Patrick St. Michel and I were joking on the shuttle up to Saturday’s men’s basketball game against Wisconsin about how badly we’d lose. The Badgers were ranked in the top 5 nationally. We hadn’t won a single Big Ten game yet.
But something miraculous happened Saturday – the stuff you won’t read in the recap. To everyone’s shock, we scored the game’s first basket and held a lead. Then we took the lead into halftime, thanks to a 6-0 surge to close the first half.
And for the first time in my five quarters at NU, Welsh-Ryan Arena felt like an actual part of the Big Ten. The students were shouting themselves hoarse as I’ve never heard them before. The Wisconsin fans – who filled up about two-thirds of Welsh-Ryan – mostly had a mixture of confusion and ambivalence upon their faces. But everyone in the house agreed on one thing: there’s no way in hell Northwestern’s beating the #4 ranked team in the country.
Except another funny thing happened. The ‘Cats came out after halftime with a fight I’ve never seen from Carmody’s group. (Even Carmody’s pacing took a comically agitated form throughout the game.) Our energetic zone defense had one of the nation’s most experienced teams playing out of sync. We pulled out steals and drove to the hoop unafraid of Wisconsin’s bigs. We were unfazed by the jeers from the overwhelming crowd of Badger fans. We fought back and refused to give up after Wisconsin’s Alando Tucker threw down a highlight reel dunk over multiple NU players. We didn’t quit and we played with the raw emotion every Northwestern fan longs for.
But it was that raw emotion – and the team’s inability to control it – that doomed us in the end. The game changed with about seven minutes to go. Vince Scott got tangled up with Wisconsin’s Marcus Landry in the backcourt as we advanced the ball following a defensive rebound. Both fell to the ground and it appeared Landry grabbed and held down Scott as Vince tried to get up. Vince ended up shoving Landry back down and screamed at him. And the student section – long critical of Scott’s unwillingness to fight for rebounds in the paint and his affinity for the three – roared its approval.
As soon as play resumed, the Wisconsin contingent booed at the top of their voices whenever Vince Scott touched the ball. And you could see the effect this abuse had not on just Scott, but the entire team. Suddenly, our offense fell apart, which I suspect had something to do with Scott’s ineffectiveness. (To Carmody’s defense, putting Ivan Tolic in the game probably would only made matters worse.) Vince took two threes during the rest of the game – one air ball and one which Landry blocked with authority.
And in the end, the Badgers won. Alando Tucker pounded his chest and roared at least twice and Marcus Landry raised his hands in celebration, as the sea of red screamed its approval. Most of the student section stared at the court in disbelief. And Vince Scott hung his head and looked about ready to pull a Tony Romo. I really felt for the guy.
Sports – my truest passion and, sometimes, my one reason for living – have reduced me to tears once in my entire life. Any Cubs fan can tell you about that fateful day in October 2003 – I don’t even want to type the guy’s name. No, I didn’t cry after today’s game, but…man, it hurt. Every student at today’s game could sense the feeling of perhaps the biggest victory in our team’s history. You could taste it, imagine the feeling of true pride for once. For us to let that slip away just kills me.
I’m grateful for the best 35 minutes of basketball I’ve experienced in person – and I’ve been to Jordan-era Bulls games, k? (Not playoffs, admittedly.) I know I’m dreaming and I’m being idealistic, but I’ll say it anyway. To borrow from U2, I had found what I was looking for during the first 35 minutes while watching all those crappy games against Loyola (Md.) and Western Michigan, while listening to the ‘Cats lose Tennessee Tech on the radio during break, while hearing about the ‘Cats almost losing to Wheaton freakin’ College. For 35 minutes – no, for 40 actually – I found a group of students who cared about the Wildcats as much as I do. I found passion in a school where I thought none existed. But most importantly, I saw a group of guys on the floor who truly cared, who competed, and who stayed with one of the best teams in the nation.
But then again, who knows? Maybe all the things I’m looking for are still there. But it comes down to this. If the men’s basketball team hopes to win another game, it must follow a maxim of a coach who once patrolled the sidelines of Ryan Field, just steps from the basketball court. As the late Randy Walker would say, the team will have to respond. It’s as simple as that.