The day was March 29th, 1999. The boy was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, the youthfulness and freedom of childhood briefly confined. It was his daily sentence to the ten hours of purgatory known to his parents as bedtime. Suddenly, he heard a yell from the unmistakable voice of his father. The young boy scampered downstairs, liberated from his personal imprisonment. His father screamed, “Look at the TV! Connecticut shocked the world!” The boy looked at the TV just in time to see a middle-aged basketball coach lifting his arms in joy as pure as the boy’s. Fifteen years, a couple feet, and bushels of facial hair later, hardened by the challenges of adolescence, few things remain the same. One thing that does, however, is my love of Connecticut basketball, and that all started with Jim Calhoun.
Unlike many in the coaching fraternity, Calhoun was not gifted with the benefits of family connections or superior athletic genetics. While coaching at Northeastern, he burst onto the radar of college basketball. Fourteen years later, Calhoun landed at Connecticut, a perennial doormat in the Big East Conference. Twenty seven years after taking that job, Calhoun retired a legend. If making lemonade from lemons is considered admirable, Calhoun’s creation of an empire from his bare hands is nothing short of heroic.
In an age where political correctness is nearly overbearing, Calhoun’s type is a dying breed. As a coach, he was content to dismiss concerns about his public perception to ensure that his values were paramount within his program. He was not perfect, but whatever flaws he had, he wore on his sleeve. The man was always willing to give a troubled kid a chance, even if self-righteous media members criticized him from their moral mountaintops. Polish, lipstick, and glamor were punted away at the expense of toughness, courage, and loyalty, a resounding theme that has endured into the Kevin Ollie years and been adopted passionately by his players.
If the opponent were anyone but Michigan State, I would advice you to give the ticket to someone else. The first Connecticut basketball game I attended in my lifetime was 1,822 days ago, in Detroit. I was accompanied by my father, who turned on the radio when his old, rugged BMW - which we had been driving in for upwards of 16 hours at that point, from our home in Massachusetts - finally crawled within 30 miles of Ford Field. "The place is littered with Spartan green", the local talk show host boasted. "This place holds 70,000 people, and I expect 50,000 Michigan State fans will be here." As my father and I marched into Ford Field, the estimate proved to be frighteningly accurate. To this day, I've never been to a louder venue. The rambunctious crowd propelled the Spartans to victory, and to my dying day I'll remember being swallowed up by one big wave of Spartan ectasy as I sat in my seat in the upper deck, begging for the opportunity to one day return the favor.
As one of the sole Husky fans who braved the hostile elements of Ford Field that day, I believe the mojo dictates that I reap the rewards of a decidedly pro-Husky crowd on hand tomorrow. Jim Calhoun's hand-picked successor, Kevin Ollie, debuted against a nearly identical Spartan team fourteen months ago on a Naval base, and in just over 16 hours, he'll meet them again for a chance to go to the final four. The symmetry of it all is glaringly palpable, and as somebody who is eternally grateful for the kids who remained loyal to the program when they had every opportunity to bolt, I'd forfeit my left thumb for the chance to watch them in the world's most famous arena one last time. Yesterday afternoon, I departed for New York City at 1 PM, and arrived back in my bed at 6 AM Saturday morning. And do you know what? I'd love nothing more than to do it all over again. And while I can't promise a victory, what I can promise is that my voice will be hopelessly hoarse by the time its all over. Jim Calhoun, Kevin Ollie, and the kids on the team who have devoted more to their craft than we could ever comprehend deserve at least that much.
I can't tell you who to give the tickets to, huskies92. There are a lot of staunchly loyal posters on this board, and I wouldn't fault you for giving the tickets to any of them. But if you're looking for somebody to share and embrace the gift of UConn basketball with, I can assure you I will not disappoint. We may be total strangers. But for forty minutes tomorrow, we might as well be lifetime friends united by one common bond. If I'm lucky enough to win them, I'd be more than happy to bring another poster along with me. Whether I'm watching with you tomorrow, or here on my couch, people like you and everyone else on this board are what make this program a joy to root for. Go Huskies.
