Can tonight’s NCAA Tournament games possibly live up to what we witnessed Thursday? Words are somehow not enough to describe what happened in the Sweet 16 games last night. But if you somehow were going to try and describe three of the most amazing games you’ve ever seen, where would you even start?
Would it be Texas beating West Virginia by thismuch on a three-pointer at the buzzer by Kenton Paulino for the 74-71 win? Or would you talk about West Virginia’s Kevin Pittsnogle draining the game-tying three with five seconds left, after having his nose busted open with a 1:29 left? How about Pittsnogle telling trainers to “shove anything up there” (referring to his nose) to stop the bleeding? It was like Rocky telling Mickey, “Cut me Mick, cut me.”
And that was just one game.
Who will ever forget the sight of Gonzaga All-American Adam Morrison collapsing on the floor and sobbing uncontrollably after the Zag’s blew a nine-point lead over the final three minutes (after being up 17) to inexplicably lose to UCLA 73-71?
It was an unbelievable finish to an incredible night—perhaps one of the single best nights in Tournament history. It was a night that began with Duke senior All-American J.J. Redick being put on lockdown by LSU and the Tigers taking down the overall number one seed 62-54.
As I said yesterday, this tournament is about stars, known and unexpected—and thrilling finished. It never disappoints—unless you lose a heartbreaker.
Everything was left all out on the floor
Some “Moore” thoughts on last night’s games:
–As deeply as I sympathized with J.J. Redick as he came off the court in tears for the standard hug from Coach K, reality finally showed us what kind of pro Redick will be in the NBA and for the U.S. World team. Garrett Temple, an athletic freshman from Baton Rouge who is the third member of his family to play for the Tigers, effectively shut down the Redick for 39 minutes, forcing him into bad shots and awkward positions.
Redick has a hard time creating his own shot—something LSU made sure he didn’t do and even when he did, they made it even harder for him to get a decent look. Redick ended up 3-for-18, including just 3-of-9 from three point range. He was extremely frustrated at times—but he wasn’t being fouled, he was just forced into throwing up bad shots, which makes me wonder how he’ll handle the longer, more athletic players in the NBA or in international play.
–- I certainly hope that Duke and Redick’s post-game comments about the “physical” nature of LSU’s defense was not in any way the Blue Devils complaining about the officiating, not after some of the phantom calls that went in favor of them all night. You know the officiating might be a little bad when Jay “Duke-Bias” Bilas says that Sheldon Williams is getting away with a push and #### Enberg calls Thomas’ and Davis’ fourth fouls “ticky-tac”. But according to Temple after the game, Redick spent a lot of time complaining to the officials about non-calls. On second thought, I don’t have any sympathy for him.
–-The reason I picked LSU to go to the Final Four before the tournament started was because they remind me so much of the classic surprise tournament team: they’re young, athletic and quick. Add to that Darrel Mitchell, the one guy who they go to in clutch positions, like when LSU trailed 45-40 as Duke was on a mini-run. Plus, they’ve got that “we don’t really know we don’t belong here” vibe. Coach John Brady just lets them play and rolls with their mistakes.
–-LSU’s Tyrus Thomas might be next in line of fabulous freshmen to breakout in the NCAA Tournament (Pervis Ellison, Derrick Coleman, Grant Hill and Mike Bibby come to mind). I watched him play earlier this season, but he really is one of the most incredible athletes I’ve seen in college basketball this season. He was everywhere—even when he messed up, he was doing something spectacular. Thomas had 9 points, 13 rebounds and blocked five shots (though it felt like 10) last night. Duke was thoroughly intimidated when they shot from inside the lane because of him and Glen Davis.
—It’s sad to see Pittsnogle and West Virginia go out. Who doesn’t love a tattooed 6’11” white guy shooting threes? He had his own catchphrase—“Pittsnogled”—and in the final minute and a half of his college career, he almost did it again.
—Add Kenton Paulino of Texas to that mythical list of players I mentioned yesterday, who enjoy the greatest moment of their Sports life now. And how about the Texas coach Rick Barnes deciding not to call a time-out and push it up the floor? Let the boys play!
—With Gonzaga’s loss, we sadly bid adieu to the woman I’ve nicknamed “The Zag Hag”. You might know her as the woman who screamed like a banshee throughout Gonzaga’s NCAA Tournament run. Last weekend, I just assumed there was some crazy fan screaming in the background—but sure enough, The Zag Hag was back last night, using her high pitched squeal every time UCLA touched the ball. I almost began muting the TV when UCLA had the ball—that woman haunted my dreams last night—but strangely, she’ll be missed.
The NCAA Tournament is unlike any other major sporting event because it can be broken down by the weekend. The initial madness of the first weekend leaves the players, teams, coaches and fans exhausted by usually living up to the “anything can happen” mantra. It fits like an Isotoner on Dan Marino.
The sweetest thing about the second weekend of the NCAA Tournament is what it does for players and coaches.
Just getting to the Sweet Sixteen landed Bruce Pearl a job at Tennessee last year. In fact, it’s rumored that last season as the head coach of UW-Milwaukee Pearl answered first round opponent and Alabama head coach Mike Gottfried’s question about how he was going to get a high profile just like this: “I’m going to beat you.” The rest is a sweat stained fairy tale.
In this tournament, the hype and hope is in full swing: we hype Roy Hibbert as the next great Georgetown center after his 37 points and 23 rebounds in two games. The hype machine has also hit Cinderella center Patrick O’Bryant, LSU trio Glen “Big Baby” Davis, Tyrus Thomas and Darren Mitchell and UConn’s Marcus Williams.
We hope ‘Great White Hope’ Adam Morrison pulls through with 35, ####s his head on the basketball a few dozen times and makes us question his sanity—all while being thrilled to the end. We hope to see Kevin Pittsnogle’s tattooed arm dropping in a game winning three, turning to the crowd and waving to his wife and new son.
All it does is continue the great tradition of the NCAA Tournament. We want these moments because it’s what we’ve become accustomed to in March.
It’s just what we’ve always done—we hyped Wally Sczerbiak from Miami (OH) in 1999 and celebrated Trajan Langdon of Duke that same year. We did the same thing with Michigan’s Fab Five and Duke’s Dynasty in 1992.
Sometimes we find that legendary star, like Michael Jordan in 1982. But most times, we find players who fill the role perfectly for that time and for that year, like Pervis Ellison, Keith Smart, Danny Manning, Rumeal Robinson, Donald Williams, Scotty Thurman, Tony Delk, Miles Simon, Khalid El-Amin, Mateen Cleeves and Shane Battier.
Our thirst for theatrics and drama in the tournament is so great; we should perhaps change the theme song from “One Shining Moment” to “I Need a Hero”.
A couple good games in this tournament make you a shooting star, the equivalent of the winner of American Idol. Sometimes they end up like Mark Hamill after the first Star Wars trilogy—they’ve tapped their potential and it’s all downhill.
The history of this tournament can make you think: Duke’s been the only team to repeat since UCLA. Then we realize that Kentucky nearly won three straight National Championships with nearly completely different rosters and coaches from 1996-1998. Then we think of what could have been for Arizona in the 1998 Tournament had George Karl and Rick Majerus not devised the only offense to stop the Wildcats’ Mike Bibby, Miles Simon, Jason Terry and Michael Dickerson—maybe they would have repeated.
It’s the little things, the details of each tournament that is the essence and the beauty of the NCAA Tournament—what happens and what could have been. Our job as s participants in this magical event—even if from the sidelines—is to create headlines and characters that we remember. In a way, it’s like a Hollywood production, and we’re the casting directors.
"Strumming my pain with his fingers...singing my life with his words...Killing me softly with his song, killing me softly..."--The Fugees
Every time I see Indiana University forward Marco Killingsworth play, that's what inevitably runs through my head, Lauren Hill and the Fugees singing about something that I barely understand the words to, much less understand the point to.
What else do I think of Killingsworth? I think his transfer from Auburn to IU looks su####ious at best. I think he plays for a terrible coach and a team that I used to follow during my childhood but now nearly detest.
And I think he's the nation's M.I.P (Most Important Player).
Slightly different from MVP. And I'm guessing that several of you out there "slightly" disagree.
But after watching Killingsworth dominate another team last night, this time (5) Illinois, I'm under the impression that he might just be the most important College Basketball player in the country right now. That's right--Marco Killingsworth, I presume.
Granted, he's not statistically rated in the Top 5 of any major category--Killingsworth is 85th in scoring, 102nd in rebounds--but he could very well be the nation's most important player for a multitude of reasons. He seems to be more of an intangibles type guy. Which makes him a perfect fit for M.I.P.
For M.I.P., there's just one category:
1) Importance To Team
Gonzaga's got everybody's favorite "Larry Bird look-alike" in Adam Morrison, who leads the nation in points per game at 28.3. As a junior, he's also guiding the Bulldogs to a Top Ten ranking and a 14-3 record. His team would be notably different and worse without him, but they'd still probably make the NCAA Tournament because of the weaker WCC and the current big-league status of Gonzaga.
Last week, Gonzaga coach Mark Few actually let point guard Derek Raivio look-off Morrison on a play designed specifically for him--and didn't rip Raivio a new one because Raivio hit the shot that followed the Morrison look-off.
Even though we're talking about Mike Davis here, even he knows where his bread and butter is. Do you think he'd let Roderick Wilmont or Marshall Strickland look off Killingsworth repeatedly? The ball goes into Killingsworth like it should and it stays there until he makes a move.
Think there's a reason that IU leads the nation in three point shooting and team field goal shooting? It's because of Killingsworth, even though he rarely ever takes a shot outside of fifteen feet. Most of the plays are designed for Killingsworth to touch the ball on the interior and evaluate his scoring options on the player guarding him.
He then sees if anyone's open on the perimeter. Let's just say by the stats that a few guys are open. When you have more open shots, your shooting percentages rise. I could go 5-8 shooting and drop about 13 points a game with Killingsworth drawing double teams and then dishing it back out.
Marco's the reason Indiana's winning, plain and simple. How else do you explain that this very team, this exact team was 15-14 last year, losing in the NIT first round and 14-15 in 2003-2004? The reason for the turnaround certainly isn't Davis coaching.
With Killingsworth, Indiana's a Top 15 team and now a virtual lock (unless Mike Davis does something to screw it up) to make the NCAA Tournament in March after two seasons in the NIT and a sub-.500 record last year.
Now I can hear those J.J. Redick backers shouting from the Cameron Indoor rooftop, "What about J.J.?" Redick currently sits fourth in the nation in scoring at 26.4 points per game. Impressive, yes. Certainly his 41 points against then #2 Texas was impressive. But he's not going anywhere in the value department averaging only two assists and 2 rebounds per game.
Plus, look at Duke's schedule; thus far it includes the likes of Davidson, Drexel, Valpo, UNC Greensboro and Bucknell. For every Memphis, Texas and IU on their schedule, they've got a card full of patsies. My point is merely that Redick's not taking on everyone's best on a nightly basis to the extent that Morrison and Killingsworth are.
The list of "worthies" could go on: Rudy #### from UConn has tons of potential, but you're not M.I.P. material if the point guard who missed the first part of the season (Marcus Williams) for some shady computer ordeal is considered more important to the Huskies than you are.
And let me just state for the record that I love Kevin Pittsnogle, the Bobaganosh from West Virginia. He's got the Mountaineers on an 11-game winning streak behind his near nightly double doubles.
But he's not as important to his team's fortunes as Marco Killingsworth is to Indiana's.
Or to Mike Davis.
Think about it: Davis was on the verge of being fired; ironically he's on a zero-tolerance policy with IU like his predecessor was, it's just this one has to do with wins and losses and making a certain NCAA Tournament.
Davis certainly doesn't help himself out when he tells reporters before the season to "reserve" their tickets to Indy for a Monday night game in April (implying that IU will be playing for the national championship). At that point, Hoosier fans everywhere were probably smacking their foreheads and actually saying, "I miss Bobby Knight--he would never have said something so dumb." Which is a paradox statement in itself.
The only way in which Davis helps out his cause is by continually throwing the ball into Killingsworth and praying for good things. Did you see Davis's mixed and odd reaction when it appeared Killingsworth wouldn't play last night because of severe back spasms? Davis hit Coaching Def-Con 2, easily. He was flipping out, wondering what his team would do without Marco providing power in the paint.
That's why Killingsworth is so important. He's saved Mike Davis from being exposed until at least the NCAA Tournament.
Killingsworth reminds me of Chris Webber in an odd way. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing, but he's got that look and that style of play that Webber had at Michigan. But here's the thing about Killingsworth, Webber, Pittsnogle or just about anyone else not a guard: they've got to have the ball in their hands to be effective, like a wide receiver in the NFL. If you don't get them the ball, they can't do anything. Give Steve Smith of the Carolina Panthers the ball 10-12 times a game he gives you 200-plus yards and a couple touchdowns.
So do we give the M.I.P. award to a "quarterback" like Redick, who's on a loaded team that would surely be Top 10 without him, or to a "wide receiver" like Killingsworth?
It's Killingsworth, I presume.
"Killing me softly with his rebounds, singing my life with his j...Killing me softly with his game, Killing me softly..."
About three
weeks ago, I sat on the edge of the bed with the TV on, stunned. The Monday night of
Thanksgiving week brought me something to really be thankful for--one of the
best games and performances of the College Basketball season between Gonzaga
and MichiganState in the Maui Invitational. It was
better than 90% of the games you'll see this entire season, including the NCAA
Tournament. For 55 minutes--two halves and three overtimes--the 'Zags and the
Spartans traded baskets (and more) until Gonzaga had won it 109-106 behind star
forward Adam Morrison's 43 points.
Delusional, either from lack of sleep or excitement from the game, I watched
the highlights and Morrison's post-game interview--and could have sworn I saw
Larry Bird. On the surface, Morrison
looks the part--guiding a mid-major power team with a good jump shot, floppy
hair and a 7th grade mustache. Just like Bird, he drops 40 plus on teams,
including those "dagger" shots which just buries the opposition late
in games. If you look hard enough, you can even see Morrison hold ball a little
bit like Bird did on his jumper.
For the next two weeks I kept tabs on Morrison, including watching hit the game
winning "Bank-Is-Open-On-Saturday's" three pointer against OklahomaState last weekend. For the season, he's
averaging 28.5 points, 6 rebounds and 1.4 assists per game. Bird's senior year
at IndianaState, as College Player of the Year, he
averaged 28.6 points, 14.9 rebounds and 5.5 assists per game (Basketball reference.com). Besides the points, there's no much
similarity in their games. But Morrison could be the next Larry Bird, right?
The problem isn't necessarily our infatuation with finding the "Next
Michael Jordan" or the "Next Larry Bird"--it's that we're only
looking for the next white Larry Bird and next black Michael Jordan. Why do we
automatically compare all athletes with former players of their own race? What
if, for example, Adam Morrison's really more comparable to Michael Cooper than
Larry Bird?
For years, even before Michael Jordan retired the first time, we started
comparing every hot college prospect with him. I remember it starting with
Kendall Gill when he was at Illinois
in 1989. It really got going with USC's Harold Miner a few years later--so much
so that we aptly nicknamed him "Baby Jordan". Turns out, that as a
pro, "Baby Jordan" stunk worse than a baby diaper.
Did we learn our lesson that there wouldn't be another Air Jordan? Of course
not. Since Miner, we've given the "Next Michael Jordan" tag to
Michael Finley, Vince Carter, Tracy McGrady, Kobe Bryant, Korleone Young,
Darius Miles and most notably, LeBron James. (Bonus points if you know who
Korleone Young is).
In 1998, as Kentucky was winning its second
NCAA Basketball Championship in three years, I compared UK's star guard Jeff Sheppard, who
is white, with former Lakers star Bryon Scott, who is black. I thought they
were both great leapers, good shooters and had similar quickness. No one agreed
with me. Maybe I was wrong, or maybe it was because I was comparing two players
of a different race.
In the NFL, Michael Vick is an "original" at the quarterback
position. For all my complaining about Vick as a quarterback, I will agree, he
is special. But when he's compared to other players, no one comes up with a
comparison likes this: "He's got Steve Young's legs and Joe Montana's
arm!" Can't he be a cross between two white players? Brian Urlacher of
the Bears is never compared to Lawrence Taylor--but they both knocked the
opposition into next week.
What makes us so uncomfortable with comparing athletes of a different race? We
should be able to look at the stats of a player and compare him with anyone
from that sport--it's disrespectful not to, really.
In 1999, I read an article comparing then University of Miami (OH) star Wally
Szczerbiak with Larry Bird, without specifically mentioning which parts of
their game were alike. To the best of my knowledge, Wally's World involves
shooting three's and lifting a lot of weights. The only thing it looks like
Bird ever lifted off a rack was a basketball.
If you compare the stats of Bird over his career with other players, know who
he's most similar to? Try Kevin Garnett, Magic Johnson, Clyde Drexler and Dirk
Nowitzki (Basketball-reference.com). Of that group, only Nowitzki, who
is white, is compared to Bird.
Last spring, as the NBA was debating the MVP Award, many argued that Shaquille
O'Neal was the most dominate player in the game since Jordan. He was
more valuable than any other player by far. While I agree with that, it doesn't
mean he automatically wins the MVP every year (especially when he missed more
games than Steve Nash).
If the argument is always who's the Most Valuable for their team overall in any
year and not any given year, then Shaq should have won over Nash. By that
policy, Jordan should have been MVP for every year from 1989-1998, even
the years he missed while playing minor league baseball--because it proved how
much the Bulls needed him.
But the reality is the MVP is given to the player who's Most Valuable to his
team in a given year, which is why Karl Malone won the award over Jordan in 1997 and Charles Barkley won over Jordan in 1993.
It's why Allen Iverson won the award as a point guard for the Sixers in
2001--but no one really had a problem with it then, even if Shaq was more
valuable to the Lakers that year than he was the Heat last year. How are Steve
Nash and Allen Iverson's MVP wins over Shaq any different, aside from race?
As basketball fans, we're always craving the "Next", whether that's
Magic, Michael or Larry. Why don't we just enjoy what we've got--which is the
first LeBron and the first Dirk. These guys, like all others, should ultimately
be judged on their stats and their performances, not on their skill level as it
compares to former players of the same race.
Maybe then we can put down the binoculars, enjoy each player for who and what
they are, and ultimately end the "Bird" Watch.