Can you hear that noise? Can you hear it building? It's coming.
It's the noise of expectation. It's an inescapable, incessant, and inclusive sound swallowing all who hear it, chomping them up and spitting them out as ESPN fodder. It's an outside-to-in, directed sound that suffocates its supposed-to-be un-captivated audience and tells them everything they aren't.
This jumbled mess of talk-show, message board, twitter, facebook, blog, print, and television clutter is nothing more than a massive deterrent to the basics of hard work and execution.
Who cares if the talking heads who's athletic careers consisted of setting screens and waving towels pick you to finish first, second, or last? They aren't blocking out, shuffling their feet, or finding the open man. They don't play the games.
Traditionally the noise in Tucson has been deafening and that's the way we've liked it. Rocky times in the desert changed that but times are changing. Again. The drone is building. The drone of "this team can", "this team should", "this team will" is getting louder.
It's the same drone the football team heard after they beat Iowa-the-mighty; consequently crowning themselves Kings of the West, defenders of the Pacific, America's hot team. Interview this, prognosticate that, face-time, face-time, face-time. The noise was loud but the Beavers didn't bother to listen or buy in. They rolled in and out of town with the most resounding of all noises: a win. And just like that, the noise went away.
You see, the noise, it comes and it goes; after all, it's just noise. Contrived, speculating, reaching noise. Cover your ears and it's gone. Cover your ears and you're left in silence with but one thing: you. And just you can be a difficult thing to face. Just you has to run, jump, hustle. Just you can't finish second because everyone said so.
So as the noise level rises, Sean Miller will run his drills, watch his film, and implement his discipline. Coach Miller will cover his ears because he understands that the noise has never done a damn thing for a 19-year-old kid and that a 19-year-old kid has done everything for the noise.
The noise may be building around his young program but we can be certain of only one thing: Sean Miller is 17-15 as the Head Basketball Coach at the University of Arizona. Nothing more. Nothing less.
So with their ears covered and left alone, these 'Cats will quickly come to realize that in silence, you are what you are. They'll find out if they can or they can't. Will or won't. They'll win. Or they'll lose.
This Arizona Basketball team will be what it will be and I can't wait to watch.