Thursday, March 16, 2006

March Madness

One of the neat parts of having five degrees from five schools between my wife and me is that the NCAA Basketball tournament doesn't have to be painful. I got my Ph.D. from Maryland, and of my three schools it's the one to which I feel most attached. My Terps didn't make it to the big dance, although I'll be watching them in the NIT. That's okay because my wife got her MA from the George Washington University, and her Colonials are playing as I write. I did my BA at George Mason, and my Patriots play tomorrow night. What I'm hoping is that GW will win tonight and then beat Duke in the second round.
I hope for better days for my Terps. The last two seasons have been tough. Last year they had John Gilchrist (aka "That damn John Gilchrist") who thought he understood the game better than Gary Williams. This year, they had Chris McCray (aka "that stupid McCray") who managed to lose his eligibility in the same academic support system that made Tom McMillen a Rhodes Scholar. Guys like the two of them and J.J. Redick make me wonder about basketball players. Of course, I don't wonder much. My kids were in high school with Sirvaliant Brown when he had "NBA" tattooed on his arm. When the high school coach told a (female) official "You don't have the balls to make that call" and got suspended for a year, Sirvaliant went to one of the basketball factory prep schools for a year. Somehow, he got into GW, where he became known as "Sir Shootsalot." He didn't have much defense, his ball handling was suspect, he was a high scorer only because he took twice as many shots as everybody else, and he wasn't that much into classes anyway. He made it as far as the development league, but he's dropped off the basketball radar. I wonder whether he got the tattoo removed.
Gary Williams says that in recruiting, you tell a kid for two years that he's incredibly good and then tell him the first day of practice that he's terrible. The problem is that the kid had his high school coach telling him not to believe anything negative that anyone said about him, so the kid is absolutely convinced that he's all that with an order of fries, a large chocolate shake, and an apple pie. College was never any more in his mind than the right place to showcase himself for the NBA scouts. The fact that his odds of making the NBA are, at best, pretty bad, and he's getting a free education aren't enough to induce him to put any effort into improving his game or his mind.
It's a hell of a gamble. If a kid gets identified as "one in a million," Nike will hand him a contract for millions before he plays a second of pro ball and his endorsements will dwarf his on-court earnings. If he makes the NBA, even if he only lasts a couple of seasons, he can be set for life. But, of course, one in a million comes about one time in a million.
But it's March, and we can all suspend disbelief. Right now, I can be really glad that GW beat UNC-Wilmington and my dreams of a school with which I have some connection beating Duke are still alive. But I can't help it I'm still a college professor and I still care what happens to the players when their college careers are over.

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