Below the Rim by Steve Lagman, Court Reporter December 1, 2005                                                                                                 If people had asked me during my five-day stay on the island of St. Thomas, USVI, I would have said I was there on assignment: to watch basketball, study the culture of the indigenous people, and report my findings promptly back to the boosters.  You should know that I was exposed to many hazards during my research: ultraviolet radiation, noise from the incessant pounding of surf on sand, deceptively inviting azure-colored bays concealing the corrosive properties of saltwater, cheap rum disguised by fruit and miniature umbrellas, people driving on the wrong side of the road, and no-see-ums–the island’s ubiquitous invisible biting insects.  I endured these challenges armed only with a credit card, SPF 15 sun block and a Speedo bathing suit.  I am kidding about the Speedo.  The first time I wear one is the first time I stand on a pool-side podium with an Olympic medal around my neck.  There ought to be legislation requiring background checks and mandatory waiting periods for guys buying Speedos. You might think there was a correlation between rum and left-of-center driving, but driving on the left is actually encouraged by territorial law.  I say encouraged, because St. Thomas is more about options than rules.  As it turns out, there are just five laws governing the Virgin Islands.  The first is the recommendation to drive on the left.  Nobody can seem to recall the other four.  To call it a culture of relaxation, is like referring to a hurricane as precipitation.  Even the iguanas shun convention, choosing to bask not on isolated rocks or fallen trees, but on the concrete steps of the main pathway from our hotel to the beach-front restaurants.  I was told that iguanas are attracted to the color red, an endearing trait from a Wisconsin fan’s perspective.  UW players entertained themselves and onlookers with tentative attempts to feed the scary-looking reptiles.  The Badgers might someday forget how they beat Eastern Kentucky in double overtime, but they will not likely forget the feeding of iguanas. During our visit, my wife and I were befriended by a group of estranged Wisconsin fans, who now consider themselves island residents.  “St. Thomas runs on island time,” explained Al and Deb, who had just returned from a six-month Caribbean sailing adventure on a boat by that same name.  Island time is standard time, plus or minus a few minutes or more, based on the simple premise that it is daytime when the sun rises, nighttime after it sets, and anything else is trivial.  The paucity (always wanted to use that word) of public clocks between the city of Char Amalie and the airport supported this notion.  I counted just one.  It was on the scoreboard in the University of the Virgin Islands gymnasium. If sunny days, white-sand beaches and crystalline water comprised the sterling silver setting of  our stay, then basketball was the diamond.  Calling the UVI gym an arena would betray the intimacy of the venue.  Great seats, a concentration of passionate fans behind our bench, coupled with drama and resiliency that far exceeded expectations, made for an early-season experience with a post-season flavor.  At times our guys looked young and unpolished, at other times brilliant.  Always they persevered.  In the end the Badgers hoisted the trophy–a plaque bearing a steel drum replica–and strutted about the gym proudly sporting orange Paradise Jam Championship caps.  Though the intensity of basketball provided stark contrast to the laid-back island existence, there were ample reminders that we were far from the Kohl Center.  Most colorful–though coaches may have used a different term–were the novice game announcers, whose voice-over-free-throw chatter made Matt Lepay sound like a graduate of the Midwest School of Mime.   Despite my heavy workload, departure day came fast.  On the drive to the airport I mistakenly drifted into the right-turn-only lane.  (Signs are not a strength of St. Thomas infrastructure.)  Police directed heavy traffic at the intersection.  As our car pulled ahead, I asked an officer if I could change back to the other lane.  At home a similar maneuver might have cost me $128.  She grinned and said in perfect tropical accent, “Yoor a tourist.  You cawn do whateva you like.”  Part of me was glad to return home to familiar weather, right-sided driving and a real day job in a 68-degree building, but part of me wondered if I had really seen enough and done enough to give an accurate accounting.  I realized, as I pulled a sweatshirt from my carry-on bag, that it would have to do.  Dutifully, I submit my report. __________ The above opinions, including those opinions written to look factual, are not necessarily those of the UW Athletic Department, the Badger Basketball Boosters or anyone else. The author apologizes for having offended any male persons who prefer the silly-looking free-spiritedness of Speedo swim wear, however, that was his intent.  The author receives no corporate support from Speedo, Inc., and after this issue never will.