We'll Always Have Hartford
For the last 19 years, mid-March has always been a very special time me. It's fair to say that I look forward to the NCAA Tournament the way some people look forward to Christmas.
In fact for me, college basketball is pretty much a one month sport that runs from March 1 to April 1. Everything prior to March in college basketball is - let's face it - irrelevant. Much like the NHL regular season.
The Road to the Final 4 is perhaps the best 3 weeks in sports. Unfortunately, though, they have yet to come up with a way to make those last 3 games as good as the first 32. By then, the upset factor is lost. The 'dogs are all gone. There can be no more shock and awe.
Wouldn't it be great if the NCAA borrowed a page from reality TV and gave two bracket castoffs (preferably two of the dreaded #12 seeds) the opportunity to come back to the "show" for one more shot. The ultimate losers' bracket, if you will.
Anyway, the tournament has always been the source of many great memories - Derek Wittenberg's shot, er alleyoop, which led to those memorable shots of Jimmy V looking for someone to hug, Princeton over UCLA, Chris Webber's T.O., Valpo, and last year's run by George Mason.
To say I'm partial to the underdogs would be an understateent. I suppose that's because an underdog took me to my first Dance and gave me three weeks that I'll never forget.
In March of 1988, I was a junior at the University of Richmond. Following a weekend in Hampton, VA, where the Spiders won the CAA title to earn a Tourney bid, we learned that Richmond would travel to Hartford to play the defending National Champion Indiana Hoosiers in the First Round. Bobby Knight. Keith Smart. A pretty tough draw for a school of just over 2500 students and no marquee names on its roster.
Indiana was Darth Vader to our Luke Skywalker (I realize with the prequels and all that that analogy probably no longer works, but hey, I'm a kid of the 70s not the 00s). They were the Dallas Cowboys, the Boston Celtics, the Yankees, the Russian Hockey team, and the German bobsled dynasty, all rolled into one.
However, we did have Dickie T. Dick Tarrant. The best male perm in sports. What a coach. In fact, in a pre-game interview, Bobby Knight quipped, "Dick Tarrant was a good coach before I even started coaching." And what a job he did preparing these guys. Richmond (23-6) was a #13 seed to Indiana's #4, so it wasn't quite David v. Goliath. But it was close. Richmond won 72-69.
Then it was Bobby Crimmins and the Rambling Wreck in the Second Round. And Tarrant had them ready to roll again. Another upset. 59-55. It blew the lid clean off of the University. No work was done for days. It was magnificent stuff.
Unfortunately, Cinderella's slipper fell off the following week at the Meadowlands to Temple. But for 3 weeks, everything stood still. For 3 weeks, tiny Richmond was at the epicenter of the biggest event in sports. We were on ESPN, CNN, even the cover of SI.
Truth is, the Spiders have authored some of the best upsets in NCAA Tournament history. They upset Charles Barkley and Auburn in 1984 as a #12 seed. The they were the first #15 seed to beat a #2 seed when they knocked off Syracuse in 1992. In 1998, they claimed a #3 seed by downing South Carolina 62-61.
Now you can't watch the Tournament from year to year without hearing about those great Spider upsets or seeing highlights from those great games. I know, I know, its not as if my alma mater won the Rose Bowl. However, we can claim our couple swatches of the quilt that is March Madness. That's pretty cool.
Because of my experiences, I have no interest in cheering on the Dukes, Kentuckys and UCLAs. Instead I enjoy rooting for Winthrop, Albany, North Texas and, of course, Fang Mitchell's Coppin State. Fang once said, "We'll play anyone, any where, any time."
And while Richmond may never see those successes again . . .
And while most of our players will never play basketball beyond graduation day . . .
And while my good buddy Rodney Rice, the last second hero of the win over Indiana, manages a Home Depot in Baltimore . . .
We'll always have Hartford.
And that's more than enough for me.
