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MILK & HONEY
March 25th
Nashville, TN
Even now as we are preparing for the 6 seed Memphis Tigers coached by John Calipari, talks between me and the Northwest Foundation continue and have reached new heights. I feel terrible for the Leatherneck players that I’m even entertaining the calls while we are in the midst of such a remarkable moment, but the calls give me more comfort than the negotiations I am having, or not having and should be having with my current employers.
The discussions, at this point nothing has been offered and nothing has been accepted or declined, have allowed me to take a step back from the tournament, which to me has become a double-edged sword. It’s a blessing to be here, to keep advancing, but at the same time, the anxiety of going home, of the season and players’ collegiate careers ending is a level of stress I don’t think humans are prepared for from an evolutionary standpoint. I hardly see how putting ourselves through the grinder year after year helps humanity at all. From a social aspect, it is clear we as coaches serve some kind of role, and the role does in fact assist in the ability to attain food, a necessity in terms of survival, but if an event occurred that is so shattering, the voice of God, then would what I have been doing, getting young men to put a ball through a raised net, really in any way help humanity find the way forward? Like I said, discussing something different for a change during this tournament has really helped with my mindset, and allowed me to keep my focus during the games.
If something is to dramatically change my plans for the future, this year’s tournament travels have definitely prepared me for life in the NBA. The games have been all over the place. In the first round, we were in Boise, Idaho. The next round in the regional, for as far as I can tell we haven’t changed brackets, took us across the country to Tampa, Florida. Forget about a day to practice. We almost didn’t have time to grab a bite to eat before getting on the charter. All we could do was analyze footage on the plane. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, we are scheduled to play five days later here at the Sommet Center in Nashville against the Memphis Tigers, who are a 6 seed, may I remind you, but are enjoying 1 seed home court advantage. The hours on the road can frazzle the players’ psyches. So rather than going back to Macomb only to force them to do the same thing again in one 24 hour cycle, I booked the team into a hotel here in Nashville. I knew the university wasn’t going to like it, but at this point, I was going to make it clear that to keep me, they couldn’t be nickeling and diming me with everything, regardless of who is in charge. It is also the phone calls with Seattle and its mystery benefactor, who I’m starting to believe may just be Bill Gates, which has given me the courage to do what I’m doing. I have always been a players’ coach, and looking at my players after the Gonzaga game, I was not going to put their minds on the grindstone again by scuttling them through one city to another to another, just to save a sum of money while they made a small fortune for the university, one which they would never see, O’Bannon ruling or not. It made me think of the slogan of the hotel we are all staying in. Who’s taking care of you? Indeed.
It’s easy to complain, something I find myself doing a lot too often now that I’ve been coaching past ten years, but with everything occurring this year, the whole thing could have been called off. The NBA was suspended, along with the NHL. Major League Baseball postponed their season opener. Even spring camp for football has been canceled. For once, something else put all the madness into March, and it wasn’t college basketball. I really thought this was going to be the year collegiate sports was going to change, too. I had no idea that the change I am expecting would start from something completely out of the conversation. It just goes to prove that nothing is a closed circuit. We really are one.
Even if I anticipated change in the air, that doesn’t mean I would be ready for it, or even open to it for that matter. It’s not about not wanting change, but what that change may be that worries me. After doing something for enough time, a person gets used to the routine, whether it is good or not. For example, I had believed that there is a reason the tournament splits into four regions, other than just the expansion of the tournament. We are the 7 seed in the West Regional. That should mean all of our games up to the Final Four should be played somewhere in relation to the western area. Travel costs and time should also be in relation to that. The changes to the tournament this year are most likely predicated on trying to contain or prevent the spread of the contagion plaguing the nation, the world currently. Well, let’s hope the incredible strain I and my players have to bear, not to mention everyone else involved in this year’s tournament, will give the equivalent amount of relief to everyone watching it. Even under these kinds of situations, we are able to persevere. I’d like to think that is the real message we are able to convey throughout all of this. At least, the optimist in me hopes so.
I think it is safe to say that the gate to the third stage of history is opening before us, before me especially. Demanding change and accepting the results of that change are two completely different things. It would be nice to think that what we thought of before demanding change actually is the change we get. That just isn’t how the world works, though. The resistance to change is always more numerous than the agents of change.
Personally, entering into a new paradigm where I am in far less control of circumstances frightens me. Here, I’ve been able to recruit the players that I want, good kids from good families. I have coached with the chance to tinker with different concepts to the game for the majority of my career without the weight of experts or specialists of any one concept bogging me down. It allowed me to create my own form of playing basketball, which again I have the freedom to tinker with, as I had earlier this year with Billy. If I was at UCLA, I would always have to look up at John Wooden, and try to climb out of the vast shadow such a man has cast.
We aren’t talking about another college program, though. I’d be stepping into the spotlight, and as if that isn’t enough pressure. I’d have to cobble together the best organization possible without having much input into the parts that would be coming in year in and year out. Carmelo Anthony to the Knicks was a disaster for his career. Allen Iverson to the Pistons was another one.
Not all of them end terribly, though. Kawhi Leonard rewarded the Toronto Raptors with their first NBA title before he bolted to the Clippers. Gary Payton and Karl Malone got to the NBA Finals again. It wasn’t a complete success, but historically-speaking, there’s no way anyone can say that had been a failure. Just like with the ’98 Bulls, however, the core of the team was dismantled the following year.
That is a reality that awaits for me, whether I want to think about it or not. People spend millions of dollars trying to make millions more. They have short tempers. They have the most unrealistic expectations. They expect the most amount of work out of their staff, or they are willing to find new staff. Am I ready for all that? I don’t even have time to think about it. I’ve got the Memphis Tigers in two days.
March 27th
Nashville, TN
I would say being in the Sweet Sixteen in the NCAA Tournament is very similar to when a person turns sixteen. I don’t know if I’d call it sweet, as much as bittersweet. The term is a reference to an old milestone that nobody really likes to think about anymore. Many people think of a young girl’s sixteenth birthday party. In other cultures, the age is younger, at fifteen, and is called a quinceanera. Both of them originally were meant to introduce the young women turning of age into the world of adults, hence the word debutante often accompanying such an occurrence. These young girls debuted on that night. Debuting into what? Into a new world view, into a new life cycle, and hopefully, into a better place. Most of the time, whatever the dreams of a sixteen-year old are, they rarely come true. There is one place they do, though.
In the Sweet Sixteen, this is where sportscasters and sportswriters borrow from the origin of the phrase even more, and start calling the mid-major programs Cinderella teams. Again, the phrase is bittersweet. It is both a praise as well as an affront. Congratulations, you are one of the best sixteen teams in the country. I have no idea how your team feels it deserves to be here, though. Hopefully, this is where things will get better for your school. The last bit does seem to be rather fair, as it has been for me, and many of us had debuted to the country as a whole for the first time here. It had been the case for Butler until Brad Stevens left, as it had been for Mark Few at Gonzaga. Coaches at mid-majors stay on longer. The turnover rate on coaches at the Power-Fives is much higher than that of a mid-major. That fact alone is a major reason not to count mid-majors out. The programs have consistency. If a coach at a high-major stays for a while, then that consistency turns out to be a success. For example, Coach Tom Izzo of Michigan State only had one recruiting class never reach the Final Four. Coach Tom Izzo is a legend, influencing the game in his own way. The same could also be said about Coach John Calipari. His Dribble Drive Motion Offense has had so much influence over the modern game. By beating him, I was hoping to also do the same.
Our Sweet Sixteen match took place at the Sommet Center. Fortunately, the winner could stay put, since Sunday’s Elite Eight game would be here, too. The West Regional is down to just four teams, after all. Other than us and Memphis, Kansas and St. Joseph’s are also here. Both of them would be looking for revenge since I had beaten them earlier this season, especially Kansas. I talk as if I don’t have to worry about Memphis. Looking ahead can be viewed as arrogance. Pride comes before the fall.
Like all Calipari teams, the player to look out for is his point guard. This year is no different. Senior guard Jamie Dukes is 5’11”, 192lbs, and is one of the best point guards in the country. We have a guy very similar to him. Even better, if I can be so bold. Size-wise, I felt we had the advantage in the frontcourt. Our wings were pretty even. I was going to need Najeeb, Raymond, and Trevor to do work.
Trevor tipped the ball to Bert, who handed it off to Billy, who passed it to Ime, who then passed it back to Bert at the wing. Off a Trevor screen, Bert found Ime cutting to the basket, and he scored from four feet out. The first lead of the game belonged to us. Ime, Bert, and Billy would combine to score our first fifteen points. Najeeb put the ball home for the first Leatherneck Big score, to put us up 17-8 after three and a half minutes of play. The run came early this game. My decision to come here directly from Tampa was paying off.
Memphis would get back into the game, however. In this round, the difference is always more about defensive execution than about offensive execution. With 13:30 to go, the Tigers tied the score up at 21 apiece. I took a chance and put Borislav in for Ime. Ime had been so hot from the get-go, already over 10 points. After a long attempt from about 26 feet by Najeeb, Memphis took the lead with a shot behind the arc. We had squandered that first run. Teams at this level will punch you in the mouth. I wanted to see how they were going to respond to it.
I wanted to go back into Trevor. As the biggest man on the floor, the Tigers weren’t going to be able to handle his bulk. I called Raymond to go in for Najeeb. With Borislav in the game instead of Ime, there was a higher chance the offense would go into the blocks. They could keep trying to punch us if they wanted, but I was going to get the biggest guys out in the front to absorb all the blows. It began working. Trevor was finishing, putting back everyone’s attempts, and rejecting all the soft stuff Memphis floated up. He had retaken the lead for us single-handedly, 29-26.
At the end of the first quarto, I got both Ime and Najeeb back in. Our starters had given us such a great run at the beginning of the game, I felt they had another one in them before the end of the half. I was right. Billy was more comfortable with Ime than with Borislav, and started finding his shot. Trevor’s interior defense was the key though, sparking transitions. Before I could even blink, we were up 42-31.
Memphis couldn’t stop the bleeding this time. They had no way to deal with Trevor. Once he understood he was the baddest dude in the game, he turned it on defensively, getting his hands on balls either by blocking or rebounding. A gorgeous half-court bounce pass from Bert to Ime for the And-1 pushed the lead to 47-31 with over six minutes to go in the first half.
Our defense was everywhere. When Trevor’s this intimidating, we can afford to put incredible pressure on the perimeter, leading to turnovers and fast break points. The Tigers wouldn’t be able to score again until a little over four and a half to go. By then, they were already down by twenty points, 54-34. As fun as it would have been to see them play through this run, I had to take the starters out to rest them for the second half. We still had a lot of basketball ahead of us. At over two minutes before the intermission, the starters were sitting. They had scored a total of 62 points.
Garik Frye found himself wide open at the wing, as he usually did. This time, maybe because everyone was making baskets, he took the shot, and drilled the three. We held the ball for the last shot of the half. Diondre passed it to Raymond, who passed it to Frye on the baseline. As the defense rotated over, Frye kicked the pass outside to Borislav, who was about three feet beyond the arc. He drilled it as the buzzer went off. We had played perhaps the most perfect first half in all of college basketball this year. Memphis had a hell of a mountain to climb to come back from a 71-40 deficit.
We had shot a blistering 72% from the field, including 11 of 16 from 3PT range. We also outrebounded the Tigers 18 to 13, thanks to Trevor. From beyond the arc, Memphis didn’t do so poorly, hitting 6 of 11, but other than that, we held them to only 38% and gave up two free throws.
We were up by so much that during the break, I decided to do a little math. Up to this point, all the scoring was pretty much from the starters. In one half, everyone but Najeeb, who only had 2 points, had surpassed their season averages. Bert scored 19, Ime 20, Billy 11, and the best player on the court tonight, Trevor had a stat line of 10 points, 7 boards, 5 blocks, and an assist for the cherry on top. If they returned to the game, there was always the possibility that Trevor would be lackadaisical because of his first half performance, and that would give Memphis a chance to get back in the game. And offensively, how much could they all possibly score? Ime and Bert could probably get thirty each, Najeeb would score at least ten more, as would Billy and Trevor. However, Memphis wasn’t going to sit tight and watch the ball go in the hoop. They would make adjustments. Shouldn’t I do the same?
By putting the bench in, I was getting players eager to showcase their abilities. I didn’t expect them to dominate. The starters had already done that. I wanted them to show me they weren’t afraid to play on the big stage, the same way they had in the Summit Tournament. Also, throwing new bodies out at Memphis was going to make them feel our team out all over again. Meanwhile, our guys have been watching all of them, Dukes, Weaver, Nava, Crandle, and Elias the whole game. They were aware of the Tigers’ tendencies. No coach in the history of the game would have done this. That thought only made me want to do it more.
I had Raymond, Orien, and Frye as my frontcourt, and Diondre and Borislav playing the guards. Depending on how they played the front half of the third quarto, I’d tell the starters whether to put on their Hyperdrive sleeves or not. It was slightly disappointing to watch Memphis score seven points in less than two minutes. They still had a mountain to climb, so there was no point in making my second unit feel nervous. At the fifteen minute mark, Memphis outscored us fourteen to seven, cutting into the lead, 77-54. They had skimmed eight points off. We were still ahead by twenty-three. I kept them in.
Diondre got into a groove, and hit several outside shots to keep the cushion above twenty. As we entered the fourth and final quarto, we were up 92-66. The starters were finished. Ten sleeves went up. I think that inspired the bench. They knew I was going to let them play it out. It wasn’t impossible to erase a twenty-six point lead, but it wasn’t going to be a walk in the park. The pressure of playing behind for so long, really behind, might have been enough to crush Memphis’ spirit. Orien’s put-back after two blocked attempts had put us over a hundred with seven and a half minutes left. Memphis would never even reach triple digits. The game ended with the score at 119-99. Diondre rebounded from the Gonzaga game by scoring 14. Orien had 12. The two of them alone met the usual bench quota. The second team Leathernecks had played the whole second half, and although they were outscored 48-59, they had just shown the country that there were no free lunches in Western Illinois. Tonight, there would be. The Player of the Game was Bert, but for me, the game ball went to Trevor. He had set the tempo, and he owned his area of the court.
We are moving on. I have another game in two days to prepare for, and this time, I’ll have fully rested starters. I am going to need it against Kansas. After getting to the Elite Eight three times now, I prefer not being the best projected team in the bracket. There was only one direction for them to go in. We, on the other hand, could keep going up. In all seriousness, I am extremely nervous for this game. If we win, I still have the chance to make a choice. If we came up short before reaching the Final Four, that choice could be made for me.
March 28th
Nashville, TN
I had set curfew at nine o’clock for tonight. The players weren’t too fond of that. We had never had curfew so early, so I could understand their dejection. I’m not worried that they would get into trouble, but trouble is a broad range when we are this far away from home, and the only thing the locals knew about us was the whipping we had just put on their home team. I knew my players had good sense, but part of having good sense is to know how to avoid extenuating circumstances, and sometimes it is my job as their head coach to keep them safe. Besides, their remonstrations of, “This is Nashville, the music capital of America,” weren’t making any impact on me whatsoever.
I wondered how encompassing that title truly is, especially with how much music has changed. Elvis Pressley would never walk through its doors, or enter its buildings any longer. According to the rumors, he’ll never get off its toilets, either. How many of my players even cared about Elvis? I certainly don’t, no offense to the man or any of his fans. How long are we really supposed to hold a torch for a person after they can no longer hold it for themselves?
There was a lot of chatter about the Final Four at the team dinner tonight, before I laid the kybosh on them doing anything someone else might consider unsightly. The upperclassmen all remember what it was like to get there. The moment we stood on the ladder and cut down the net after defeating the Florida Gators was ingrained into their memories, since they had been the first to cut it. Billy was so nervous being the first player among them, but the rules state it should go by age, and he was the youngest member as a redshirt freshman. Then it was Ime, followed by Najeeb, then Trevor, Bert, and Nikola. The rest of the team was composed of seniors. Ljubisa Copeland was the first among that class, followed by Jordi Geli Holden, and then Armein Amous. Lubos Hatten won the right to be the last player by beating Joseph Bowens at rock-scissors-paper. The last one belonged to me, and I snipped the whole net down. It was the third one I ever cut, and I knew exactly where it deserved to go, around my neck, where I wore it for about an hour, even doing interviews with it as Dawn Staley had. Some felt I was mocking her. Nothing could be further from the truth. I had heard enough vitriol on the airwaves that I wanted to take the attention away from her. Besides, regardless of what anybody wants to say, we earned the right to do so, if that was what pleased us. If they didn’t like it, then they had to win a title first, and then they could say something about the rules.
The bench knew what we were talking about, since watching us on television cutting it down was the reason they had decided to come to WIU in the first place. They wondered why the winning team wasn’t allowed to cut down the other net as well, since there were two of them. Everyone laughed, and I didn’t really know what to say about it at the time, whether to scold or praise them for their greed.
I had also been informed that our game would be the later of the two played. That had been the case when we last made it to the Final Four. We had been everyone’s darling, or everyone’s adversary. We were basically must-see TV. Since we had been the overall 1 seed and had an unbeaten record up to that point, we were always playing in primetime. That was something I hadn’t been too pleased about. Through the course of the tournament, every game we played was a late game. Late games meant getting to bed late. All the shuffling about on such a short schedule made changes in rhythms I felt had affected us and contributed to the amount of energy we had or didn’t have, along with the players playing almost the full game. Needless to say, I wasn’t too happy about the news.
I wouldn’t be able to control what happens after a game. If we lose, then we all mope together and act really sad about not getting to cut down the net. Or, if and depending on how we lose, maybe I will let the players sneak back into the Sommet Center when everyone and all the cameras are gone to cut down the other net, just out of spite to Bill Self. But if we win, I won’t be able to tell you the number of interviews every member of the team will be asked for, or what our media duties are, or even what kind of a curfew I can give them then for winning the West Regional Finals. It would all be out of my control. Who knows what our sleep cycle will look like then? It’ll definitely be a mess, and then we might have a repeat of two years before against Michigan State, except this time it will be the winner of UCLA and Louisville we’ll have to face. Even though I feel we are a better team than when we lost to the Cardinals earlier this year, we had still lost to them, when they were the No.1 ranked team in the nation. As for UCLA, they are the No.1 overall team in the tournament. Either way, we would be underdogs. We would need all the sleep we can get.
So I didn’t care about the arguments I heard when I issued the curfew. If they wanted to get to the Final Four, and to give them the best shot of beating the team we’d be facing for a shot at this year’s national title, to make PURPLE REIGN a reality, they’d all better be in their hotel room by 9 o’clock.
March 29th
Nashville, TN
Before the game began, I had a word with redshirt freshman Roberto Djordjevic. He hadn’t been getting into the NCAA tournament games so much, and felt he could help. Although all players think that way, not all of them put their money where their mouths are. Even during the Memphis massacre, he had played nine minutes, while the rest of the second unit got to play the whole second half. I reminded him that he only scored 2 points and took 3 shots during those nine minutes. He needs to learn to be patient. He has the skill we need, and his time will come. He might be from San Antonio, but he is no Deke Van. Deke had scored 8 points and 8 rebounds in the first NCAA tournament game he played, against the Miami Hurricanes. Now for a positive message, as per the principles of the Positive Coaching Alliance; I reminded Roberto that when we had played Kansas during the regular season, he had played just eleven minutes, but given us 11 points. He was more than capable of bringing his game up to that level again, for whatever amount of minutes he got.
Jayhawks shooting guard Roburt House, who had played really well against us back in December, had won the award for the best NCAA Player of the Year. He had been able to shoot over Ime whenever he wanted. I wouldn’t mind as long as Ime also went on the offensive. He has been the difference in our playoff games. We can’t have him not being his best self, and not looking for his shot. It’s hard to shut down the best player in the country, but Roburt House will get tired just like every other player on the court. I wanted to take him all the way down to zero if possible.
I was walking to my seat when I overheard sideline reporter Tracy Wolfson say that during the pre-game interview, Bill Self had guaranteed a trip to the Final Four. All I had said was how much I was looking forward to playing the Jayhawks because of how difficult it was to defend their execution on offense, and that I hope everyone watching would enjoy the game. I also added a Stay safe message. I found it better to let the players and the fans do the trash-talking once the game began. If Bill was trying to create a stir, he had certainly done so. If he was trying to inspire confidence in his team, and shake our beliefs, it had fired us up instead. Why shouldn’t it? I have a winning record versus Bill Self, and in the NCAA Tournament, am a perfect 2-0, a twenty point win in the national championship game back in 2015, and a thirty point victory in the 2018 sweet sixteen. It isn’t me who needs a confidence boost. If Bill was looking to get into my head, the only thing that statement had done was let me realize how far into his head I was. I was in his thoughts so much he might as well have charged me rent. When he closed his eyes, I was in his dreams. That is the only place where he could get a win.
Other than against Roburt House, we had the size advantage. Billy is bigger than 6’2” junior Chevon Cassler. Bert although shorter than junior Quincy Peterson by an inch, outweighed him by roughly twenty pounds. Jeff Walsh is taller and heavier than Najeeb, but I felt Najeeb was going to own the 6’10” 250 lbs sophomore. Jayhawk senior center, Fredrick Morban, gave up three inches and almost thirty pounds to Trevor. He had fouled out early in our first meeting, too. It would be a long day if Trevor could make him remember that. I told the kids what Coach Self had said before the game, and reminded them of his record against the Leathernecks in March. The last thing I said before they went out on the floor was, “We might as well beat him in the Elite Eight as well.”
The first points of the game was an alley-oop lay-up from Billy to Bert in transition. Bert had just rebounded Roburt House’s open shot attempt. I could hear Bill saying something on the other end, but it didn’t sound like it was about me anymore. Things got tough after that. Neither team was getting anything inside. Trevor, playing well on the glass and on defense, also missed a shot or two close to the basket. After almost five minutes of play and the score 7-4 in our favor, I subbed both him and Najeeb out. Raymond and Orien were getting early action. Bert was pretty much our entire offense again in the first quarto. I took preventative measures and put Diondre in for Billy, so Bert could havea break later on.
Diondre sparked us on a little run. Borislav and our starting bigs returned during Ime’s free throw shots, and Najeeb grabbed his miss and scored the put-back. We were up seven. Najeeb’s presence was clearly being felt. A moment later, a Borislav shot from beyond the arc pushed it to 21-11. With 6:40 before halftime, I subbed Billy and Bert back in. We had our starters to take us into the break, everyone with some rest. It wasn’t exactly load management, but we were far fresher than Kansas.
Trevor’s blocked shot sparked another basket in transition. The run continued. Trevor owned the lane against the Jayhawks. Even when we were missing, we were winning. Billy missed his second free throw, only for Trevor to grab the board and put it home. We had just doubled up the score, 34-17.
Bill Self wasn’t feeling so great any more. I sat quietly. There was no point in drawing attention to myself. The score was doing it for me. With four minutes left, the score was still doubled up at 40-20, again we had pushed the lead to twenty against the Jayhawks in a playoff game.
They would make a little run to close within ten at halftime, 48-38, but we were clearly wearing them out. Teams playing from behind have to use up their energy just to get back in the game. As long as we forced them to play defense, the pressure was still on them to exert themselves to take the lead. I’ll give it to Bill. He could have fell apart like Memphis did. Instead, he regrouped.
We were having an efficient game, shooting 58% from the field. Forcing Kansas into 7 turnovers was what allowed us to go on our run, but we let them off the hook by missing our free throws, and from players who usually sunk all of them. It’s not like Ben Wallace was on the roster. 4 of 9 from the charity stripe is enough to hurt a team.
Bert led the team with 12 and Trevor had 10. Najeeb, although he only scored 4 points in the first half, had 11 rebounds. I expected Ime and Billy to shine in the second half, Ime wasn’t going to be satisfied with 6 points, and Billy can do a lot more damage than 3 points. None of their players were in double-digits, and House, the college game’s best player in 2020, had been completely shut out.
For most games, I do my best to exhibit as much composure as possible. Most referees find me agreeable. It helps when I want to point something out since I haven’t been whining about every single call. I asked the head umpire why he thought I had taken my starting big men out so early in the first half. He said he had been curious about that as well. I explained that they had both suffered cheap shots from the Jayhawks’ players, but rather than fighting for a call the refs didn’t see, they were hoping I’d let the guys who mattered know, when the chance presented itself. He smiled and thanked me. This approach doesn’t work on all referees, but if you show them you understand they are doing their best, most of them will heed your words. Some people call it politicking. I prefer to see it as being charismatic, or more importantly, human.
Trevor and Ime picked up right where they left off early in the second half, hitting jumpers and blocking shots. Ime scored ten points in the first two minutes, and Trevor bothered two shots. Najeeb grabbed more boards and collected a steal to push the lead back to twenty, 58-38. In the stands, a group of fans began yelling, “Purple reign! Purple reign! Purple reign!” It had to be family members, because no one else would have been allowed to know the messages on our banners.
Midway through the third quarto, Roburt House began to pick things up, scoring eight points. Ime had been shutting him out, and they kept switching him over to Billy. House was reminding everyone why he was chosen as the best collegiate athlete in the nation, scoring five points in a minute. He cut the gap back to within ten, 67-57.
Billy had heard enough from Chevon Cassler and pushed the lead to 73-59. I rested Najeeb and Bert to start the fourth quarto. On the floor were Billy, Diondre, Borislav, Raymond, and Trevor. They had let Kansas get back to ten points. I didn’t want to give Kansas any mini-victories. I pulled Trevor, Billy, Diondre, and Ime. Bert and Najeeb re-entered only after a mere two minutes went by. They immediately pushed the lead back to fourteen, 82-68.
Bert looked like Champion Leatherneck Phil Powell out there, getting a hand in the passing lanes and knocking down threes. Ime was tired of how much Verne Lundquist and Bill Raftery were talking about Roburt House, especially since he completely outplaying him. The only thing that disappointed me as we entered the final five minutes of the game was how the Jayhawk defense was able to force Borislav into two backcourt violations. He was rattled, and he can’t handle being rattled. I sent Billy back.
In the last three minutes, we outscored Kansas 7-3 to finish them off 95-75, another twenty point victory. Bert was Player of the Game again, to no one’s surprise. During the handshake, I was tempted to bring up the remark about the Final Four, but decided against it. That was something my 25 year-old self would have done. I didn’t need to. Forty minutes of basketball had done all the talking for me. My 7 seed Leathernecks beat out his 1 seed Jayhawks for the third time in tournament play.
Ime led all scorers with 25, Bert had 22, Trevor scored 18, and Najeeb and Billy both had 8, but the other things they had done made the biggest impact. Billy had 11 assists, finding all the open players, especially Ime. Najeeb had 3 steals and 21 rebounds. Jeff Walsh, the one defending him, was three inches taller. It’s not the size of the dog in the fight, but the fight in the dog. Jeff didn’t even try to stand his ground. If we were still in Tampa, they had laws to protect him from what Najeeb had just done. All around though, the team defense was amazing. We also blocked them 6 times. I didn’t end up playing Roberto. I didn’t end up playing Frye, either. If they were upset, they cheered up really quickly.
The moment the whole second unit was waiting for had come. We talked about it before the game, and now it had come true. Up first on the ladder was Borislav, then Frye, then Roberto. Orien, Diondre, and Raymond got their pieces of the net before we got to the starters. Billy snipped, and passed the scissors to Najeeb, then to Trevor, then to Ime. Bert passed it to me. After taking down this one, I had the fourth one for all the corners in my office. What would I do with a fifth?
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