smart. Butler, after two failed trips, lost the most important part of their championship run, Brad Stevens, and hasn’t returned to glory since. This is the aftermath. And you are the sacrificial lamb.
“Or it could not be over. Getting behind is not the end of the world. It’s not something this team has experienced too much. The two games where we got behind significantly, we had been unable to regain our composure. Even if you get behind, you have got to realize that there is still time on the clock. What’s the worst that could happen? They outscore us by twenty points in the first quarto? The Sacramento Kings did the same to the Los Angeles Lakers in Game 4 of the Western Conference Finals in 2002, and when the buzzer ended, the Lakers had pulled out the win. Things like that happen in the course of a game. The basketball gods watch how you respond to adversity, how you battle to get back in it, and you can be rewarded by a generous bounce here and there. The important thing is to keep in it, and fight for your lives. If we get behind, and you don’t see a tomorrow, then there will not be a tomorrow. If you play hard, you offer us a slimmer of hope. That slimmer can act like a light at the end of the tunnel, and we just have to keep working at getting to the other side.”
“Coach,” Diondre spoke up as I took a breath. “Why are you talking like we’re going to be on the short end of the stick when we haven’t even played a minute yet? The last two games, we pushed the pace, we grabbed the lead and I don’t want to make a joke of it, but the rest was history.”
“And it brought us to this point,” I responded. “And it might keep working. And it might be the reason we stop here, too. In the Final Four, everyone is well-studied on whoever steps on that floor. And what will bring us to the next point may not be what we have done, but what we need to do. We may resort to a few plays we have used this season. We may have to start attacking unconventionally. We may have to figure it out on the fly. It’s going to take imagination. Imagination and creativity can get us to the next level if and only if we can keep a certain amount of control. That control has to be with our defense. Communicate. Rotate. Elevate.
“I say all this because I do believe in you,” I reminded them. “I say all this because I think you can handle it, you can process it, and you can learn to overcome whatever may happen. Unlike Memphis and Kansas, this is the No.1 overall team in the tournament. For now.”
I did something in that locker room I hadn’t done all year. I took out a permanent marker and drew an arrow on the back of my hand, facing away from me. “If you’re wearing a wrist-band, draw something similar. Or Draw it somewhere that you can easily see it. This represents forward, and that is the only thing I want you to think about, regardless of what direction this game ends up going when the ball gets tossed into the air. If we’re up or if we’re down, there’s only one way to go.”
After everyone had done as I instructed, we got together in our huddle as we customarily did before heading out of the locker room, and before Coach Garik could say what he usually said, I jumped in at the last moment. It was my privilege to do so. “Forward on three. One, Two, Three, FORWARD!”
We knew that the winner of this game was going to be facing Billy Donovan and the Florida Gators. My first trip to the Big Dance had been against the Gators, who destroyed me by forty points, 67-107. But the most recent victory belonged to me, and they weren’t going to forget how I had held on for dear life to that victory in the 2018 Elite Eight. A win is a win, regardless of the score. Apparently, I’d be favored if I got to meet them this year as well. I had overheard the radio personalities say that this was the real championship game, that the winner of this match would most likely end up winning it all. The optimism is hardly useful, considering I had a heck of an obstacle in my way to Monday’s game.
UCLA had been starting games just as hot as we had throughout the tournament. Smaller teams will tend to run the ball up and down, gaining additional possessions than a team with a more traditional offense is used to. Recently, Ben Howland has been less reliant on the 1-4 high post he had used in the past to lead the Bruins into deep tournament runs. Probably not having the same size he had before is the reason for the change. Then again, he had a seven-foot power footer on the court.
That was 7’0” 250 lbs senior center Elliah Richardson. He isn’t the only size the Bruins ended up starting, either. Their point guard, sophomore Cliff Knight is two inches taller than Billy at 6’6. It would be a battle of the no.2 jerseys at the one spot. Senior shooting guard Braxton Loughton is also 6’6” and two inches taller than Ime. Junior small forward Raynardo Hooper, one of the coolest names for a basketball player, was looking Bert straight in the eyes. And in my opinion, the most meaningful battle of the night, senior power forward Terry Clemmons matched Najeeb in roughly every important metric. That meant their best player, Shuan Cortez, would be coming off the bench. Pressley and Cuffee were two more shooting guards they could go to. Our backcourt was going to be in for it.
The team from Westwood began this game in the same way as their other tournament games, fast and ahead. We won the toss, but Bert missed the opening shot with a Bruin glued to his hip. They raced down the court, Knight passing to Loughton at the top of the key, and slipping a screen for an easy layup. That’s how it started and continued, and before we knew it, we were down 8-0 just like that. Bert was able to find Billy cutting through the lane for our first basket, but that didn’t really do much to slow the Bruins down. In situations like this, I would usually take out Trevor and go small, but I had doubts that Raymond, as talented defensively as he is, could do much against that seven-footer, who UCLA would go into to take advantage of the size advantage. At least Trevor wasn’t committing fouls, something Raymond may very much have to do. We’d have to wait this out. Midway through the first quarto, the gap grew to 14-2. Billy found Bert to cut it to ten, but the Bruins would score the next two possessions down for an 18-4 lead. This was the punch in the face I had a feeling we’d receive. I couldn’t really expect the kids to slow the bleeding, even if I told them to expect it. It was time to do what I was getting paid to do, for as long as I’d be paid to do it. Time out.
“There’s nothing you can really do except play hard, or harder than you’re doing now,” I told them calmly. If I yelled at them and told them they weren’t playing hard enough, I’d lose them with over thirty minutes left to go. They were playing hard, and UCLA was simply making their shots. That cannot be held against a player. There is a difference in talent that hard work sometimes cannot make up for. That doesn’t mean they should stop working hard. “Just keep doing what you can. Communicate. Rotate. Elevate. The basketball gods are watching. We’ll get back in this if you put in the work. Remember, forward. One play forward. One stop forward.”
When we checked back in, Billy found Bert open outside, and Bert sank the triple. I told Trevor not to worry about the early misses. He had to dig in. He squared himself up against Elliah Richardson enough to bother Richardson’s jumper outside the key. He had no business shooting that other than to try to intimidate Trevor. It didn’t work. Billy dribbled the ball to the wing, and Bert, heading over to the lone ranger spot, got his shoulders past Hooper, and Billy’s pass was spot-on for an alley-oop. UCLA center Richardson again tried to take it to Trevor, who swatted his baby hook away. We went down the court and eventually got the ball to Najeeb who finished with a power lay in. Bert poked the ball from a pass intended for Hooper, and Najeeb drilled a three in Terry Clemmons’ face. Their advantage was virtually gone. We could play basketball again. Midway through the first half, it was 20-14. Forward.
They extended their lead back to double digits at the nine minute mark of the second quarto. Billy and Ime were getting outplayed by Knight and Loughton. Then on the next trip down, on a reversal from Bert at the high post, Ime drilled it from deep for his first points of the game. At the eight minute mark, I put in both Raymond and Orien to give Trevor and Najeeb a breather. They didn’t want to go out, but I wanted them back in once we got under five minutes to go. Raymond and Orien immediately rewarded me, with a high-low. It was a beautiful bounce pass from Raymond to a slow-playing Orien who was really just trying to get position on the other side. Orien gave me 4 points. Unfortunately, UCLA heated up again, and at around five minutes, I put Trevor and Najeeb back in, but had to take out Bert and Ime. Even though Billy was getting out-worked, I needed to keep him in the game. If I put in Frye, our scoring would’ve gone to zero. I had hoped that my frontcourt would have carried the load, but Trevor and Najeeb missed a lot at pointblank range.
The Bruins kept their lead at ten until Diondre buried a trey with three minutes to go. I sent Ime and Bert back in for Billy and Diondre, and Ime’s hand got going. He drilled a three to cut the lead to four with forty seconds to play in the half, and then another one right at the buzzer to get us to within one possession, 43-40, in the face of his first half tormentor Braxton Loughton. Something told me right then that Ime had figured Loughton’s defense out.
UCLA had shot a ridiculous 64% from the field, something I didn’t think they could replicate, as long as we kept our defensive energy up. The stat they should’ve been most worried about was how we shot 8 of 11 from deep, and our main shooters were only starting to heat up. We had allowed too many offensive rebounds. When up against a lineup where everyone is over 6’6”, that’ll happen.
I told Billy he had to forget about the first half, forget about the 14 that Cliff Knight dropped on him. He had to shut that kid down the rest of the way though, or else this was it for us. If he could do that, we could find scoring elsewhere. Ime had 9, and Bert had 12, and those points had come easily for them. I felt they could do more. I also put it to Najeeb. The Summit Player of the Year had to show he was the best power forward in the game from the break on. It was frightening how his and Clemmons’ production was also so similar, as if they were canceling each other out. I needed Najeeb to have a presence in the game. Trevor only had 2 points, and he had shown that he could shut down Richardson inside. The question was, could Richardson shut out Trevor from outside? I told him to challenge the Bruin. If their big man was too scared to come out and play defense, then Trevor had the green light to bomb away. Even though we were behind on the scoreboard, I certainly didn’t feel we were the underdogs any longer.
Once the second half started, we decided to test Trevor out. Off a screen for Bert, Hooper had no choice but to switch over and immediately sent Trevor to the charity stripe. Trevor calmly knocked down both foul shots. He could do that all night long if they were going to give it to him. I was right about Ime, too. He hit the first shot he got coming off a curl. We went into Trevor again on an opposite post entry, and he hits the six foot jumper over his seven foot defender. It was clear to me now that Richardson was afraid to go beyond the key against him. Bert later found Ime completely sealing off Loughton and bounced it into him. Ime did the rest.
UCLA became less efficient from outside just as I thought they’d be. They had been shooting at a transcendental pace. Their shooters suddenly were getting caught with their feet on the line for long twos. This is why sports are often referred to as games of inches. And in a contest like this one, those inches and lost points begin to add up, and pretty soon, the game had changed.
Halfway through the third quarto, Najeeb began to go to work. Terry Clemmons had put up a couple of baskets earlier in the half, and Najeeb wanted to return the favor. Billy tossed a behind the head pass to him, and Najeeb hit a beautiful twisting fading jumper. We started working the offense through Najeeb, because Clemmons kept switching onto Ime. He drew the third foul on Hooker with over fourteen minutes left in the game. Unfortunately for us, his replacement was Shuan Cortez. Then again, he had been completely shut out up to this point. I sent in Diondre and Raymond to give Trevor and Ime a quick breather. It was 52-57, Bruins.
Our defense intensified on the perimeter with Trevor sitting. Bert stole the ball and Diondre found Raymond, who was quickly fouled to prevent the easy two. He knocked them down to cut the lead to three. More importantly, UCLA was starting to foul. Although they had the depth to replace their starters, we’d be in the bonus if this kept up. Harper scored again on the next possession after another UCLA foul, an over the back by Terry Clemmons. It was a one-point lead, and confidence didn’t have white jerseys on. PURPLE REIGN began to be heard in pockets throughout the RCA Dome. Diondre was able to stay on Cliff Knight’s hip, stopping his penetrations, and forcing him to give up the basketball. We worked the ball around the perimeter before Billy found Najeeb cutting to the basket, forcing Richardson to commit a reach-in foul. That was the fifth team foul. Najeeb converted the free throw to tie the game at 61-61.
Ime and Borislav entered the game for Billy and Bert. I sent Trevor back in too for a little more intimidation. A moment later, we found him on a pro-style post-up. Braxton Loughton was on him but couldn’t do anything but foul as Trevor finger-rolled it over him. He wouldn’t convert the free throw, but the damage had been done. We now had the lead. It would be the Bruins playing on their heels the rest of the way, but there was still a lot of game left.
With the game tied at 63, we had probably the most important play of the game. Off a long rebound, Cliff Knight fired a pass ahead to Braxton Loughton, who slashed through the paint for what looked to be an easy score, only to have Ime there to completely smother his shot attempt, which sent the basketball the other way. Diondre found Trevor completely unguarded down the lane. A Clemmons goal-tend later, and we were up again. Billy and Bert came back in on the dead-ball. Bert scored our next four points, one from another alley-oop from Billy. We were up 69-65. It was the last chance UCLA really had to steal our momentum.
The shots from deep that UCLA hit from deep in the first half, were off the mark in the second. They were rattled. A Raymond put-back built the lead up to 71-65, our biggest lead of the game.
With under seven left to play, the Bruins sent Richardson and Knight back into the game. The substitution gave them the spark they needed. A Hooper bucket, a Pressley three, and Richardson able to get the defense in the popcorn maker gave UCLA back the lead at 71-72 with 4:42 remaining. Najeeb was in my ear about getting back in the game, and I was ready to accommodate him when Raymond scored a basket to put us up again. I told him to stay put, and rather than call a time out, waited to get him in on the next dead ball. That ended up being a terrible idea.
For the next two whole minutes, neither team scored anything. Billy sent the ball to Trevor, again in the pro-style post up. It was an approach Coach Danny had been working with him throughout the year. On the low block, he can’t really take advantage of his jumper. From deep, we lose his rebounding. From here, a mid-range post option, Trevor has everything available to him. UCLA sent a triple-team to stop him. Trevor was able to pivot and hit a wide open Bert all the way in the corner on the other side of the court. Bert drilled the trey. It wasn’t the winner, but it might as well was.
UCLA called time-out. They wanted to get Clemmons and Loughton back in. It also allowed me to get Najeeb back in. Unleashing him full of energy for the last two minutes of the game was the best thing I could do for the team as a whole. The shot they got once the ball was in play again was a baseline jumper by Clemmons for his twelfth point. Najeeb shouldn’t have left him on that shot. Everyone else was locked down. Billy only had 7 points, but had done a fine job defensively against Cliff Knight in the second half. Najeeb needed to settle down. 76-74, 1:45 to play.
We got the ball to Najeeb in the high post, and Clemmons did not body him up, which allowed Najeeb to face up to the basket. That made Braxton Loughton take a step in to help out, a step too much. Najeeb waited until Loughton was on his heels before firing the pass over to Ime, perfectly hitting him in his wheelhouse. Ime drained it. Five-point lead, 79-74, with 1:30 to go.
The No.1 team in the nation wasn’t going to just lie down and roll over, though. Raynardo Hooper scored on a fast break, 79-76, 1:10 remaining. Najeeb got the ball on the block, but couldn’t get it to fall, fifty-two seconds left. Our transition defense prevented a fast break, but just as Najeeb had found Ime for the deep shot, Richardson had found Loughton the same way. It was payback. But it wasn’t. Again, his foot was on the line. Instead of a three, it was a long two, 79-78, forty-one ticks away.
Billy got the ball to Trevor at the high post, and the Bruin defense swarmed him. He was able to find Ime open on the wing, but Ime couldn’t get the shot to drop. UCLA secured the rebound with twenty-seven seconds in the Final Four.
The ball touched three Bruins before it got back to Cliff Knight. He was trying to set up a play as the clock wound down under twenty seconds. Under fifteen seconds. With just ten seconds, he still had the ball because Billy would not let him get anywhere. Cliff Knight tried to get the ball to Raynardo Hooper at the wing, but Najeeb Goode was on him off a switch. Najeeb knocked the pass down, and secured the ball with eight seconds left in the game. It was the biggest play in the whole tournament. It was the biggest defensive play in all of college basketball history, maybe in all of basketball history. Maybe it fell short of what Larry Bird did to the Pistons in Game 5 of the ’87 Eastern Conference Finals.
Najeeb calmly knocked down the two free throws to give him 14 for the night, besting his doppelganger Terry Clemmons. Najeeb’s 10 rebounds were also crucial, but the second-best steal in basketball history that he made will go down as the stuff of legend.
UCLA still had another shot, but Ben Howland was all out of time-outs. Cliff Knight pushed it up the court, and found Elliah Richardson wide open at the three point line. It wasn’t his shot, but as a senior, he probably knew it was the best one available. Trevor looked like he was moving in sand to get out there as the shot left his hand. It was straight enough and long enough, but not true enough. It clanked hard against the rim and backboard, and as Terry Clemmons grabbed the rebound, the buzzer went off. The game was over. 81-78, Western Illinois Leathernecks.
The Player of the Game might have been Bert Draughan again, who had 19 points and 7 rebounds, but the game ball went to the guy who did all the things the basketball gods could have wanted, and secured our victory in so doing. Who deserved it better than Mr. Summit Player of the Year himself, Najeeb Goode? Trevor Hoyer had 10 points and 7 boards, Ime Terrell had 16 points with a steal and the best block of the night, and Billy Assel only scored 7 points, but his 9 assists and his lockdown defense in the second half helped us come away with it.
We had again beaten a 1 seed, the 1 seed, and again have made it to the national championship game. Now we have a date with a familiar foe.
April 5th
Indianapolis, IN
After the game against UCLA and the seltzer shower in the locker room, champagne is against not only university rules but also against the law when those under the age of twenty-one present, I received a message from an old friend. It was none other than Champion Leatherneck, Deke Van.
Deke was flying in to see the game on Monday. He didn’t ask for anything, but there was no way I was going to let him watch from some sports bar, even though I have no problems with sports bars. Sam’s Deli back in Macomb at 711 1/2 W. Adams St is a favorite place of mine. They even have a sandwich named after Deke. I never go there during the season, but will make a late night appearance to bring things back for all the coaches when we meet together.
We arranged to meet for dinner after practice with the team ended. The nine o’clock curfew was still in effect, to everyone’s dismay. The redshirt freshmen told me I didn’t need to treat them like little babies. I told them they didn’t need to whine like babies, either. It was one more game, and the last curfew they’d have to serve for the next six months. It would have been great if Deke could have arrived earlier, to talk to them about what it felt like not only to play in but also to win the national championship game. Deke had been the Most Outstanding Player of that game, even though it had been Giovanni that had carried us there throughout that year’s tournament.
I arranged for a driver to pick him up from the airport and bring him to the restaurant. If things don’t work out between me and Western Illinois University after this, then this is a final courtesy they could pay for.
Deke had been playing basketball all around the world, which had taken me by surprise. I thought after he had gone undrafted he would have chosen a different career path. Instead, he chose something few people in the world are ever able to do, and making a living out of. He had found playing in Taiwan challenging, but began to find his groove in Europe playing in the Greek league, the same one that the Antetokounmpo brothers had played in. His family back home in San Antonio really misses him.
“It’s been tough being away from my family, but it’s not like we don’t talk. Thanks to technology, we talk every week, usually once a week. That was more than we had talked when I was in school,” Deke explained. “That’s one positive from all this craziness this year. I can stay a little longer stateside than I’d usually be able to. You want to be close to all the people you care about, all the people who love you during times like these. Don’t you feel that way, Coach?”
Deke was referring to me being from California. “Certainly, but I’ve already spent a third of my life now out in Macomb. I know the adults there better than I ever did in the Golden State. At what point do you move what the location of home is in your life?”
“I guess no matter what country I’d be in, and no matter how much time passes, I’ll always consider America my home. I’ve already been in Greece for almost four years, and I’ve gotten a lot of the things down, but I can’t really say its home for me,” he answered.
“What about Macomb for you?” I asked. “You were there for five years. Did you ever feel that it was home? Or better yet, how much of it feels like a home for you?”
“You know, it wasn’t really until my final year, when we decided to do all those things together in the community that I started to get comfortable there,” he answered nostalgically. “That was when we started getting as much love as the football team. I think the community was even sponsoring our Christmas dinners.”
“Unofficially,” I remarked, even though I knew our chat was off the record.
“Of course,” he replied, laughing. “And when the Peach Bottoms started to travel to the Summit Tournament in Sioux City to watch us win, that’s when it started to feel like home. I walked around and people everywhere wanted an autograph and a picture together. That has never happened again since. I don’t know if that is what a home should feel like. I don’t even know if the rest of the guys had felt that way when they were there. A lot had been happening and we had wanted to send a message, and we got flack and hate mail after we knelt at the title game. Are you guys going to do that this year?”
“Kneeling isn’t a tradition,” I reminded him. “That was what you all wanted to do, that was how you all wanted to own the game. I couldn’t force you to do so, and I don’t want to force it onto Bert and the other players, either. However, if they choose to, I would kneel by them, too.”
“It seems almost like a requirement to do so nowadays,” he said thoughtfully. “We did it to send a message, but now it has a message of its own. Either you’re with the people who kneel or you’re not. It’s become so polarizing. That wasn’t what we were trying to do at all. We wanted to just stand up against discrimination.”
“It’s a sign of the times,” I tried to explain. “When the person in charge is inciting violence and dividing people in such an obvious and divisive way, and since he’s got the largest megaphone in the world, it starts a snowball effect, and soon an avalanche. I can’t put that on the team. Some of them are looking to start careers and can’t shoulder the weight of it all. Mine, I hope, is fairly established. I can carry the load for them, if that is what they want.”
“So you’re planning on staying on after?” Deke inquired.
“Interesting you should bring that up,” I replied. “I haven’t been extended, yet.”
“That is unreal,” he shot back in disbelief. “After everything that you’ve done for them.”
“I don’t necessarily think it’s a negative thing,” I remonstrated. “It’s not as if we won’t go back to negotiating. I feel as if I’m much more in the driver’s seat than even before. Also, having it be so drawn out has allowed me to look at other options I had never thought to explore before. One could even be, as you had mentioned, going back to California.”
“You win it tomorrow, and you could have any California school you want,” Deke replied, calming down. “I mean, it’s their own fault for not locking you up. I doubt they’d be able to afford you after this. A second national championship appearance in five years? Not many people can do that. That is elite company there. Forget the blue bloods. That is legendary status there; Coach K, Coach Roy Williams, Coach Calhoun level.”
“That’s quite a list.” I was surprised not to hear the greats like Dean Smith, Judd Hirsch, or John Wooden. Wooden is a stretch too far perhaps. He’ll probably always stand up there alone. “Truthfully, it doesn’t even have to be California. I’d be happy with the whole West Coast.”
I then told him about the discussions I had been having with the Northwest Foundation, and how they were determined to bring a team back to the Seattle area. I wanted his opinions on what making the jump from the college game to the professional game was like.
“For me, it was really tough.” Deke may have outplayed every center he had faced in college, but he had been the victim of the NBA’s transition to small ball. The type of center he had developed into in college, with his low post moves and his baseline jumper, which remained erratic, and his stout post defense, was flaming out. The game was moving faster, not slower, and the skill set most teams want out of their centers were defending, rebounding, and dunking. Basically, they wanted everyone to be like DeAndre Jordan, and that was a bridge too far for Deke. He didn’t have the spring in his step or the foot quickness to switch onto point guards regularly. It’s sad to think that players like Shawn Bradley and Bryant Reeves were given a chance, but someone like Deke had not been. “That type of bias doesn’t just happen to the players either, Coach. There are guys who know the game inside and out but will never be head coaches, and again, a lot of it is really stupid shit. I’m not just talking about the color of their skin. That is by far the biggest reason, but not the only one. How well do they look in a suit? How attentive do they look in a game? The countenance someone wears shouldn’t be probed because it has nothing to do with the end result, but it is probed nonetheless.”
“Well, either way, if the NBA does decide to expand to thirty-two teams, it’s good for everyone, isn’t it? It’s another franchise to try out for,” I answered. “It might be a fresh chance to give another try to the NBA for players like you, who didn’t fit the cut of DeAndre Jordan. After all, after what Nikola Jokic and Domantas Sabonis have done for the center position recently should dispel what executives did to it in the past.”
“I don’t want you to think you don’t belong there, Coach.” Deke hadn’t had time to elaborate, only to vent, and it had gotten out of control. “If they offer you, you should totally do it, if not for anything than for the money alone. Look at how much the Cavs had paid David Blatt first for sitting down and adding minimally, and then for just going away. You’re a grinder, and you’ve taught us all to grind, and I believe the Quadrangle Offense could really change the NBA. But if it doesn’t, you should get a hefty payout for making the jump regardless.”
Perhaps it was the isolation that allowed Deke to speak out more, since wherever he was, he most likely wasn’t hearing what he wanted to say being said by anyone else, because it was unlikely they could speak English the way he could. It’s a nice change for him. His words helped untangle the constant mental wrestling I have with the possibility, if it ever happens, requiring less mental gymnastics for me to flat out accept it. Every now and then, you need a person to remind you that you’ve done a lot of good, and that you deserve a lot of good, too. That player for me is Deke and all the other Champion Leathernecks.
If we could play another game as well as we did in the first two weekends, or even pull off another game like we did last night, or even two years ago against the Florida Gators, then I’d have a whole lot more Champion Leathernecks to console me when I need it.
April 6th
Indianapolis, IN
Before the game, I am asked about the Northwest Foundation again. I decided to come clean with the news. “There is truth to it. I have had extended conversations with the Northwest Foundation, but I cannot verify what their intentions are exactly. I don’t know if they plan on recreating the Seattle Supersonics or whether they just want another sports team in the area.”
Of course, answering a question only leads to more questions. Are you going to make the jump to the NBA then, if you are offered the position? “I have entertained it, but I haven’t made any final decisions. My contract with Western Illinois University ends with the conclusion of tonight’s game, and if the offer is entertaining enough, then yes, I might just jump happily up and down a few times. That doesn’t mean I’d certainly take the job, though.” If the offer is significant, does that mean that if Western Illinois doesn’t match the offer that they can start looking for another head coach? “We are getting into hypotheticals here, and as entertaining as such things can be, this is a matter I am not going to discuss publicly, and will refrain from dragging into the fourth estate. It would not be fair to the good people of Western Illinois. You may want to make this to be about respect, and it is nothing of the sort. If anything, it is more about loyalty. It is what being a leatherneck is all about.” Does that mean you are staying, then? “Any other questions that won’t insult the people of Macomb?”
If you were to make the jump to the NBA, what would that jump mean to you? “Well, you all seem to be thinking it is a way out. I on the other hand see it more as a way in. There is a world out there that is beyond me, beyond what I’ve experienced. Maybe a jump into NBA 2K20 will get me there.”
Last time you brought up John Battista Vico. Does his philosophy have any influence over your decision-making for the foreseeable future? “Giambattista Vico’s philosophy isn’t designed to offer solutions to one’s personal problems. Instead, his writings are there to offer balance and perspective. There is no call for a greater goal or a battle for the future. The future is the future, and we adjust to it the way we best know how.” Isn’t that similar to what the Buddha says about living in the moment, that to live in the present is to live skillfully, fully, and actively in the present? “Yes, that sounds about right. I like how that sounds.” If you agree with Buddhism, why do you hate it? “I don’t hate Buddhism. I have said simply that Buddhism doesn’t always work for me. The part I have the most difficulty with is the concept of Sunyata, or for most of you here who have no idea what I’m talking about, the non-self. If I am to be empty, if my mind is to be empty, then whose thoughts are these?” A dream of Brahma?
It had been an interesting remark. I had been watching highlights before our matchup against UCLA, and I could have sworn that some of the clips I saw on the internet hadn’t happened during the game at all. Yet there they were, us against both Kansas and Memphis, doing things we hadn’t done at the time. Roberto Djordjevic had made a dunk, but Roberto and Garik Frye hadn’t even gotten off the bench. I felt as if I was in The Matrix, and something terrible was about to happen, as if they were about to rewrite history. That isn’t Giambattista Vico. That is Big Brother. As far as I knew, only communists were doing such things nowadays.
I had been so freaked out about it that it made me spend over an hour searching for some kind of explanation to help me understand what I was experiencing. It was like some kind of superpositionism or something. A superposition is an act of placing one thing over or above another, something that apparently occurs at a quantum level, like one universe replacing another. Several possibilities are occurring at the same time, and the one that receives attention, the one that the eye is drawn to, the one that reaches consciousness, becomes the real possibility. In the blink of an eye, one instance is replaced by another. At a quantum level, could anyone recognize anyone else? Could anything recognize anything else? I know on a molecular level, all primates share roughly 97% DNA. And if we are all pulled into a black hole, we would all reach singularity, a point where roughly everything is uniform and devoid of particularity, the birthplace of all things. It wouldn’t matter then if the world was created or destroyed at that point. It wouldn’t help me focus on the universe I do have to partake in.
Before the game, Deke Van appeared in the locker room as a special guest, and the fifth-year seniors were floored. He had been part of the reason they had joined the program. He fielded questions and told stories to help them get an idea about what they were going to go through. He asked them if there was anything that they were playing for, anything that brought them together for this very moment, and explained the story behind the team kneeling during the national anthem. It had been Dawud Byfield, bringing in the story about The Racial Contract that had let everyone to understand the moment beyond the locker room, the moment beyond the world of college basketball, and it was the willingness to try to be active in that moment, to join it and represent it as best as they could. “Is there something like that for you?”
Bert Draughan, the team captain, was the only one who was able to lend voice for all members in the room. “For us, there isn’t really a message. For us, there is simply confirmation. If we go out there, and we win this game tonight, then that helps to cement the legacy which started with you guys in the first place. We here, we’re the little guys, and all around the country and all around the world are other little guys who shouldn’t be able to stand up to the big guys. So far, we’ve shown we’ve done a better job. We’ve shown that the little guys are better than the big guys, that the little guys are the big guys.
“All the prejudices people hold and all the stories they tell to keep those prejudices in place, we are, each of us, a product of the stories that we tell ourselves. And furthermore, we can change how those stories end. We can change an ending that none of us could accept. The year before, we lost in the first round, and we’ve been working to change every day ever since. You guys brought up how the main story has been affecting the world. We’re playing to show the world that they don’t have to accept it, that the story really belongs to them,” Bert explained, putting into words everyone’s intentions finally.
“The year before we got to the national championships, we had lost in the first round, too. There are definitely some similarities there,” Deke told them, holding back that it was his shot which had allowed the loss to happen. “When we won in 2015, the words on our banner had read Feel It! What do you guys have on your banner?”
Coach Danny O’Sullivan and Coach Garik O’Toole unrolled it, possibly for the last time as the coaches of the Leathernecks. As it had all year long, the words PURPLE REIGN were as clear and prominent as ever.
“Purple Reign. I like it,” Deke said. He then began to silently chant it over and over. “Purple Reign, purple reign, Purple Reign, purple reign…”
“PURPLE REIGN! PURPLE REIGN! PURPLE REIGN! PURPLE REIGN!” the rest of the locker room began to shout. After his basketball career, Deke could take over as the coach for the Leathernecks. He could certainly control a room now, and not just with his body language. I’ll forever be indebted to him for the pre-game speech. Nothing else really needed to be said.
The Florida Gators were a 3 seed and the winners out of the South Regional. They had beaten the 5 seed East Regional champion Indiana Hoosiers to get here. Their star player is 6’6” 240 lbs senior small forward Maury Little. He wasn’t the only senior Florida had. 6’5” 232 lbs senior shooting guard Wade Giles and 6’7” 208 lbs senior power forward Jaja Annen made up their core, with 5’10” 165 lbs freshman point guard Gervais Wooden, and 6’10” 217 lbs sophomore center Edwin Lyons rounding out their roster. There wasn’t going to be a way for them to deal with our size advantage with Trevor in the middle. I was also salivating at the chance to post Billy up.
Even though Trevor won the tip again, it was Florida that got the game’s first points. They rebounded Trevor’s two-foot miss, and went down the court so quickly that Bert had no chance of getting good position and was called for the blocking foul. Maury Little hit both free throws, and Florida was up 2-0. It didn’t last very long. An Ime screen and a Billy triple later, we were up. The next play, we did the exact same thing that the Gators had done to us, just with more style. Trevor grabbed the rebound off a missed three, and got the outlet to Billy. Billy dribbled it to the wing and lobbed it up for Bert to slam down. Bert shot a look over at Maury. It was the briefest of glances, almost unnoticeable, but if you have watched him play for the last five years as I have, that nanosecond glance was like a thousand-yard stare. Bert was in combat mode, and whatever Maury had done to challenge him, he was going to find out that Bert Draughan is the real deal. Then again, who knows if Maury had done anything at all. Just the fact that he is the projected top pick in the draft might have been enough to fire Bert up.
When Florida had to actually play halfcourt offense, they had trouble knocking shots down. This was going to be the best time for them to find these shots, because I knew as the game went on, Najeeb would find a way to close the distance inch by inch before there were no longer any open shots to take. Meanwhile, on the other side, Ime started early. He hit a jumper, got ahead for a layup, hit a pair of free throws, and put taller Wade Giles in the twister on the low block. After three and a half minutes, we were up, 11-4. And most of our team hadn’t even gotten involved yet.
Billy began to really see the advantage he had over Gervais Wooden, which was more than just six inches and thirty pounds. He hit Trevor with a fantastic bounce pass in the key. Trevor was rotating hard on defensive switches, being a real disruptive force. Billy found Bert on back to back possessions. Bert quietly had 8 points to lead the team in scoring as we entered the second quarto. We had a ten point lead, 24-14, but the run was far from over.
Billy didn’t just issue out dimes. He drilled one from deep with nine to go in the first half. When Florida thought he was looking for his shot, he found Najeeb instead for an easy deuce. We were suddenly up 33-18, but that wasn’t enough, either. Our defense tightened up even more. Trevor stripped the ball away from Gervais Wooden, which resulted in Bert draining a trey. Then Billy got a steal, went down the court, and got the ball back to knock one from behind the arc. With 4:30 to play, we were up by fifteen points, 39-24. I felt comfortable taking out a couple of my starters for a breather. I sent in Frye and Borislav for Bert and Billy. Ime handled the ball.
Even though Florida began to get their shot going, I wanted Najeeb to be ready to finish the Gators off in the second half, so the substitutions were going back and forth in the last couple of minutes before intermission. We never took our foot off the pedal. Raymond had a put-back. Diondre scored an And-1 on a fast break. Ime drilled another three. The only thing that didn’t go our way was Trevor picking up a silly foul at the end for his second personal. Florida had a lot to talk about at halftime. We were up 51-36.
We had shot 62% from the field and hit 6 of 12 from behind the arc. We also held Florida to 39% and only 2 of 11 from deep. In the second half, I had a feeling they’d get some more shots to go home. The question was, what could they really shut down? We were scoring from everywhere, and so much of it was coming off our defense. We had forced 6 turnovers. If they were going to keep Gervais Wooden on Billy, Billy would keep finding everybody in spots they love scoring from.
We already had three Leathernecks in double digits. Ime led everyone with 13, and Trevor and Bert had 11 each. Billy had 9 points, and Najeeb had 2, but hadn’t even begun looking for his shot. He was putting all his focus on defense. The leading scorer for the Gators was Jaja Annen with 10, and Wade Giles and Maury Little had 8 apiece. I was confident that the three of them would not be able to carry the load offensively against us. I didn’t see them tripling their scores, not with the way we were playing defense. Even if they matched their offensive output from the first half, which were not terrible numbers, a mediocre effort from us in the second half would still get the job done. That isn’t what we are about, though. This was the national championship. Not every team gets here, and we were fortunate enough to be here for a second time. We were going to honor the game at its highest level, no matter what the outcome would be. Otherwise, what was the point of being here?
At the half, everyone felt good. Everyone could feel the championship right there for the taking. Before the UCLA game, I had warned them to be cautious. I was not doing that this time. “You can feel the energy, can’t you? You can feel that sinking shoulders on the Florida players. I know you can. They weren’t feeling that way when they knocked off Indiana. They weren’t feeling that way when they beat Minnesota by a point. Who do you think is responsible for what they are feeling in that locker room over there? Do you want to go and cheer them up?
“If you don’t go out there and keep at it, if you let off and let them back in the game by not attacking offensively and defensively, that is what you’d be doing. Nothing feels happier than a team getting back in a game. Remember when Ime hit a pair from beyond in the last minute before halftime to get us to within one possession of UCLA? How happy were we feeling about that? We felt so good we ended up winning the game, and crushing the hearts and spirits of millions of Bruins’ fans all across the country.
“That team over there is waiting for you to let them back in it. Bert, you know why, don’t you? It was because we let them almost steal it two years ago. Why shouldn’t they think they can’t steal this one as well? You’ve got to show them, in the first five minutes of the second half, you’ve got to show them that we have already shut the door, and we threw away the key. None of us in this room is going to save them. This is our year. This is our crown. This kingdom belongs to us!”
PURPLE REIGN! PURPLE REIGN! PURPLE REIGN!
That intensity continued right where it left off. Florida had the ball, and on a nice basket cut, I bet Gervais Wooden felt he had an easy two. Trevor came from behind and swatted it straight to Billy. Billy took off and immediately spotted Bert uncovered. Bert now had 14.
The only player Florida thought they could cheat off of was Najeeb. Maybe their coaching staff forgot he was still the reigning Summit Player of the Year, and while that may not mean much to an SEC team, it should’ve reminded them not to leave him alone. They didn’t even raise a hand to challenge him outside, so he knocked down the jumper. Then he caught a nice pass from Trevor for a two-foot layup. Easily my favorite Najeeb score was when he had the ball deep in the post. He pivoted back and forth, and scored with four Gators in the area, not one of them able to do anything but watch the shot go up. It was 62-45. Florida still had time, but they had to know it was running out.
They battled to get back, with Maury Little cooking. He hit a deep shot to cut the lead to fourteen, and then ended two scoreless minutes in the game with another basket, a baby hook over both Bert and Trevor, to make it 62-50, with fourteen minutes left in the season. Maury Little was doing it all by himself with 18 points. They were on their run now. How close was it going to get them?
After a breakaway Billy dunk off a Najeeb steal, I subbed out both of our starting bigs. Run or not, we were up by fourteen, and more than thirteen minutes was too long not to give them some rest. I remembered what happened two years ago down the stretch. Raymond and Orien have been playing so well. I could trust them.
Florida may not have had much success playing off Najeeb, but their defense tightened up with Orien in. They held us to almost three whole scoreless minutes and were able to cut the lead to single digits when Orien grabbed and put back an Ime miss. He missed the And-1, but we were back up by ten, 66-56. That was the most dramatic it would get.
As we entered the final quarto, I took out Bert and Ime, leaving Billy as the only starter in the game. The fresher bodies made a difference. Diondre stole a pass and sent it to Billy for another breakaway dunk, and he converted the free throw after. One possession later, Raymond muscled a shot in, and he also converted the free throw after. Then Borislav picked off the pass at the wing, and Diondre, noticing Billy uncovered, lobbed it up to him for an alley-oop. The lead had ballooned to 18 points with all of our fifth-year seniors on the bench.
It didn’t matter what Florida was going to do. It never mattered what Florida was going to do. It was about us, and what we were doing, regardless of who was in the game. Billy hit another one from out in Mars, Diondre stole the ball again, and Orien hit a jumper off a low-high pass from Raymond. Our lead was nineteen with less than six and a half to go. The run didn’t come from Florida, but from us instead. Everybody knew what was happening, and what was going to happen. The past, present, and future all merged into one moment when Billy hit another triple with 4:15 remaining. It was 90-66.
Then, I heard it. To many, they would have seen Deke Van in front of the band conducting “We’re Marching On” somewhat prematurely, having the time of his life. Others would have seen on the big screen the chaotic scene of purple and white bodies of both students and Peach Bottoms screaming and going crazy at Western Hall. Somewhere, there were eight hundred and twenty-two people on Twitch, seven thousand and seven hundred subscribers on substack all aware of what was going on, witnessing Borislav Grimes drill back to back to back three-pointers to put us up 99-70. I knew what I had heard. I just don’t know how to describe it in sounds or in words. I am not a sesquipedalian. If anything, I probably suffer from hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia, from a fear of really long words. However, how else was there to explain it? It was an osteosarchaematosplanchnochondroneuromuelous sound, transcending the very nature of the very osseocarnisanguineoviscericartilaginonervomedullary itself. It was beyond all reason and comprehension of my world and of my dimension of existence. Bababadalgharaghtakamminarronnkonnbronntonnerronntuonnthunntrovarrhounawn. That was what I heard. Something from the great beyond. Something beyond my own form, beyond form itself. And after hearing it, I knew what I had to do. I knew what the future had in store for me, and I would have to move with it. It was my destiny.
At around two minutes left to play, Diondre was pushed into the backcourt, but instead was called for a backcourt violation. It gave me a chance to pull Billy. Billy was destined to be the Most Outstanding Player of the game, to receive the award when this Gator slaughter eventually ended. I took him out so he’d have the energy to receive it. Billy left the game to a standing ovation. His stat line showed it was well-deserving: 22 points, 9 assists, a rebound, a steal, and a block. Frye could play as loose as possible now.
People talk about the game slowing down for them. For me, it seemed as if it sped up. Everyone was counting down like it was New Year’s Eve. Deke in front of the band became the Leathernecks’ biggest cheerleader, his own championship ring displayed prominently on his huge hand, leading the chant of PURPLE REIGN around the arena. When Edwin Lyons was fouled by Raymond and sent to the free throw line, the crowd at the RCA Dome booed at the refs. Who calls a foul with fourteen seconds remaining in a blow out game like this one? What it allowed me to do was put in Roberto, who hadn’t played since the Memphis massacre. Trevor and Ime also wanted to be on the court, too.
The counting down resumed the moment we grabbed the rebound after the missed free throw. Thirteen, twelve, eleven, ten, nine, eight, seven… Roberto, in a move very similar to another Leatherneck from San Antonio, must have heard the countdown and instinctively shot the ball. He drilled the trey. It was the last score of the game. Strangely enough, even though it counted and was tallied, Roberto’s shot did not appear in the box score. What can I say? It actually happened. Everyone who watched the game witnessed it going through the net. Quantumism.
As the clock reached zero, everyone stormed the court. Bert and Najeeb, who did not want to return to the game toward the end, gave me a proper and unexpected Gatorade shower. It was sheer pandemonium, and remained that way after we cut down the net, after the award ceremony began, and after we accepted the trophy. In the only college basketball national championship game of the 2020 season seen by more than one hundred people, the Western Illinois Leathernecks earned the crown with a victory over the Florida Gators, 107-77.
In the speech on the podium, I congratulated my players for the effort they put out and for what they had just done. They were the greatest players in college basketball this year, regardless of what anybody else is going to say. “My players are no different than all the other players you’ve never seen and never heard of to play the game. So many have accepted them as real. They follow the rules in the world they live in, just as you do. Whose fault is it that everyone else has such a narrow view of humanity? Can’t we accept life as it is? Can’t we respect one another’s existence and praise one another’s superposition of microscopic possibilities? If we don’t, we will never heal, we will never see the truth for what it truly is. We all live here together, each and every one of us. To not see that, to not appreciate that and accept that is existism, and existism at its clearest and worst form. I urge everyone watching, those who can and can’t hear what I am saying to accept this result, accept the legitimacy of this championship into the plane of external consensus reality as you would all the others. Otherwise, there will always be a void, a break in continuity. And how will that be explained to future generations? It will feel more than just absence. It will feel like a tear in the fabric of time and space itself.”
Nobody interrupted me. Nobody could understand what was going on. Nobody could hurt me at that point. I was all alone, with the cotton net around my neck, in the center of the universe as it expanded and shifted and changed around me. I was the first one to understand. I was the first one who knew exactly what the voice of God was asking for. In time, they would all catch up. Everyone would understand. In time. And space.
Somebody asked me if I was going to go to the White House. I’m pretty sure I said something strongly to this affect. “Are we going to the White House? Fuck no we’re not going to the White House! The White House can come to Macomb and we’ll kick their ass.”
It wasn’t about me anymore. I had ‘Neck Nation completely behind me.
For the entire story in one file, please go here: https://gumroad.com/l/bVSqud