Hello all,
1941 was a good year. I do not remember it, nor do I know anyone other than Ken Brown who does. It was wartime and the highlights of that skirmish have been printed in texts that are well past their twentieth edition. Time is relative, but the Fabulous 50's have passed. Those that hung the title of fabulous on the decade are in nursing homes verbally annoyed with young people on the Wheel of Fortune who will, "Take the patio lawn furniture for $2,800.00". The sixties are gone with the time as well. A period of 10 fleeting years of free love and acid cool-aid parties. Ken Brown speaks highly of this decade, but he can only account for 3 of the 10 years. Disco lived and died in the 70's. An equally defining decade for Mr. Brown that provided his current wardrobe. I can speak first hand of the 80's. It was defined by dairy cows and college loan debt. I assume both loom over everyone's head with equal fragrance and weight. The 90's are gone as well. They were as fleeting as that one weekend we experienced Fall here in Barrow. We are now in a new millennium. I'm sick of the shit and the hype so I will not talk too much about it, only to say that it has passed. Passed for me with the fan fare of a Sons of Norway Parade in a three street Wisconsin town named after some German oaf who didn't have the intestinal fortitude to settle even as far west as damn Mormons did.
1941 is significant for me in that it was the last time that a college basketball team from the University of Wisconsin made it to the Final Four. Now, for my midwestern chums, the final four are not the last four beers in the fridge that you hide behind the Half and Half container. For my teaching friends, I'm not referring to the Final Four as that small band of mouth breathers in your class that if they were only referred to Special Ed. your CAT5 scores would reflect your true teaching abilities. To my wife, I am not referring to the last few years of real living you had before you met me. For my Alaskan friends, the Final Four does not mean the fictitious pod of recent offspring that you claim exists when you fill out your Permanent Fund Dividend applications each year. The Final Four I refer to is the last four teams to survive the NCAA basketball tournament.
The Badgers this year are the most unlikely entrants into this elite class. A national sports writer had the following to say about them, "So the plow horse makes the Derby field, The karaoke baritone gets to sing with the Three Tenors, someone has put a flea collar in with the crown jewels, a butter churn next to the microwave." He went on," This team is so deliberate that a police sketch artist can be used instead of instant replay." He has a right to say his piece, and so do I. I paid 50 cents to access his dribble and you are getting mine for free.
Analogies are getting harder and harder to find. The David and Goliath thing has been beat to death by the Jesus folk and their favorite book. Walt Disney messed up a totally great basketball term for an underdog in Cinderella and the movie Hoosiers' has the rights to any heart tugging tripe that sports is capable producing. What the Badgers do have is a chance.
A chance to show on a national forum that no single part is greater than the whole. A chance to be a part of an accomplishment that begs the examination of even the most talented of coaches, athletes, and programs. A chance to exhaust the capabilities of a system created by a coach who has spent the last 35 years of his life teaching and coaching the game of basketball in the state of Wisconsin.
This weekend they take the court against a more talented team. That is not new. The will play a team that has already beaten them this season. That is not new. They will play a quicker, taller, stronger, deeper, and more experienced team. That is not new. They will be playing Michigan State. That is not new. They will be in the Final Four, and even that is not new, but since only Ken Brown remembers that 1941 game, I thought I might spend some time talking about it.
If you sit down and watch the games this weekend do not root for the underdog for the sake of rooting for the under dog. Do not root for the flashiest team for the sake of image identification. Do not root for a team for geographical regional identification purposes. Do not root for Michigan State! This is a moot point as God(s) was/were wise enough to put a real big damn lake between those bastards and Wisconsin.
Bruce