On The Last Shot Of The Season

So let's say that shot goes in. Let's say Gordon Hayward's 40-foot heave at the buzzer, instead of bouncing hard and then caroming off the rim, takes a sympathetic bounce and drops through the twine. Here is what we can say for certain:

A.) This would be, without question, the greatest shot ever made by a basketball player named Gordon.
B.) This would be, without question, the greatest and most beloved shot in college basketball history, if not in the history of American sports.

As it is, we are left to ache. Not in a long time can I remember feeling so terrible after watching a game in which I really had little or no stake (Meaning: Penn State was not directly or indirectly involved). Butler was clearly Duke's equal; in terms of gameplay, they did not deserve the mantle of underdog, but in terms of symbolism, they did, and that's what made Hayward's heave so deflating--we were thisclose to changing the perceptions that have guided college basketball for the past thirty years. We were one bounce away from "mid-majors" shedding that ridiculous label, one unkind rim away from invalidating every public utterance in the history of Billy Packer's career. It would have been a beautiful symbolic egalitarian moment, and of course, I hope it is anyway...I hope Butler's run* proves that coaching and fundamentals can trump raw talent, that maybe college basketball has reached that point that the NBA hit a few years ago, when carefully crafted European talent began to eclipse the raw egotism of the American game.

But it's also clear, as Charles Pierce writes, that the NCAA and The Powers That Be have no real stake in permitting such a transition to occur. Egalitarianism is fine in the early rounds, but there is a sense, at least among those who make decisions, that it is safer to craft a tournament that facilitates a Final Four that is nothing like this one, a Final Four in which storied programs meet storied programs and Gordon Hayward never even gets an opportunity to hurl that shot toward the heavens. Of course, I hope I'm wrong about this. I hope that somehow, paradoxically, a 96-team field proves an even more brutal slog for the top seeds, but the odds of that happening are not good. Miracles are called miracles for a reason.

*And to a lesser degree, we should credit Duke and its libertarian coach for developing talent, as well, since Jon Scheyer was an absolute joke two years earlier. But really, F 'em.

(Photo: Jeff Haynes/Reuters)

On the Curious Perception of Tonight's Game

OK, let me just try an experiment with numbers here, even though I vehemently dislike numbers. These are the RPI rankings of the teams Butler (#12 RPI) has defeated so far in the NCAA tournament:

UTEP: 38
Murray State: 57
Syracuse: 5
Kansas State: 6
Michigan State: 28

And here is the RPI rating of the teams Duke (#3 RPI) has beaten:

Ark. Pine-Bluff: 183
Cal: 20
Purdue: 16
Baylor: 9
West Virginia: 4

Now, given those numbers, Duke's run is certainly impressive. But Butler's is equally impressive. both teams defeated two teams ranked in the top ten in the RPI. Both teams defeated essentially interchangeable Big Ten squads crippled by the lost of one of their best players. Duke had that early victory over California, but also had the benefit of a first-round game against one of the lowest-seeded teams in the field. Also, Butler is playing this game at home, hasn't lost a game since Dec. 22; its worst loss of the season was to No. 62 Minnesota. Duke's worst loss of the season was to No. 98 North Carolina State.

All of which brings me to my point, which is that it would seem, at least to me, that these two teams are essentially evenly matched. And yet the point spread is seven, and one of the most reputable basketball columnists in the country, Pat Forde, is comparing this to Villanova-Georgetown and N.C. State-Houston. Is it merely because of the programs' histories? Is it because there is a large contingent of Americans who would prefer to set up Duke for an "epic" defeat? Is it because Butler's best player (and their coach) look like refugees from the Apple Dumpling Gang? Because otherwise, there really is no explanation for this.

Butler can win this game. And if they do win this game, it will certainly alter the perception of the "mid-major," and it could impact college basketball in lasting ways. But the victory itself would not be much of an upset at all.

On Duke and Irrational Animus

Eighteen years ago, a 23-year-old Buffalo native with a Patrick Bateman coiffure sunk a turnaround jump shot from the top of the key that changed college basketball forever. I don't remember harboring any ill feeling to Duke before then; to tell the truth, I'm not sure if I really dislike them now, or I have just bought into some sort of Reichstagian mass delusion fanned by the blogosphere.

Like most people, I cannot articulate any concrete reason for my periodic vitriol toward Duke; the only Duke graduate I really know is a friend from high school. (I've always liked Carolina more, largely because that shade of powder blue is the greatest color ever invented.) I never engaged much with the Duke lacrosse story. I was indifferent toward Laettner--if anything, I found his hubris kind of amusing. I liked Grant Hill (though, of course, he is generally regarded as the exception to the rule); I have no beef with Alaskan basketball prodigies or the offspring of Doug Collins. I believe Jay Bilas is an excellent color commentator, even when I disagree with him, and while I believe J.J. Redick was wildly overrated as a collegian, I never harbored any vitriol toward him. I thought Coach K's American Express ad ("I am leader who happens to coach basketball") was perhaps the most embarrassing moment in the program's history, but I also recognize that his teams regularly have graduation rates in the 90th percentile. In this way, the lazy comparison of Duke to the New York Yankees is ridiculous; if anything, Duke is the opposite of the Yankees. They are working in opposition to a system that has almost completely de-emphasized academic performance; in truth, Kentucky is far more the equivalent of the Yankees than Duke.

In fact, the only legitimate complaint I can muster about Duke is that they are on television far too often, and that when they are television, certain follically challenged broadcasters (ahem!) tend to latch on to a cult of personality that renders their games almost unwatchable. But if the worst thing about Duke is that they are overexposed, this is not really a good reason for wanting them to fail. Is it?

Of course, I'm not going to deny that there are other factors at work here, complicated issues that are almost impossible to discuss without saying something that can be misconceived or taken out of context. There is the underlying question of race, though it seems this has far more to do with class than with race; if the NCAA tournament is the epitomal populist sporting event, Duke has been branded as the perennial "elitist" candidate. It doesn't matter that Cornell is likely home to just as many elitists as Duke; by succeeding in opposition to the system for such a long period of time, Duke has essentially branded itself as a self-righteous ascetic among the sinners. Still, why should this bother me? I am a fan of Penn State football. For years, opposing coaches have dismissed Joe Paterno as preachy and self-righteous and even blatantly racist. Should I feel differently because Duke is a private school? Should I feel differently because of a perception of arrogance that cannot be rationally pinpointed, and that I have never actually experienced?

I shouldn't, I know. And yet I do feel that way. I do. I don't hate Duke all the time, but I've chosen to hate them this year, because they seem overrated, because in a year when the NCAA tournament has swung back toward unpredictable populism, Duke doesn't really belong in this moment. They aren't that good. They can't be that good. And those sentiments may be entirely irrational, but this is the beauty of sports--they allow us to embrace irrationality without explanation. Maybe I should be pulling for Duke, but I won't. And I don't have to tell you why.