30 Years Later, The Dream Lingers On
Thirty years after a fact, it is amusing to reflect back on a thrilling occurrence. Some things that occur that are fantastic to one's imagination and interest may only happen once in a lifetime, like an incredible brush with a celebrity or a brush with fame itself; maybe there was a sudden windfall of money or a singular spectacular vacation that one knows will not happen again, so there are no further hopes of obtaining such pleasure. Fine, one can live life knowing that one will not expect to have that event or experience again. But you will always cherish the memory.
In the world of sports and teams and players that have achieved greatness, we like to think that things will happen again, especially for those that we favor. With due diligence and patience, hard work and some luck, and of course, the continued devotion on the part of the fans and followers, success and the pay off should happen. We pay for tickets, TV rights, paraphernalia, we even donate to the school to make it great and desired for great players to make it a champion. We read about it, listen and analyze those who also read and scrutinize it. We will win the ultimate crown again, as the pattern has been established. For a fan of Bob Knight and his teams, the pattern had been established to win it all every 5 to 6 years. A nice pattern. Prior to him, IU had placed two banners in the ceiling, so the pace of victory had increased since the beginnings of the NCAA tourney in 1939.
But, Knight's last 13 years at IU he made only one more Final Four, and perhaps as a sign of the change of guard nationally Knight lost in the semi-finals to his esteemed protogě Coach Mike Krzyzewski; this was in 1992, five years after the wonderful 1987. The pattern had been altered. Well, 25 years since then, the pattern had been irrevocably smashed. Because the following year was more snake bitten. Here we are, Hoosier fans. 2017 and 5 coaches later, nada, zip, and zippo. The triumvirate of nothing superlative.
In the world of sports and teams and players that have achieved greatness, we like to think that things will happen again, especially for those that we favor. With due diligence and patience, hard work and some luck, and of course, the continued devotion on the part of the fans and followers, success and the pay off should happen. We pay for tickets, TV rights, paraphernalia, we even donate to the school to make it great and desired for great players to make it a champion. We read about it, listen and analyze those who also read and scrutinize it. We will win the ultimate crown again, as the pattern has been established. For a fan of Bob Knight and his teams, the pattern had been established to win it all every 5 to 6 years. A nice pattern. Prior to him, IU had placed two banners in the ceiling, so the pace of victory had increased since the beginnings of the NCAA tourney in 1939.
But, Knight's last 13 years at IU he made only one more Final Four, and perhaps as a sign of the change of guard nationally Knight lost in the semi-finals to his esteemed protogě Coach Mike Krzyzewski; this was in 1992, five years after the wonderful 1987. The pattern had been altered. Well, 25 years since then, the pattern had been irrevocably smashed. Because the following year was more snake bitten. Here we are, Hoosier fans. 2017 and 5 coaches later, nada, zip, and zippo. The triumvirate of nothing superlative.
So, for an event that caused such sheer joy and celebration that many decades ago, and that was expected to yield more in the years since but to no avail, it can cause some heartache and angst.
Grumpiness. Forlornness. Contempt and crabbiness. Despair.
Lots of yelling at the TV and other things. Random dogs and cats, and the occasional squirrel.My poor wife and kids... And occasional passers-by...
We have had years to think that things would be different, that IU would in fact, rise back to their championship selves. I guess we have been tricked into thinking we (they) were that good? Was it all a deception or fantasy? Perhaps. 1992. (See above). The following year 1993-close but key big man injury ends those hopes. I was hopeful in 1994. But no.
I reached my twenties. No.
I reached my thirties, still hopeful, despite harsh setbacks like the Zero tolerance policy of former IU President Myles Brand and the firing of the Legend. No still.
Now I am past half way into my forties. The latest coach fired, after a nine year tenure. Nada.
1998. 2002. 2007. 2013. Even the beginning of this the 30th season (2016-17), we beat top teams Kansas and North Carolina, making us think we could dream so big in March of this season of '17, but this year unlike many that did not start as promising we knew by January and February that this team was on board a sinking ship.
And now in March, it sunk for sure.
It's like waiting for a job that never comes, a raise that never happens, a promised date that is forever postponed. Cancelled, booted to the cellar.
Hoosier fans have grown impatient, cynical, and desperate.Three decades! Three decades? Almost a third of a century?
Grumpiness. Forlornness. Contempt and crabbiness. Despair.
Lots of yelling at the TV and other things. Random dogs and cats, and the occasional squirrel.My poor wife and kids... And occasional passers-by...
We have had years to think that things would be different, that IU would in fact, rise back to their championship selves. I guess we have been tricked into thinking we (they) were that good? Was it all a deception or fantasy? Perhaps. 1992. (See above). The following year 1993-close but key big man injury ends those hopes. I was hopeful in 1994. But no.
I reached my twenties. No.
I reached my thirties, still hopeful, despite harsh setbacks like the Zero tolerance policy of former IU President Myles Brand and the firing of the Legend. No still.
Now I am past half way into my forties. The latest coach fired, after a nine year tenure. Nada.
1998. 2002. 2007. 2013. Even the beginning of this the 30th season (2016-17), we beat top teams Kansas and North Carolina, making us think we could dream so big in March of this season of '17, but this year unlike many that did not start as promising we knew by January and February that this team was on board a sinking ship.
And now in March, it sunk for sure.
It's like waiting for a job that never comes, a raise that never happens, a promised date that is forever postponed. Cancelled, booted to the cellar.
Hoosier fans have grown impatient, cynical, and desperate.Three decades! Three decades? Almost a third of a century?
And such is the life and expectation of an Indiana Hoosier basketball fan in 2017.
In 1987 I was a sophomore high school student in Bloomington, Indiana. It was the heartland of the United States late in the Ronald Reagan era, the heartland of basketball country, largely because of a legendary basketball coach at the university a mile away. Yet, Indiana cared about basketball beyond college or pros: it was at the high school level where people loved it the most in the Heartland of Indiana. Everyone cared. Well, okay, not everyone in Bloomington watched or cared about the Hurry'n Hoosiers or the local high school teams. But I learned to care and breathe it, like so many of the rest of the state. I was a part of the majority, a religion known as hoops. And I loved it.
The intense passion for it had grown on me. In me. Through me; I knew that drugs were bad, addictive and destructive, just as an anti-drug crusader named Toma would preach and yell on the floor of Assembly Hall, the basketball arena on campus, to thousands of us middle schoolers in 1985, the very court and stage where the Hoosiers wended their magic every season. Of course, that very season of '85 the Hoosiers struggled and did not make the NCAA, the Big Dance that they had won just four years earlier. But they did make the NIT, and went on to the championship game in New York before losing to a future legendary Indiana Pacer professional player named Reggie Miller of UCLA.
Indiana played poorly and loused up on occasion but they were still good. Almost great, while not champions. That was part of the thrill. And the Hoosiers would come around and win: everything!
The Big Dance, the Big Enchilada. Happened twice in my lifetime already by fourth grade, four times in the school's history, back to World War II. Indiana was a constant when it came to hanging championship banners from the towering vaulted roofs of our home court, Assembly Hall. Right by 17th street. I lived a few blocks from 1st.
Just four years prior in 1981, as a fourth grader, the very day that our newly elected former California Governor was shot as a new president in Washington D.C., the Indiana team had won its second ring during my short life; I realized the day after that historical Monday that I did not take it in properly, that I did not celebrate enough with the surrounding campus and fellow Hoosier fans, my classmates included.
So I waited with breath bated another five years, and sure enough as a sophomore, a tenth grader at Bloomington South High School just a few miles from the campus of Indiana University and the Bob Knight Hoosiers, we (I emphasize we) did it again: this time in dramatic fashion with a tremendous comeback and a last possession shot at the Superdome in New Orleans. The games and season leading up to that pinnacle were climatically exciting as well. This was a like an energy drug of exquisite imagination and lore for me as a fan and resident of the community. Such events stretch on into the magical month of March, but well beyond into other hopes and fancies. And that would be the last time of triumph, to the chagrin of millions of us.
A little-known junior college transfer named Keith Smart carried the day along with senior and underclass heroes; we celebrated Knight's third national crown, and I soaked every moment in.
And I wanted more, in the 1990s, the 2000s...
I moved across the planet during other seasons to come, from Indiana to Chile to Utah, back to Chile, back to Utah, a side trip to the Middle East, back to Indiana, then to California, back to Chile again (3rd time's the charm), then to Virginia and California again, with trips to Missouri and Arizona,back to Virginia, with a tour to Afghanistan, back to Virginia.
And: no! Never! New coaches! New players! New hopes! And ... nothing.
Okay, we made it to the dance and advanced a few times. All came up short, most very short.
____________________________________________________________________
BREAK: I learned today that Tom Crean has been fired after 9 years of being the IU coach, part of the unsuccessful legacy of not reaching number six for the banners, our would be 6th elusive national championship. 16 Mar. '17
The vagaries of March Madness.
______________________________________________________________________
30 years later and we are still waiting for the 6th banner to be hung from the rafters. IU came closest to this feat in 2002, but Maryland had a superior team responding to the surprising run of second year coach Mike Davis. But despite that indication of a legacy of greatness right after Knight, his luck and recruiting ran out and IU faltered into March. He was fired, the well had run dry by 2005. Other years we were generally far from the goal since 1995, some years not qualifying for the tournament or more often simply putting up a dud in the first round of the Big Dance. Like going to a ball or dance and leaving after the first song or two. Not many people's idea of a dance.
And so, this being the week at the end of winter that IU's March dreams have ended again to the sounds and realms of a thud, the 30th year since that ecstatic time of the nostalgic eighties and my teenage, high school and middle school years, some think of them as the Wonder Years, yes, for these same reasons, I myself have a high school student daughter in her sophomore year, and the search, the quest, the dream, lingers.
The hope is ahead of us, like many seasons that we hope to see come again.
May it ever be so.
Go, IU. Get that class of players, get that championship back to Bloomington.
Go, IU!
Fight.
Fight.
Fight!
And I wanted more, in the 1990s, the 2000s...
I moved across the planet during other seasons to come, from Indiana to Chile to Utah, back to Chile, back to Utah, a side trip to the Middle East, back to Indiana, then to California, back to Chile again (3rd time's the charm), then to Virginia and California again, with trips to Missouri and Arizona,back to Virginia, with a tour to Afghanistan, back to Virginia.
And: no! Never! New coaches! New players! New hopes! And ... nothing.
Okay, we made it to the dance and advanced a few times. All came up short, most very short.
____________________________________________________________________
BREAK: I learned today that Tom Crean has been fired after 9 years of being the IU coach, part of the unsuccessful legacy of not reaching number six for the banners, our would be 6th elusive national championship. 16 Mar. '17
The vagaries of March Madness.
______________________________________________________________________
30 years later and we are still waiting for the 6th banner to be hung from the rafters. IU came closest to this feat in 2002, but Maryland had a superior team responding to the surprising run of second year coach Mike Davis. But despite that indication of a legacy of greatness right after Knight, his luck and recruiting ran out and IU faltered into March. He was fired, the well had run dry by 2005. Other years we were generally far from the goal since 1995, some years not qualifying for the tournament or more often simply putting up a dud in the first round of the Big Dance. Like going to a ball or dance and leaving after the first song or two. Not many people's idea of a dance.
And so, this being the week at the end of winter that IU's March dreams have ended again to the sounds and realms of a thud, the 30th year since that ecstatic time of the nostalgic eighties and my teenage, high school and middle school years, some think of them as the Wonder Years, yes, for these same reasons, I myself have a high school student daughter in her sophomore year, and the search, the quest, the dream, lingers.
The hope is ahead of us, like many seasons that we hope to see come again.
May it ever be so.
Go, IU. Get that class of players, get that championship back to Bloomington.
Go, IU!
Fight.
Fight.
Fight!
