I remember spending a lot of time shooting baskets while growing up in upstate New York. In Ontario, we had a backboard mounted on the rear garage. I can remember my mom helping me shovel off the asphalt during the dead of winter so that I could shoot baskets. Can you imagine how badly she must have wanted me out of the house? I remember Alvin, our paper boy, taking a break from his afternoon paper route almost every day to hang out and shoot baskets. I actually got kind of good at shooting baskets. Unfortunately, I never developed any ball skills. And, even on my best days, I never got much more than 3 or 4 inches of air between the ground and my Chuck Taylors when I went up for a rebound.
The high point of my basketball career came in elementary school, right after we moved to Elmira. Hendy Avenue used to have a game between students and teachers. You had to try out to make the team. Try outs consisted of free throws and lay-ups. Luckily for me, those were my specialties. I made the team, played in the game against the teachers, and then hung up my laces.
Even if you didn't play basketball, when you grew up in upstate New York in the early 1980's, you were a Big East basketball fan. Allegiances were split four ways -- you either liked St. John's, Syracuse, Georgetown, or Villanova. Nobody really cared about any of the other teams in the league.
I've always been a Syracuse fan. We didn't have a TV but all the Syracuse games were carried on one of the local radio stations. I'd lay on the floor and listen while Louis Orr, Roosevelt Bouie, and Pearl Washington were in their hey-day. When Syracuse finally made it to its first national championship game in 1987, I was home from Bucknell on spring break. By this time, we had a TV and I was settled in to watch the game. I made it through the first half and then the phone rang. It was Kim, calling to profess her love (or something like that). We'd been going out for about two months. I was torn -- Syracuse was in the national championship game but my girlfriend was on the phone. I took the call and we talked through the entire second half. I ended up missing Keith Smart's game-winning baseline jumper but that was probably for the best since he played for Indiana.
After we moved down to Maryland, I realized how much I really liked Big East baskeball. Even though Georgetown is in DC, it seemed like everyone in this part of the world was an ACC fan. I grew to hate ACC basketball. Duke with its elitist fans. North Carolina and its baby blues. Maryland, always with a chip on its shoulders, desperate to be seen on the same level as the Blue Devils and Tar Heels. Then Maryland actually won the national title in 2002. Oh, the agony.
But, then a miracle took place and, the very next year, the Orange finally won the national title. Hannah and Nick started to become Syracuse fans. We watched some great games over the next few years. The 6-overtime thriller between Syracuse and UConn in the Big East tournament in 2009 was the best of them.
Now comes the news that Syracuse has left the Big East, to join the ACC of all things! The noise I made when I heard that sounded something like aulck. My guess is that Jim Boeheim made the same noise. I can't imagine that he's happy about no longer playing Georgetown, Villanova, and St. John's. I'm even going to miss Providence, Seton Hall, and Rutgers. Nick summed it up the best for me. He said "At least we already hate all the ACC teams." How right he is.