I’m sure Andy Staples is a nice guy. I hope he is rather. What he decided to write on the Penn State situation is rather…unfortunate. Original version can be found here.
Let’s just get into this thing:
I’m sure Andy Staples is a nice guy. I hope he is rather. What he decided to write on the Penn State situation is rather…unfortunate. Original version can be found here.
Let’s just get into this thing:
ALL THE KIDS WITH THEIR PUMPED UP KICKS
While watching the championship game between Kentucky and Kansas the other night, I had several revelations. Kentucky was sporting 4 or 5 future Lottery Picks. Kansas probably 1. Kentucky won the game before halftime started. Bill Self is annoying. Coach Cal knows what he’s doing, and he’s doing it well.
The tournament’s just not that into you. It’s not you, it’s it. The tournament does not care about your crazy Cinderella stories and upset specials. Early on, yes, it was exciting. That’s when unsuspecting top seeds are supposed to get upended by upstarts trying, no dying, to make a splash and instantly put a new program on the map. Lehigh became only the fifth #15 seed to beat a #2 when they beat Duke this year. When that happened, you guys were still in that “can’t keep your hands off of each other, hot and heavy” phase. The tournament was expectedly exhilarating. It had you tuning in to games on three or four channels. You were bending over backwards to make sure you didn’t miss any of the action.
But you guys settled into sort of an annual, predictable rut. Turns out that the exciting tournament you fell in love with for its craziness and spontaneity was just a regular, boring ole tournamental showcase for the NCAA’s elite programs again. These elite programs continue to trump all the initial madness, triumphing over all the smaller conferences, mid-majors, and majorly unequipped programs to claim championship after championship. Once you get past the Sweet 16, the shocks dissipate, and what we’re left with is another notch on the belt for a top ranked program.
The most recent surprise to win it all? That would be Villanova as a #8 seed back in 1985. Since then, there have been 26 champions-16 of them were #1 seeds in their respective region. 4 were #2 seeds. 4 were #3 seeds. One was a #4 seed: Mike Bibby and Miles Simon’s (yes, THEE Miles Simon) Arizona Wildcats from 1997. The other was Danny Manning and Larry Brown’s Kansas Jayhawks from 1988, who won it all under the moniker Danny and The Miracles as a #6 seed.
For anyone who thinks the gap is anywhere near being bridged between major powerhouse programs and the wannabe up and comers, look around. Hi, I’m reality. Have we met? Baylor had a nice little regular season, but Brittney Griner and the Lady Bears might give them a run if it ever came down to it. Butler almost beat Duke a couple years ago in the Final, but come on. It’s Duke. They’re always susceptible to a loss in March. VCU made the Final Four last year, but they lost to Indiana in the second round this year. The aforementioned Butler actually had consecutive Final Four appearances leading up to this year, and this year ended up in the College Basketball Invitational. These two budding programs (Butler and VCU) are actually getting more attention this time of year for their coaches, baby faced Brad Stephens and frenetic Shaka Smart, deciding not to fill the head coaching vacancy at Illinois. The lack of a sustained effort over the course of time for these, and I use the term loosely, underprivileged schools makes for nice symbolism for their inability to break through the rigamaro of the tourney to win a national title. It’s a lot like the real life scenario when trying to get a job in your chosen industry: “Well, your resume looks good, but you don’t have any experience.” Bitch, how am I supposed to get any experience in the industry if you won’t give me the experience? How are these schools supposed to recruit without any credibility as national champions? They’re fighting a losing battle. Some high school graduates choose Purdue for engineering, Harvard to become President, West Point to take over the military, or Oxford to hone their scholarly crafts. Other high school graduates go to Kansas, North Carolina, Kentucky, or UCLA to play basketball (Disclaimer: the author is well-aware of every mentioned university’s academic achievements in addition to their sports accolades; this is a sports site though, after all).
The real madness lies in the fact that these student athletes are not allowed to reap any of the financial benefits until after leaving school and turning pro. Enter John Calipari. Those aforementioned high school seniors deciding where to attend college? If they desire to cash checks signed by David Stern and the NBA, they go wherever John Calipari is strolling the sidelines. He’s done it at UMass, Memphis, and now Kentucky. Rick Pitino has done it in four different decades. Bill Self has done it at Illinois and Kansas, and Thad Matta has done it twice now with Ohio State. Getting to the Final Four is one thing. Being the Final One is what it’s all about, but once again it’s going to be a well-known, already reputable school who will be the beat the bracket
This year, the teams that were supposed to be here are here. It’s not quite a 2008 situation when all four #1 seeds advanced to the Final Four, but Kentucky at #1, Ohio State and Kansas at #2, and Louisville at #4 is relatively…sane. These four powerhouse programs have a combined 20 Final Four appearances. Insane.
Looking back on your relationship with the NCAA Tournament though, it never was all that mad. The initial rounds provide some spark, but the top seeds who inevitably fizzle out are somewhat usual suspects to begin with (ahem, Duke, ahem). The Final Four is, and should be, reserved for the upper-echelon basketball programs who were ranked in the top ten all year for a reason. The SaniTERRYum is reserved for some semblance of madness, but March’s spark is fizzling fast.
That’s the beauty of March Madness: anything can happen. Only when reality sinks in do people realize that it usually doesn’t.
-AP
Architect of the “Grand Experiment,” coach with the most wins in FBS history, figurehead at Penn State University, an inspiration to many, and forever an enabler to arguably the most horrific figure in sports history. Joe Paterno died sometime between Jan. 21-22 after being diagnosed with lung cancer, he was surrounded by his family, he was allowed to say goodbye to his loved ones. He more than likely died in peace, a silent goodbye to those closest to him.
This is unfortunate not because I mourn his passing, it is unfortunate because he will never face any real justice for what he allowed to happen under his watch at Penn State. There are many fans and PSU alumni who wanted to see Joe Paterno reinstated and honored at the disgraced university as a measure of justice to the man that they claim was a noble man.
This notion is silly. A noble man does more than what’s expected of him, a noble man goes above ad beyond what is asked of him in dire situations. Valor is not defined by simply doing what the rulebook dictates you do. Valor is having the courage to stand up for those who cannot. To have honor is to seek out injustice when it’s close to you and weed it out. To be a noble man is to act nobly, and to act nobly is to ensure the safety of those that need it most.
Joe Paterno did what was legally required of him by law, and that’s it. The noble man did not kick out a sexual predator from his institution. He did not ensure the safety of young boys that were being preyed upon by a despicable man. He did not bring Sandusky to justice, he did not pursue any other actions besides those which were legally required of him, and for someone who has been called “Noble,” that is simply not enough. It’s not even enough for a decent man.
Paterno held the power at PSU, he was the face of the college. His word was law there. He could have done more, he should have done more, and while I will not celebrate his passing, I will not mourn it either. Paterno fell victim to an illness, but it does not make him the victim. I am well prepared for what’s to follow, the demands for another Joe Paterno memorial, a Joe Paterno remembrance day, things like that.
He doesn’t deserve that. What he deserved was to face the victims of what he enabled to truly see the damage he helped happen.
He didn’t get that either.