As the healing process continues from my purple and gold wounds, it’s still hard for me to watch or listen to anything sporting-event related. However, I found myself watching the Marquette-UConn game earlier today. Having given into temptation shortly into the second half, I knew I was only readying myself for another heart-breaking defeat. MU was hanging with the mighty Huskies, who recently whomped then-No. 1 Texas. Chances were the undersized Warriors would fall in yet another close contest with a ranked opponent.
Marquette is 2-4 versus ranked Big East opponents this season, yeeouch. The kicker in those games was that – aside from the contest at Syracuse – MU lost by a combined total of 6 points in 4 contests. They should have won each of those games; missed free throws in the waning seconds doomed them each time.
The reason they were so close in those games is the underrated defense, energy and chemistry this team has built. Buzz Williams has done quite a job keeping the team focused and ready to play after that other guy up and left. ‘Nova’s an explosive team; Marquette gave up 74 and 78 points to the Wildcats in each of their matchups. In their other Big East contests, MU held Georgetown, West Virginia, DePaul and UConn to an average of 60 points. (Oh, by the way, Marquette beat that Georgetown team who today creamed No. 7 Duke)
OK, back to the game. There I sat, braced for that sinking feeling, when I see David Cubillan, in a low defensive stance at the top of the key, clapping enthusiastically, psyching himself up and daring his man to beat him. Now MU had just missed a field goal and the game was tied. . .2 minutes and change left and Coob was fired up and glued on his man. I like what I see.
The D clamped down on the Huskies to end the game and give MU a much-needed Big East win. That Jimmy Butler guy? Yeah, he’s alright, too.
The 2009-2010 version of the Marquette Golden Eagles brings energy and defense to the floor every time. The home stretch should (should being the operative word) be friendly to them after a tough start and give the Golden Eagles a chance to build some serious MO come tourney time.
Disaster averted this day. Feels good to savor victory again.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
What's That Feeling?
Truth is, the game never should have come down to that throw. Like the Giants contest at frigid Lambeau Field two years prior, Brett Favre should not have been the game-breaker in the NFC Championship. Opportunities fell in both the Vikings’ and Packers’ laps the nights of their respective championship contents, but neither team could capitalize. Both times, Favre put the final nail in the coffin and felt the sting of defeat.
The worst part of it all? The Vikings were the better team Sunday night. Had it not been for even one of their 3 fumbles, the Vikings would have dominated the Saints, who didn’t seem to realize they were playing for a trip to the Super Bowl. For that matter, neither did the Vikings, who literally gave the championship away. All week, I braced myself for defeat, knowing how explosive the Saints’ offense and how vulnerable our secondary was. Like many fellow Vikes fans, however, I expected a win. That’s what I was thinking; what I felt was an entirely different story.
All day leading up to the game, I had the eerie feeling that the game was already lost. Like there is no sense in playing, history's already written. I told myself it was the magnitude of the game. All my purple friends were confident; why wasn’t I?
Then the game started. Wow, pound that ball in on the first drive to go up 7-0. Confidence builds. Looking back, the way the first half ended was like an omen – the Saints were handing the Vikes the game, but inexperience . . . jitters . . . something caused them to lose focus (and the ball) all night. But they were still in it.
Fast forward to 2:37 left in the game. The Vikings have the ball in the perfect scenario. This is it – beat up all day, Favre and Co. could put the game away on one last, glorious drive to Miami. I’m confident now, after seeing the Vikes fight and claw to stay in the game. This is their time. No, I wouldn’t let myself think it, but I could feel it. The dream was real.
Then it happened.
No, not the pick . . . not yet. It was back – that feeling. As the Vikes lined up after the 2 minute break, my excitement vanished and I was left with an odd, anticlimactic, emptiness. As if I already knew, a foreshadowing of sorts.
The rest is history. Several questionable calls and one weighty questionable decision later, New Orleans was ecstatic and the Vikings were done. Overtime was merely a delay of the inevitable, a prolonging of the misery. Such a perfect, promising season had come to a heart-pounding climax and quickly screeched to a bitter, gut-wrenching, inexplicable end. That feeling of mine? I’m sad to say there was something to it. It could have been the ghosts of Lambeau, making sure Favre's career ended the way it was supposed to in 2007. Or it could have been the result of Minnesota just never putting the game away - a game they should have won by the third quarter.
Some say the journey is the reward. Many expected – and all of us in the purple and gold nation hoped – it would end in Miami. Nevertheless, the 2009 season was quite the ride. The memories should not be tarnished by the way the season ended . . . although we’ll all inevitably wonder “What if?”
The worst part of it all? The Vikings were the better team Sunday night. Had it not been for even one of their 3 fumbles, the Vikings would have dominated the Saints, who didn’t seem to realize they were playing for a trip to the Super Bowl. For that matter, neither did the Vikings, who literally gave the championship away. All week, I braced myself for defeat, knowing how explosive the Saints’ offense and how vulnerable our secondary was. Like many fellow Vikes fans, however, I expected a win. That’s what I was thinking; what I felt was an entirely different story.
All day leading up to the game, I had the eerie feeling that the game was already lost. Like there is no sense in playing, history's already written. I told myself it was the magnitude of the game. All my purple friends were confident; why wasn’t I?
Then the game started. Wow, pound that ball in on the first drive to go up 7-0. Confidence builds. Looking back, the way the first half ended was like an omen – the Saints were handing the Vikes the game, but inexperience . . . jitters . . . something caused them to lose focus (and the ball) all night. But they were still in it.
Fast forward to 2:37 left in the game. The Vikings have the ball in the perfect scenario. This is it – beat up all day, Favre and Co. could put the game away on one last, glorious drive to Miami. I’m confident now, after seeing the Vikes fight and claw to stay in the game. This is their time. No, I wouldn’t let myself think it, but I could feel it. The dream was real.
Then it happened.
No, not the pick . . . not yet. It was back – that feeling. As the Vikes lined up after the 2 minute break, my excitement vanished and I was left with an odd, anticlimactic, emptiness. As if I already knew, a foreshadowing of sorts.
The rest is history. Several questionable calls and one weighty questionable decision later, New Orleans was ecstatic and the Vikings were done. Overtime was merely a delay of the inevitable, a prolonging of the misery. Such a perfect, promising season had come to a heart-pounding climax and quickly screeched to a bitter, gut-wrenching, inexplicable end. That feeling of mine? I’m sad to say there was something to it. It could have been the ghosts of Lambeau, making sure Favre's career ended the way it was supposed to in 2007. Or it could have been the result of Minnesota just never putting the game away - a game they should have won by the third quarter.
Some say the journey is the reward. Many expected – and all of us in the purple and gold nation hoped – it would end in Miami. Nevertheless, the 2009 season was quite the ride. The memories should not be tarnished by the way the season ended . . . although we’ll all inevitably wonder “What if?”
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Big Whee! Vikes Dominate 'Boys in Divisional Playoff
The wait was nearly unbearable; you could feel the anxiety, the excitement. All of it building, building as we waited for our boys – no, not the ones from Dallas, they had already pranced onto the field and were taunting the crowd and showboating in typical Cowgirl form. Then it came – that sound, once for me a tone that indicated trouble or defeat, now a glorious sound symbolizing triumph and victory - the Vikings' horn. Game on.
Would the Vikings lay an egg on the heels of a 2-3 end to the regular season? Would Favre fail in the playoffs? Are the Cowboys as good as the experts hype them to be? All of these questions were answered with exclamations from the Vikings and the book on the divisional round slammed shut after a 34-3 trouncing of Jerry Jones’ crew. Go home, Tony Romo and Co.; today’s is the Vikings’ day. For someone with a fear of flying, even the plane ride back to good old Wisconsin was enjoyable on this day. High fiving fellow Vikings fans through security and strutting to my gate in a purple and gold #4 jersey with a grin on my face was the icing on the cake. Not even looking to next week; time to enjoy this one for a while.
Would the Vikings lay an egg on the heels of a 2-3 end to the regular season? Would Favre fail in the playoffs? Are the Cowboys as good as the experts hype them to be? All of these questions were answered with exclamations from the Vikings and the book on the divisional round slammed shut after a 34-3 trouncing of Jerry Jones’ crew. Go home, Tony Romo and Co.; today’s is the Vikings’ day. For someone with a fear of flying, even the plane ride back to good old Wisconsin was enjoyable on this day. High fiving fellow Vikings fans through security and strutting to my gate in a purple and gold #4 jersey with a grin on my face was the icing on the cake. Not even looking to next week; time to enjoy this one for a while.
OMG Sid and A.P. in Touchable Distance
What a perfect way to start Divisional Playoff Sunday. Saunter into the stadium roughly 2 hours before kickoff, as anxious as a kid on Christmas Eve, and who do we stumble upon? Why, it’s Adrian Peterson and Sidney Rice, dressed up to the nines just chillin’ by the concession stands! I must admit, I was a bit worried about the stars hanging out, still dressed in street clothes, a mere 2 hours prior to kickoff. . .but A.P. assures me it’s OK.
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