My 2010-11 'Cats V-Card Has Been Taken

Finally!  I got to watch the 'Cats play.  After a mad search for Fox Sports Pacific last Sunday that turned up unsuccessful (which is ludicrous in San Francisco in 2010 with Direct TV everywhere) I listened to the Idaho State game online via the Idaho State free radio broadcast.

But I still hadn't seen these Wildcats.

I hadn't yet seen if Derrick indeed moved his game to 17 feet and Jamelle became a leader and if Momo trimmed weight and his score-first mentality.  It was not yet clear to me if Kevin could get off the floor more explosively and if Solo was indeed the best player on the floor through one month of practices.  I didn't know if Jesse and Jordin and Daniel could play.  I know Brendon can shoot, but does he know?  I know Kyle can score, but can he regularly and at his own will?  Per usual, I am clueless as to what to expect from K-real the Deal.

But, courtesy of Pete's Tavern in San Francisco, I lost this season's V-card.  Pete took my virginity.  Ew.  While I didn't have anyone to directly analyze with (text messaging would suffice), I got to watch these 'Cats play.

And what did I see? 

Well, I saw that Derrick Williams is indeed a scorer.  That dude can put the ball in the hoop and it is not easy to stop him.  I was ecstatic to see Jamelle, late in the second half, catch an outlet pass on the wing, take a power step-and-drive toward the basket, and throw down with absolute ease in transition.  It was a move we've been waiting three years to see from Mr. Horne.  I hope there's more to come.

Momo is still a question mark and will continue to be.  As is much of the guard play.  Kyelcouldn't hit, Mayes looks raw, Lavender doesn't quite have the handles to be great, and Daniel has been non-existent.  But Momo and Kyle  made plays, combining for 12 assists and the 'Cats were able to score, score, score in the paint.  I liked that.  And on the theme of being what you are, the guards didn't do more than they could.  A very, very encouraging sign.

I think there's work to be done with perimeter and transition defense.  That NMSU (sounds ridiculous) guard had his way with whomever guarded him leading to open jumpers and penetration.  But I was surprised, not yet impressed, with the ability to understand defensive rotations.  It's much improved from last year.

K-real the Deal took a charge on a defensive rotation.  Repeat: K-real the Deal took a charge on a defensive rotation.  If you saw it, you wouldn't be impressed.  It sounds so much better in writing.

There's learning to be done.  The offense still doesn't flow like a well oiled machine but here and there it jumps into gear and it looks really good.  And there's a bench.  It's like a backup transmission. 

As I said, this team will be what it will be.  Through two showings, this team just might be pretty good. 

Cover Your Ears 'Cause It's Getting Just a Little Too Loud

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.

A Silver Anniversary Thank You

For the past twenty-five years, the University of Arizona Men’s Basketball team has received an invitation to compete in the NCAA Basketball Tournament. The streak began in 1985, when a team just two years removed from a four-win season lost in the first round as a 10 seed. This Sunday, the streak will officially end after several years of turmoil and uncertainty; but after many years of excellence.

In the wake of the conclusion to the second longest streak of consecutive NCAA Tournament appearances of all time, we would like to throw out some thank you’s.

First and foremost, we’d like to thank god. While this seems cliché in sports, without him and his strength we would not be here. When he came to Tucson in the fall of 1983, he inherited that four-win team. Quickly, the streak began. Without Lute, AP stories would still list Tucson with the AZ attached. So, thank you god.

We’d also like to thank Tom Tolbert, K-Lo, Jud Buechler and any of the other players we don’t quite remember. Thanks Steve Kerr for tearing your ACL allowing you to stick around to get us to that first Final Four. Thanks Sean for starting it all.

Thanks Damon and Khalid and Baby Blair for legitimizing it. Thanks Ray Owes, Ben Davis, Matt Muehlbach, and Reggie. Thanks Joe McClain; if you hadn’t been sick it might have been back-to-back Sweet 16 upsets of Kansas. Which brings us to, a more modern era.

Thanks Jason for those high socks. Thanks Mike for banking that three home against Carolina. Thanks Donnell for putting off possession one year to come off the bench. Thanks Bennett for the springs in your legs. Thanks Miles for the floaters and the shoulder shake. Thanks Eugene for the first branding I ever saw. Thanks Michael Dickerson for being so graceful and so underrated. Thanks AJ for somehow making it work. Thanks Josh for coaching as a player. Thanks Jason Stewart for your God.

Thanks Loren for transferring in. Thanks Michael Wright for being a beast. Thanks Ricky Anderson, how were you a star for a two-loss team? Thanks Richard for jumping. Thanks Gilbert for flying under the radar, at least early in your career. Thanks Jason for PGU. Thanks Luke for the star power. Thanks Isaiah for being chubby. Thanks Andre for those monkey arms. Thanks Hasaan for that one game at Washington and the dunks. Thanks Rock Walters for 5 years of Mono. Thanks Mustafa for trying hard. Thanks Ivan for some Euro (no thanks Robertas Javtokas). Thanks J-Mac for not pissing on any teenagers. Thanks Chase for bump-set-spike. Thanks Jordan for getting SO good SO fast. Thanks Nic for losing the weight. Thanks Kyle for your emergence. Thanks Salim for raining. Thanks Fendi for the bows. Thanks Channing for poetry. Thank you Momo and Kyryl and Derrick and Solomon and Kevin for what’s to come.

Thanks for beating Kansas in 1997. Thanks for that run in 2001. Thanks for outplaying Illinois. Thanks for the Pac-10 championships. Forget the early exits. Thanks for fighting ‘Nova. Thanks for 24 of 25 against ASU. Thanks for the start of the 2001-02 season (Maryland-boom, Texas-boom, Illinois-boom). Thanks for the SI covers.

Thanks for all the tickets we mooched. Thanks for parents who bought tickets. Thanks to everyone who sat in that nasty, sweaty, stinky, hot guest bedroom at my parents’ house humping, face painting, and screaming us to that overtime victory against Gonzaga. Thanks for the cable package in San Diego that got me FSN-AZ. Thanks for that one afternoon where we got to see the basketball team in the football stadium on a school day in April.

Thanks to Jim Harrick and Steve Lavin for running UCLA into the ground for about a decade. Thanks to the rest of the Pac10 for never catching up and your mediocrity (see: Ben Braun, Rob Evans, Bill Frieder, Ernie Kent). Thanks Henry Bibby for your son.

Thanks George for staying clean. Thanks Coach Ros. Thanks Greg Hansen, eh. Thanks Jody Oehler for giving me a forum. Thanks Bobbi for keeping Lute sane. No thanks KO. Thanks Reggie for still recruiting. Thanks Russ for that 7 game run. Thanks for saying “No”, Tim. Thanks for saying “Yes”, Sean.

I do not want this to come across as a Eulogy. AbsoLUTEly not. This is a celebration of Arizona Basketball and all that it has accomplished and the greatness that has been displayed for twenty-five years. This is meant to remember the past and usher in the future. There is so much more to come and this program will once again be on top. After all, Sean said so.

So there you have it. A Silver Anniversary Thank You inspired by a generation of Arizona hoops. If you have any thanks you’d like to add, please post a comment. Don’t bother blaming or pointing fingers; you’re just a Debbie-downer.

As Arizona moves into next season and a new era of greatness, keep in mind that March, springtime, is a season of new beginnings. Let us celebrate that.

Bear Down.

He is Nic Wise.

Dear Coach Miller,

I am writing today to tell you the story of a program and the legacy of a player.

In the beginning there was Lute Olson. He came to the caliche hardened earth of the Tucson desert and grew from nothing one of the most prominent, successful basketball programs in the nation. For years, Tucsonans basked in the glow of Lute's silver hair and unmatched success: 11 Pac-10 Championships, 22 consecutive tournament appearances, 4 Final Fours, 21 20 win seasons, 17 All Americans, and of course 1997. Lute Olson was the face of the program and immediately the most recognizable man in Tucson. His stature, good looks, and even keel gave him an aura and mystique that was rare for a desert town with no movie stars or professional athletes. We thought he would never leave.

Of course Lute would eventually leave; not even he could withstand the hands of time. People will talk about the mess he left in his bumpy exit. National talking heads will compare him to Eddie Sutton and scold him for not being more dignified in his departure. However, in Tucson--where time stops for a University of Arizona game--fans have come to realize something else: though it was Lute who built the program, it is Arizona that endures.

Our allegiance lies with the players on the court; it lives in McKale Center, with the banners in the rafters, the retired jerseys, the barber pole striped pep band, and with Ooh-Ah man. Our allegiance has been tested in these years of turmoil, but it could not leave with Lute because it is mercilessly tied to the players that don the cardinal and blue and proudly strap Arizona across their chest. Never has the unwavering allegiance to our players been more needed than during these last several years where we watched the last of Lute's recruiting well dry up and teams struggle to uncertain conclusions to their seasons.

However, there was one player that never gave in or gave up. He endured the waning years of Lute; he lasted through a volatile year with the temporary heir apparent Kevin O'Neil; treated us to a season with Russ, Mike, Dewey and the Big Three; and for his victory lap has ushered in the era of Sean Miller. He allowed tormented Arizona fans to hold onto a thread of continuity and hope. And he proudly, without faltering, represented the University, his teammates, his fans and our town.

He is Nic Wise.

Nic Wise: the last remaining vestige of a bygone era; the kid who wanted to play for Arizona when he was 15 years old; the young man who put his faith in the Arizona program despite the storm of uncertainty raging around him; the competitor who played through injuries, and fatigue; the senior who will play his last home game Saturday in front of three of his last four college coaches; the man who took a back seat to a coach and helped guide a group of boys (who will be the future of Arizona basketball) in the right direction for the first time in four years.

He was never the player of the year--not even an All-American. He didn't win a Pac-10 Championship and never went to the final four. Yet he--perhaps more than any other--deserves to have his jersey hang with Kerr, Elliot, Bibby and Gardner. His numbers will never compare. Yet here is a man that devoted four years of his life so that a program we took for granted for decades could survive.

When fans look back on these last four years, many will remember the end of the Lute Olson era. Many more will remember the beginning of the Sean Miller era. However, it is Nic Wise --the only perceivable element of stability in the last four years--that should be remembered. Nic Wise proudly wore the Arizona jersey despite a coaching carousel; despite lagging attendance; and in lieu of other opportunities. No one would have blamed him if he left.

Instead, Nic Wise reminded us that it is the A-R-I-Z-O-N-A that endures, and he gave his entire body, mind and soul to make sure that it would.

And for that Coach Miller, please see to it that Nic Wise's jersey hangs in the rafters.

Sincerely,

B.H. Homer

Please submit your letters to Coach Miller in our comments section or by email to wchomer84@gmail.com, or simply leave a comment. You know Nic deserves it.

Something Special for the Holidays

Usually, when the game winner falls, you'll think to yourself, "Wow. Something special is going on with this team." On the surface, that is not the case here. The U of A Men's Basketball Team - once again - nearly snatched a loss away from the jaws of victory last week. Leading 69-61 with under a minute to play, fans started heading for the exits. Had they not seen the Colorado game? What about UNLV? Lipscomb? The entire Maui Invitational? Appropriately, fans left during the forgettable (save Jimmer Fredette’s 49 points) lesson in execution from the BYU Cougars.

No. Nothing about Nic Wise's game winner(s) - and particularly the process by which it became necessary - suggests something magical, something unique, is happening at McKale this season. Too much is yet to be learned and taught. This team is average at best, young and developing.

But before you think I'm a complete Debbie Downer, before you accuse me of hopping off the bandwagon, allow me this: this is fun. This is not Sports Illustrated covers and 38-point victories. It's not All-Americans and it's not lottery picks. But it is fun.

There hasn't been eager anticipation surrounding Arizona Basketball since 2006, Chase Budinger's freshman year. Since then, it's been a steady decline to "what can go wrong next?" Four coaches in four years; an heir to the Olson throne announced and fired; Olson returns, then retires. Seemingly nothing has gone right for this program lately, but things are changing. Now, with a suited man named Stability at the helm, a crop of five projects, and a new logo, we have something special to look forward to.

This is fun because we get to watch a program be (re)built. You want wins now? Take short cuts for victories? How’d that work out at USC? Kansas State? (UMass, Memphis, Kentucky, yeah!) I’m not naïve, college sports are tainted, but the numbers don’t lie. Of the past 43 NCAA Men’s Basketball Champions only three champs are not ranked in the Top 50 of ESPNs All-Time programs. Two of the three programs (UConn and Florida) have won multiple championships. To win in March—when it matters—you need a program, not a season.

Listen to Stability speak; he oozes reality and reeks of process. He sees this program growing. He speaks a foreign tongue to most fans: big picture. Fans speak in rightnow-ese. “We’re not a very good team right now,” Stability says. Gasp! Blasphemous in rightnow-ese. In big picture that means, “Revel in this mediocrity because it will not last long.”

On the eve of the Pac-10 season and New Year we are faced with possibility and hope. The conference tournament champion receives an automatic bid to the tournament and that would appear to be every Pac-10 team’s best shot at the Dance. The Wildcats – and the rest of the league – will improve; but the basketball will be poor and not worthy of national attention. Ultimately – and I’ll say it again – you’re remembered for what you do in March. Anything’s possible. I hope.

Stability knows that a twenty-sixth NCAA Tournament birth is a long shot and likely not going to happen. Accept it. Grieve some on Selection Sunday and - for the first time in 25 years - have a shot at your office pool (that is if you’re like me and Arizona has won each of the last 25 titles).

When Stability left Xavier, he held a press conference to explain his decision and thank everyone he cared about at the school. He cried. It was genuine and demonstrated how passionate he is about his program. Stability stated one reason as to why he would leave that community to build another: a National Championship. There's your something special.

(Sean Miller press conference leaving Xavier)