Passing Down the Madness

I turned 12-years-old in March of 1992, but it was a friend’s 12th birthday party that I remember. We gathered at his house for revelry and merriment, but the party disintegrated into a tense mob of people crowded around one of those old TV’s that were built to look like wooden cabinets. It was the NCAA Regional finals, and the Cats were in overtime with a spot in the Final Four on the line. That in itself would make this a big deal, but this was something much greater. Kentucky had barely escaped the NCAA death penalty, and the Cats were coming off three long years of probation. This was, for many of the kids at this gathering, our first real taste of the tournament, and we were about to beat the defending national champions.

The first 44 minutes and 57.9 seconds of that game were glorious. At the time, most of the party goers only watched the final five minutes of regulation and then the overtime period, but I have gone back and watched the entire game several times. In fact, if you have the March Madness app, you can still watch the entire game on the app. We all know what happened during the final 2.1 seconds, so I’m not getting into that, but the lasting effect of that game was real. I had always enjoyed Kentucky basketball, but it never really caused great emotion within me until that moment. It was gut wrenching, but it began a thirst within me that could only be quenched by watching more. I was hooked.

The following season I filled out my first NCAA Tournament bracket; I cut it out of the front page of the sports section of the local newspaper. I kept it folded up in my pocket and took it everywhere with me throughout that month. The Cats were absolutely destroying teams as they marched to the Final Four, their first since I was 5-years-old, and I had no doubt they would be cutting down the nets. However, another overtime game meant another unfavorable result. Jamal Mashburn, the savior of Kentucky basketball and Pitino’s first big time recruit, fouled out, and that was all the Fab Five needed to move on. (while I typically find no joy in UNC winning anything, I did feel some small sense of sweet revenge when C Webb called a time out they didn’t have and cost them the title game.) As for my bracket, I didn’t win. I picked Kentucky to win the tournament, and I have done so every year since, with the exception of 2009 and 2013. I have been correct three times, although the Cats’ run to the Championship Game in 2014 as an 8 seed did win me three different pools, even though Shabazz Napier pulled a Kemba Walker and stole one from us all by himself. Even though we came up one game short that year, I’ll never forget the incredible run of game winning three pointers from the Harrison Twins; taking out undefeated Wichita St., arch rival Louisville, Michigan, and Wisconsin, all in the final seconds. It certainly got Ashley Judd excited.

My dad decided to pull me out of school and take me with him to the SEC Tournament in Memphis in 1994. We ate at the Rendezvous every day, and we saw the Cats take home yet another SEC Tournament title. This began a tradition of heading to the SEC Tournament for my birthday throughout high school and college, when it was typically held in Catlanta. The rest of the 90’s were a pretty great time for the Big Blue Nation. We were one overtime away from a three-peat, and those three Final Fours (two titles and a runner-up) were sandwiched by two Elite Eight appearances. Dad and I were at the Elite Eight game in 1995 when UK shot 28% and couldn’t throw a pebble into the ocean, but managed to cause 18 turnovers with that glorious press. (we still lost) Anyhoo, beginning with that game in 1992, this period is what really cultivated my love of college basketball; especially the NCAA Tournament.

When we had Sam and Virginia, I dreamed of developing their love for UK basketball as well. The day they were born, they were wearing tiny UK hats, one pink and one blue. They had tiny UK onesies. I even game them a tiny wildcat beanie baby. But, sadly, it was not to be. Virginia, while she roots for UK because she loves me, is actually a Virginia fan. (I guess you really can’t blame her there) Sam started out cheering for whichever team UK was playing against, just because he enjoyed competing with me. Then, thanks to his many friends, he became a die hard Clemson fan. (Better than a Gamecock fan, if I had to choose) He wears Clemson shirts pretty much everyday, and I’m fine with it. I get cheering for the local team. (that’s why I love Kentucky) But, Sam did inherit my love of basketball. I’ve taken him and Virginia to a bunch of Clemson basketball games, and we have season tickets to Furman basketball. I even coach both Sam and Virginia’s church league basketball teams. So, while they aren’t die hard UK fans, at least they love the game.

This season, Sam said he wanted to fill out a bracket. I was pretty pumped about it, and I was prepared to give all sorts of advice, but he had none of it. He wanted to do it himself, so he did. Remember when I cut out a bracket from the newspaper and kept it in my pocket? Well, Sam’s first experience was much different. He filled his out on his iPad using the ESPN app. I was able to enter him into my office pool, which I run, and my seminary pool, which I also run. I got him the March Madness app as well, and he was on that thing all the time. He could watch the games live and see highlights and scores of previous games. He went onto the bracket challenge app constantly to enter his bracket into public groups and check on his status in the pools I entered him in. Since Clemson didn’t make the tournament, he picked Virginia to win it all. You may think it was because of his sister, but really it was because they had only lost three games, which was fewer than the other teams. (can’t beat that logic) He ended up getting second place in my office pool, just behind the other person who picked Virginia. He did win my seminary pool, but that didn’t excite him much. The winner of my office pool received $140.00, while the winner of the seminary pool gets a free drink from each of the participants at our next gathering. I tried to lobby for them to give him the cash equivalent of a drink, but they were having none of it; he’s got a bunch of free Coke and milk coming his way. I really believe his downfall was partially his parents’ fault. Sam’s middle name is Bradley, so he has become a Bradley super fan ever since they made the tournament. We even watched them win their conference tournament on TV. So, naturally , he picked them to reach the Sweet 16. He was almost a genius, because they darn near knocked off Michigan St. in the first round, but it was not to be. Had he not picked them, he may have won the big money pool. We should have named him Samuel Michigan instead.

While the kids may love Clemson and Virginia and Bradley, we can all come together with our love of Furman basketball (go ‘Dins!) and our dislike for Duke. (at least I passed that on to them) Sam experienced this first hand last season when the four of us went to the Duke Clemson basketball game. Miraculously, to that point, Sam had never been to a Clemson game that they lost. Duke ended up pulling away at the end, and Sam was devastated. Real tears were flowing at the end, and, to make matters worse, our seats were surrounded by Duke fans. Sam kept yelling, “Stop cheering,” at them. We made it to our car, and we were inching our way out of the parking lot when a group of Duke fans came walking up next to us on their way to their car. Sam rolled down his window as they approached, and when they were right next to us, he, without yelling or screaming, calmly uttered the word,”Boo.” We had come full circle. He may have been five years younger than I was in 1992, and this may have just been a regular season game, but he too knew the pain of losing to Duke, and that has stayed with him.