One of the most enduring benefits of travel is the way in which in tends to open your eyes to the world. Visiting new places and seeing how the people there live helps to give context and face to otherwise impersonal news stories. I cannot, for instance, read a story about the plight of a group of people in Africa without thinking about my friends in Zonkizizwe. Similarly, where before I probably would have hardly glanced at this Washington Post article on a recent surge in sectarian violence in Belfast, I now find it somewhat haunting. I think about Bobby, our Catholic cab driver and tour guide, and about the little boy and girl, playing soccer in front of a giant, graphic mural in one of the Protestant neighborhoods, giggling and arguing over who would kick the ball next.
A soaring "peace wall," 11 meters high and more than five kilometers long, separates the areas of Belfast where the Catholic and Protestant neighborhoods directly intersect. Gates in the wall close every evening, in an effort to keep small incidents from flaring up into a more serious situation that could threaten the stability of the peace. As illustrated by this latest riot, even with these precautions and after more than a decade of peace, tensions remain quite high.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
A trip to Garyland
It has been an eventful year for Maryland athletics. When Ralph Friedgen was fired last December, I was not pleased. But, after learning more about his contractual situation, I came to understand why the university did it. I am still not wholly comfortable with the execution of his dismissal, but I like most of what I've seen from Coach Randy Edsall so far and am excited for the upcoming season.
My feelings about Gary Williams are different, and a good deal more complicated. As the legendary, longtime Maryland men’s basketball team’s head coach, he has always had my undying and unequivocal love and support. Further, not that anyone could have conceivably been seriously discussing firing him, but I’m glad that he decided to leave on his own terms. Clearly, no Terps fan could honestly claim to be fully satisfied with the team’s performance of late. Some translated this frustration into a grumbling anti-Gary stance. I always opted, instead, to believe that if anyone could lead Maryland back to college basketball’s elite, it was Gary Williams.
Why he chose that day in May to abruptly retire is as much a mystery as why I’ve not found inspiration to write about it until now. The search process that followed was dizzying and, at times, maddening, but I find myself very pleased with Mark Turgeon so far, and even cautiously eager to see what he brings to the table in the years to come. Increasingly, I am at peace with Gary’s decision to move on.
Many have put together tributes and appreciations of him far more memorable and poignant than what I am capable of doing here. So instead, I’ll just all of the things I love and will miss most about Gary Williams.
ONE. Coaches are responsible for motivating athletes and pushing them to accomplish great feats. In my opinion, no one did this better than Gary, stomping up and down the sideline, face red and sweat-soaked, throwing his jacket and hollering strings of curse words that could be heard up in the student section (and, often, clearly lip-read on TV). People say he was a great X’s and O’s coach. I’m sure this is true, but I’m in no position to assess that. But I do know that his unbridled emotion and unapologetic passion was infectious – reflected in his players and fans alike. And the thought of him joyfully jumping around after a particularly big victory gives me chills.
TWO. Learning the words to the Gary Williams Song as a freshman and all of the glorious AIM away messages it provided over the years (“If I were a girl, I’d be his ho.”)
THREE. I’ve heard Comcast Center referred to as The House that Gary Built, but I think that his impact has actually been much broader. It is true - many of Maryland’s 27 varsity sports teams have been remarkably successful over the past decade and a half, including traditional powers like lacrosse and men’s soccer, as well as new ones, such as wrestling. Concurrently, and just as importantly, the academic standards of the institution have skyrocketed, with Maryland now widely recognized as a Top 20 public research university. Much of the school’s rise can be attributed to Gary Williams. Not just because of the national interest generated by the final fours and national championship, but also due to his tireless advocacy and fundraising for his alma mater. The entire campus owes Gary an almost incalculable debt of gratitude.
FOUR. The hilariousness of seeing Gary coach in pre-season tournaments on a tropical island somewhere, clad in casual polos or colorful Hawaiian shirts utterly incongruous with the scowl on his face.
FIVE. Always straightforward, Gary never shied from speaking his mind. This permeated his post-game interviews and, especially, his conduct on the recruiting trail. Some have been particularly critical of Gary’s recruiting over the years, as high profile local talent left the DC/Baltimore area and won big elsewhere. But, after pulling the program up from its crippled, NCAA-sanctioned state in the late 80’s, Gary can hardly be blamed for finding some of the sleaziness in college basketball unpalatable. I always admired his honesty.
SIX. The fact that even Maryland fans’ favorite villain, Coach K, deeply respected Gary, counted him as a close friend, and frequently said so.
SEVEN. There’s a reason why all students loved Gary Williams – why even those from out of state, with no history of rooting for the program, quickly developed deep ties with their head coach. Gary always cared deeply about the students. You could often read his mood based on the intensity and tenor of his iconic fist pump to the student section (it usually registered somewhere between simply fired-up and defiantly so). In his post-game interviews with Johnny Holliday, Gary was always quick to thank the crowd - particularly the students - for their support and, on those dismaying occasions where appropriate, he was blunt about criticizing fans for not showing up (both literally and figuratively).
EIGHT. The moments of unexpected wit and humor that would sneak into most of his interviews.
NINE. Gary Williams was a constant. Since graduating four years ago, most of my connections to campus have gradually dissolved – fellow students have moved on, former co-workers have changed positions, professors have long since forgotten my name. The institution that I remember so fondly does not really remember me. Watching Gary Williams coach was a bridge to the past, for me and, I suspect, many others who have graduated over the past two decades. As much as the rest of my life has changed since college, having Gary on the sidelines as a stoic, sweaty constant has been exceptionally comforting to me. I have little doubt that I will soon come to love Mark Turgeon, particularly if he manages to build a consistently successful program. But part of me is always going to miss Gary Williams, and be nostalgic for the era of both Maryland basketball and, less directly, my life that he represents.
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