Flynn brings it down. He jukes Hazell and passes behind his back to Rick Jackson. Jackson performs his own form of razzle dazzle getting the ball to Onuaku who pops an easy two. Harris steals and drives the lane finding Rautins in the right corner. Whoosh! It’s good for three. BABYYYYYY!
That can only mean one thing. It’s Big East tournament time. Dick Vitale warm up your vocals. Here comes the ‘Cuse.
I love March when Syracuse is playing well.
They clobbered St. John’s, trashed Cincinnati, annihilated Rutgers, and then edged out then No. 13-ranked Marquette. How sweet it was, and about time. I actually felt good coming in. Last year, Syracuse sucked, but this year the Orange secured a sixth seed by peaking here at the end of the regular season. How ‘bout them apples!
Riding their four-win comet, they mightily defeated Seton Hall last night despite nasty attitudes and intentional fouls. Since Garcia couldn’t fend off Onuaku, I guess he thought he’d out-mouth him—more than once! At one point almost everyone on the court tried to mix it up. I’ve never seen the Orange behave like T.O.—ever! That’s not their style; they’re typically poised and all about playing the game. Although, I must admit it was mildly entertaining. Devendorf bared his teeth one minute, then performed the I-put-3-in-yo-face dance the next. Lucky that display didn’t land him a technical coming off the recent near-melee, though. Boeheim would have been chewing some “glut,” BIGTIME.
Just one time, one game I’d like to commentate. If I must listen to their…uh ummm…opinions, it’s only fair they should have to listen to mine. Don’t you agree?
I’m taken back to a memorable basketball era.
The year – 2006.
The star – Gerry McNamara, who was in the Garden supporting his former teammates last night, still looking very “Gerry-ish” I might add.
Me – I had no hair, but did have a fantastic wig. Hurricane Rita only recently wiped out my favorite gambling hall, Harrah’s in Lake Charles. Didn’t matter, though, because we weren’t traveling at that time anyway. I couldn’t be around public germs. My mom was still alive, playing with Little Blackie and lighting up our lives. My co-workers teased me for falling asleep at my desk, head on a blanket with a thin line of drool adorning my chin. Radiation just completed, I was dedicated to walking myself back to health. The Rosemary Street neighborhood was alive with buds, greenery, chirping birds, and a loose dog or two, just to help restore my mental alertness. At first, I could barely put one foot in front of the other. Just making it out the back door at work and down the alley was a cumbersome effort. By the start of the tournament, however, I was strolling the stretch at a fairly quick clip. I was never so alive as when walking that route, experiencing the rebirth of that spring. It was a glorious time to be alive.
After their whomping Big East tournament victory, ‘Cuse had to play A&M in their first round!
That can only mean one thing. It’s Big East tournament time. Dick Vitale warm up your vocals. Here comes the ‘Cuse.
I love March when Syracuse is playing well.
They clobbered St. John’s, trashed Cincinnati, annihilated Rutgers, and then edged out then No. 13-ranked Marquette. How sweet it was, and about time. I actually felt good coming in. Last year, Syracuse sucked, but this year the Orange secured a sixth seed by peaking here at the end of the regular season. How ‘bout them apples!
Riding their four-win comet, they mightily defeated Seton Hall last night despite nasty attitudes and intentional fouls. Since Garcia couldn’t fend off Onuaku, I guess he thought he’d out-mouth him—more than once! At one point almost everyone on the court tried to mix it up. I’ve never seen the Orange behave like T.O.—ever! That’s not their style; they’re typically poised and all about playing the game. Although, I must admit it was mildly entertaining. Devendorf bared his teeth one minute, then performed the I-put-3-in-yo-face dance the next. Lucky that display didn’t land him a technical coming off the recent near-melee, though. Boeheim would have been chewing some “glut,” BIGTIME.
Just one time, one game I’d like to commentate. If I must listen to their…uh ummm…opinions, it’s only fair they should have to listen to mine. Don’t you agree?
I’m taken back to a memorable basketball era.
The year – 2006.
The star – Gerry McNamara, who was in the Garden supporting his former teammates last night, still looking very “Gerry-ish” I might add.
Me – I had no hair, but did have a fantastic wig. Hurricane Rita only recently wiped out my favorite gambling hall, Harrah’s in Lake Charles. Didn’t matter, though, because we weren’t traveling at that time anyway. I couldn’t be around public germs. My mom was still alive, playing with Little Blackie and lighting up our lives. My co-workers teased me for falling asleep at my desk, head on a blanket with a thin line of drool adorning my chin. Radiation just completed, I was dedicated to walking myself back to health. The Rosemary Street neighborhood was alive with buds, greenery, chirping birds, and a loose dog or two, just to help restore my mental alertness. At first, I could barely put one foot in front of the other. Just making it out the back door at work and down the alley was a cumbersome effort. By the start of the tournament, however, I was strolling the stretch at a fairly quick clip. I was never so alive as when walking that route, experiencing the rebirth of that spring. It was a glorious time to be alive.
After their whomping Big East tournament victory, ‘Cuse had to play A&M in their first round!
It was major, too, because TAMU was making their first appearance in the NCAA tournament since 1987. Furthermore, the Aggies, who hadn’t won an NCAA game since 1980, were intent on breaking that agony-of-defeat streak. What’s a fan to do?
Mike was beside himself. He walked around for days saying, “I don’t care who wins. It’s all good.” I’m afraid his loyalty to both teams was only marginally skewed toward the old home-town team, but I remained “Syracuseeeee Ball” all the way.
On game day, Mike was true to his stance. He settled on the edge of the recliner, celebratory Corona in hand, dressed in his Syracuse Orange t-shirt, maroon Aggie tee draped ceremoniously across right shoulder. Win or lose, he was having a victory.
12th-ranked A&M edged out my 5th-ranked Orangemen 66 – 58 that year. Dominique Kirk shut Gerry down, holding him to a measly two points in his final game at Syracuse. Ahhhh, that was quite an NCAA tourney, quite a Big East championship, and quite a year.
Tonight, Syracuse must face #3-UConn, or should I say #1-Thabeet, again! I hope their momentum yields a better outcome than the previous meeting where Thabeet creamed our netters. He’s such a giant, he seems to get away with blocks most would consider a foul. Madison Square Garden better have good Refs. I don’t care how important you are or what titles you’ve won, you can’t smash players to the floor or go over the top.
Go Orange! Long-live maroon & white.
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