If I could start my life over again from my senior year in high school I would still, without a doubt, choose to attend the University of Wisconsin. Maybe I would apply to USC—because let's be honest, I still have to wonder what if\ I had saved Reggie Bush from drowning at a campus beach and thereafter was declared his biographer and lifetime groupie screener?—but I'd probably be denied admission and end up right back in Madison anyway.
And there's a lot to love about being a student here, mostly because it's the first time a lot of us have been on our own and Madison is the consummate backdrop for our respective comings-of-age. But if there is one thing I would improve about going to school here, it's the way our team plays basketball.
For a normal person, that has nothing to do with ""going to school here,"" because, no, it's not a graduation requirement that you follow or root for your team. But for me, the decision to enroll here after I got in—barely—had quite a bit to do with the fact that, naturally, I wanted to be amongst a lively fan base to make me feel more comfortable about my interest in sports.
If someone overhears me reference something said on ""Pardon the Interruption"" to an acquaintance in lecture, more often than not, I hear a faint and self-conscious chuckle coming from neighboring male students. Had I chosen to attend Beloit, for instance, I might get a sneer or a surprisingly vocal ""it's enough that you watch sports, but you actually watch people talk about them?""
Not here. We care. And, while my ""expertise,"" well, not really expertise at all (that's why I used quotations) but I'm still on board with Coach Ryan. The Badgers commonly fail to land top-notch recruits (usually they have to be brought along) so the methodical approach to the game serves the program well. Quite simply, you have to have a game plan that is going to level the playing field if you have to play guys like Dee or Shannon Brown twice a year.
But the style of play lacks a certain... I don't know what. Actually I do; it lacks a certain ""je ne sais quoi."" I desperately want to see more flair and athleticism, because not only is it more exciting to watch, an up-tempo style of play provides a margin for error. Holding the ball for 25 seconds every possession will compound mistakes and make the said team uncomfortable with—and incapable of overcoming—a deficit. I only wonder if the style of play I desire could benefit Wisconsin in the years to come. More on that in a minute.
If we learned anything from this year's exceptionally entertaining NCAA tournament, it's that an athlete, or team of athletes, can dictate the pace of the game and overwhelm a slower, more disciplined team. We also learned that athleticism has now become inversely proportional to field goal percentage, but I still enjoyed the games.
My Facebook friend Tyrus (though you probably know him as LSU freshman forward Tyrus Thomas) is a prime example of what is happening to college basketball. He has led his team to the Final Four and established himself as the clear front-runner for tourney MVP, all the while possessing a fairly limited basketball skill.
This case can be made for just about any player that stands 6'9'—generally, their crossover and 3-point proficiency wouldn't match up with 95 percent of collegiate guards in America. But still, Tyrus is the new prototype for successful major conference players. He's too young to have learned about every aspect of the game, but he's so talented that he still manages to control it.
The reason for all the ""upsets"" is that the mid-major teams have juniors and seniors who develop at schools far too obscure for the NBA to scout and snatch them up early. They continually learn, play together for a number of years (often under the same coach) and then have the opportunity to play against high-school all-star teams with ""North Carolina"" or ""Kansas"" written on the front of their jerseys.
It turns out that the George Mason Patriots are the NCAA's version of the Detroit Pistons. Their starting five is impeccable. The fat guy has an indefensible fade-away hook from the right block. The power forward has an indefensible jump hook from the left block. The off-guard and small forward defend and consistently knock down three's. And their point guard penetrates and scores in the lane with ease. They all average double-digits.
It looks as though the only teams that can stop them are Florida (who has two mini-Tyruses down low) or LSU (who has the life-size one). I start to think maybe Coach Ryan sees the future. Maybe he knows that he won't be recruiting athletic freaks who advance their teams much further than they should otherwise go—guys just like Thomas, Joakim Noah, Al Horford and the entire Memphis and George Washington teams. Because it looks as though the Badgers should take the mid-major approach, emphasizing things like synergy and composure while recruits at power-houses learn things like media savvy and out-of-court settlements—which don't help much come tournament time.
As four-year starters dwindle at big-time programs, mid-majors will advance further and further in March. Dick Vitale will be fired from ESPN for over-using the word diaper-dandy (as the would-be super-sophs have left for the NBA) and teams with players just raw enough not to get drafted will return to prominence.
I understand that suddenly starting to press full-court and trying to block shots with reckless abandon—while forgetting to block out—is only something you can do with guys like Thomas, not Brian Butch. The Badgers probably aren't capable of jacking up 80 shots per game if they can't jump over people and grab offensive boards for second and third chances.
But if we don't have luxury of being careless (equals exciting) is there something else we can take from this year's Final Four teams? Absolutely. Both George Mason and LSU have a rather large member of the frontcourt—GMU has Jai Lewis (listed at 275 lbs.) and LSU has Glen ""Big Baby"" Davis (listed at 310 lbs.), who happens to be my new favorite athlete. Both lead their (Final Four) teams in scoring.
Nick Hayden, it says here you're in Big Baby's weight class. If you're reading this buddy, we've got a roster spot with your name on it.
Contact Ben Hubner at bphubner@wisc.edu.\
