Going to the Rim, Forever UConn

Passover is well underway, and my husband is out washing feet tonight because it’s also Maundy Thursday. Before Easter gets the best of us, at least around here, I want to cast a backward glance and try to offer up a little tribute to the UConn Huskies, to nostalgia, and to that pesky ambivalence about big-time sports. All at once, if I may.

It was a little more than a week ago now that we enjoyed the back-to-back national championships of the men’s basketball team and then the women’s. I say, “we,” but of course it’s entirely possible that you paid absolutely no attention to the games—preferring to work out at the gym, pay bills, read a book, talk with a family member, go to bed at a reasonable hour, or perhaps watch a riveting (to some; I won’t mention any names) series like Boardwalk Empire instead.

It’s also entirely possible that you avoided watching even with some present or former connection to the University of Connecticut campus. But, let’s face it, that’s not likely; small-town Storrs really can generate powerful loyalty. Unless, that is, you are in a position to know more than the rest of us about a “shadow side” to all of the money, all of the hoopla, all of the skewed priorities at a public university supposedly dedicated to academics first.

Uh oh– I didn’t want my ambivalence to come into this quite so soon.

Let’s get some things straight. The basketball we just got to watch, in both Dallas and then in Nashville, was terrific, even inspiring. Shabazz Napier and Ryan Boatright are not only super-talented – Napier made shots falls from everywhere almost like magic; Boatright played relentless defense and got all up in everybody’s grill—but are also young men who have, not to sound trite, unquestionably overcome significant challenges in life.  And, on the women’s side, and I really would rather not pick out just a few of the stars here, Stefanie Dolson and Moriah Jefferson were awesome, besides being enviably cool, alongside the already famous Breanna Stewart.

The day after the women capped their flawless season, Jeff Jacobs wrote this in the Hartford Courant:  “They didn’t invent basketball in Storrs folks, but UConn can be forgiven if it feels like it perfected it this week.” No forgiveness necessary, I’d say.

So what if the rest of us have mostly already learned that perfection, or winning every single time, may not be the worthiest of goals—partly because it’s generally unattainable, partly because we can usually do more good for others when we’re not completely focused on our own achievements.

During the years we lived in Storrs, we got to attend just a handful of games with roaring crowds and throbbing excitement. Our eldest son did get to play right on the famous floor when he went to a summer basketball camp there.  A promising young player named Ben Gordon was just becoming a Husky then. Overall, though, we spent much more family time over at a smallish church, one built with bricks in a kind of unusual modern design with a line of bells going from top to bottom, than we did at the shimmering silver dome of Gampel Pavilion. This worked out just fine.

Once, though, when a brother of mine and his family came to visit, we had an experience that was, I don’t think I’m exaggerating to say this, truly dreamlike. It was one of those summer days with no life in the air, nothing much going on anywhere.  We drove up to campus, thought we’d just see if Gampel might be open. Not only did we find an unlocked door; when we got in, we saw a couple of players working out. Not only did we see them working out; they also invited us to come on down there with them. So we spent a glorious fifteen minutes with Anjou Deng (from Sudan) and Justin Brown (from Australia) – shooting around and shooting the breeze. They couldn’t have been more hospitable, on what was their floor, after all.

Now, I don’t tend to be easily star-struck or anything, but when I look at this picture of my son being hoisted up high to the basket by a big, and I do mean BIG, player, I think of all that’s good about having almost-professional athletes — the courteous kind anyway — right nearby, doing their thing for so many fans to enjoy.

Then again, anybody with sense can see that victory parades shouldn’t be reserved just for highly coordinated and also incredibly hardworking individuals who happen to succeed on the playing field or the court. What about those college students who are managing to handle their courses while caring for an ailing family member?  Or who have to work full-time just to afford college? They don’t get high-fived all over campus, but they could use some congratulations once in a while, too.

Well, obviously. You ever feel like you could have a full-fledged debate just with your own self?  It sure keeps things lively, especially when your spouse is often out performing ancient rituals. What I know for sure is this: we don’t all get to go to the rim and dunk, but each one of us sure could use some lifting up from time to time.