Nothing But Iron: Dude. March 30, 2009 by Steve R Lagman, M.D., C.A.S.W. First of all, Dude is probably a registered trademark of Lite Beer, but I feel like I can use it, because I drank a Lite on Thursday and because my kids used Dude to get my attention long before Lite used it to sell beer. "Dude." "No, it’s Dad." Sometimes they even call their mom Dude. I think she likes that. Friday’s game was pretty much about the dude. If you met this dude in a dark alley, you would probably breathe a sigh of relief. Oh, just a Boy Scout. Or maybe history major or debate team captain on his way to buy his first safety razor. For sure the dude’s a gentle kid who loves his grandma, or perhaps a would-be babysitter of your only child. You would pass him, even in your Bucky earrings and motion-W t-shirt, without a hint of impending harm. That’s because his DNA is well concealed in the nuclei of the cells of the tissues that make him the heart-slashing, dream stealing assassin he really is. That DNA is equal parts NBA sharpshooter, Terminator, Spider Man, Kevlar and a couple hundred base pair sequences in common with Tiger Woods. Granted Stephen Curry failed to score all of Davidson’s 73 points in his team’s stunning second-half rout of the Badgers, but his performance was at the core of the nuclear chain reaction that exsanguinated the Big Ten Conference champions. How’s that for contrived, forced-shot, over-the-top sports writing? By the way, I say exsanguinated because the Society of Sports Writing Medical Professionals requires at least one big medical word for every thousand comprehensible English words. I am not permitted to reveal the definition here, but you’re thinking exsanguination is something bad, and that is true. I had the luxury, by virtue of the demands of my real job in the O.R., of not watching the second half, but I watched anyway, not so much out of closed-casket, You Tube morbid curiosity, but out of fascination for the psychology of such so-called upsets. First of all, it wasn’t really an upset, because, as most of us suspected, Davidson is a really good team. It would have to be really good to do what it has done this year. Our suspicions were confirmed, even in the entertaining first half, when the Wildcats answered every UW attempt to gain momentum with an opposite and at least equal success. Back at ya! as Matt Lepay put it several times. Almost everyone agrees: The better team won. At this point I have to admit that I wrote the above paragraph on speculation, without having actually watched the second half replay. I figured that Davidson was simply marvelous, despite Wisconsin’s best efforts. I assumed our guys became panic stricken and desperate when it became apparent that nothing could be done. Then I watched it. I still think it’s a lot about the dude, however, I was flat-out astounded at how poorly Wisconsin played. That was the worst half of UW basketball I have seen since the first half of the UW-Duke game at CIS. In fact, the Badgers played so poorly that I now think that the Wisconsin I know, had it been there, might have weathered the storm, at least to the point of face-saving respectability. I now think the Badgers might well have been guilty of that ever-so-human transgression of looking past an opponent. I now think that Davidson, the best story in the tournament, has almost no chance of beating Kansas today. Why? Because Kansas won’t get out rebounded in the second half. Kansas will not throw some of its worst passes of the season, or dribble into pickpocket conventions or miss lots of open jumpers and rebound put-backs and free throws. Kansas will get back on defense. It will dominate in the post and defend hard with hands especially high on Davidson’s shooters, and really especially high on the dude, who simply cannot be guarded with a hand in the chest. Kansas will not look as if its players were running up hill through mud. As for the psychology, I am sad to say I remain unenlightened. How can one team look so inspired, and the other, which we know well to be inspiration-capable, look so flat. Could it be that Davidson, whose student body is the size of a city high school, out-underdogged Wisconsin, another team that many believed undeserving of success? Could it be that the Badgers were stuck in the focus-killing hyperventilation of their impending doom? The biggest question of all: What might have been done differently? Would it have been different if UW had played the Wildcats like a believable contender (for example, Georgetown), expecting to be behind, working to stay within striking distance of a gap-closing move late in the game? Would that have mattered? There will be no shortage of opinions, but the mystery will remain unsolved. Sometimes the mystery of sports works in our favor, sometimes against us. That’s why we watch, I guess. In any case Davidson owes me a win over Kansas. It owes me for the angst I endured wondering if, hoping against, then knowing for sure that this amazing season is over. It owes me for the guilt I feel for my call-it-like-I-saw-it criticism of a team whose players I like and admire about as much as any of its Wisconsin predecessors. I don’t care that a Davidson win over Kansas would legitimize Friday’s loss, but I do care that it would knock Bruce off his perch as the Pride Pool’s highest standing Lagman. Who would replace him, you ask? Well, I would, assuming that UNC does its job and wins the title. This is especially important after reader Eric Evans, who asked to be called "an unnamed source within the Pride Pool family" released his statistical analysis of Pride Pool’s past five years. Turns out that Bruce’s average Pride score is six points higher than mine. My wife’s average is twenty points higher than his, which probably goes unnoticed because she brags a lot less. At least Eric had the compassion to refrain from calculating my mom’s average. So, Go Wildcats. Hey, we underdogs gotta stick together. To close, I want to express my gratitude to the Badgers. Believe it or not, I regret that I could not be there to cheer them on in their last game. They deserve that. Know that none of the observations I offer about the sour ending to their fine season should be read as critical of their effort or character. I know they wanted it more than any of us could even imagine. Michael was chasing and bouncing off picks and Joe was banging and skidding right up until the end. Lord knows, at 47 I understand the concept of not be able to make one’s body do what my mind commands. Those of you too stuck on bashing the Big Ten will fail to see what a remarkable accomplishment this 31-win season, with a collection of players who would not even have made the recruiting afterthought lists of the country’s major programs, has been. To prove my point, I ask this: Name a UW player who would be a starter on Duke or UNC or Memphis or UCLA? Yeah. That’s what I thought. So a trip to the Sweet Sixteen, a Big Ten Title, a conference tourney championship and hundreds of jump-out-of-our-seats thrills is pretty damn good. It didn’t beat Davidson, but I wouldn’t trade my team for any other. Quotes: "Don’t watch." –text message from Kelly, midway through second half. "Never again will I watch a basketball game in a football venue." –Kelly, 5-6, whose 20th row courtside seats were partially obstructed by the high-sitting fans in front of her. Shame on the NCAA for allowing this abomination. "This is all Georgetown’s fault." –astute NBI basketball analyst, promoting out-underdogged theory. "La la la la la la la la" –reader and DVR real-time simulator Geno Miller, trying and succeeding at shielding himself from outcome data coming from the K-State game. "There was a Michigan State fan running up and down the aisle taunting Badger fans. I thought Krabbenhoft’s dad was going to deck him. He should have." –Kelly at Ford Field. Dude. Like it was a proud day to be a Spartan. "This may be a blessing in disguise." –me at the end of a sleepless call night, realizing the good fortune of the reprieve from a seven hour drive to Detroit. _________ Nothing But Iron is an amateur sports column. ©2008 DrTM Enterprises. All rights reserved.