"The ball is tipped, and there you are..."

I don't know how any Maryland fan could not feel giddy at this news, that the annual Alumni Game at Midnight Madness will feature the likes of Juan Dixon, Steve Blake, Byron Mouton, and Chris Wilcox.  A large chunk of the 2002 National Title team, back on the court together?  Seems too good to be true.

That team (and its earlier iterations from the preceding couple of years) helped me, and so many other kids my age, fall deeply in love with Terps basketball just in time for college applications.  Intrigued by the start of the Mark Turgeon era and watching the soccer game on campus earlier that evening, I was already planning to attend Midnight Madness this year (it's even at midnight again!).  But this absolutely seals the deal.

I'm excited for the upcoming season, even though the prevailing wisdom says that we are going to have a rocky time of it.  Although I will always love and miss Gary Williams, the uncertainty and energy surrounding the new direction of this team is actually quite exhilarating.

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.

The best Christmas gift

Well, taking time spent with family and good friends out of the equation, this is the best.  Better than new sheets, new slippers, and gift cards (and certainly better than this book, which my brother bought for me as a joke).

Pre-holiday hodgepodge

For some reason, the hectic pace of the holiday season seems to stunt my ability to fully formulate eloquent thoughts.  So, in an effort to not completely neglect my blog this December, outlined below are a few things that have been on my mind.  I may expand on some of them, either in the lull between Christmas and New Year’s Eve or later down the road, or I may not.

The historic repeal, this past weekend, of the Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell ban on gays serving openly in the military pleases me - both because the policy was discriminatory and detrimental and because it will quiet some of the annoying squawking coming from the left.  Though I don’t inherently care as much about this aspect of gay rights as, say, marriage equality, it is, nevertheless, a momentous step in the right direction for our country.

On the topic of Congressional action, I’ve also been very happy with the pace and bipartisan nature of the “lame duck” session.  Since returning to Washington after the elections, Congress has gotten quite a bit done: a tax deal and economic stimulus that angered the more ideological wings of both parties (which, to me, makes it all the more appealing), progress toward a vote on the crucial New START nuclear arms reduction treaty with Russia, and, of course, the aforementioned DADT repeal.  The failure of the Dream Act is truly disheartening and New START is not yet ratified, but, for once, pragmatism has seemed to characterize the overall course of events in Washington more than frustrating partisan gridlock (with some notable exceptions).

In a break with the child-like excitement of years past, I reacted to this season’s first snow – a small one, at that – with a sense of barely contained distaste.  Perhaps a remnant of last winter’s blizzard fatigue, perhaps simply an indication that I have become a 25 year old curmudgeon.

I have not yet read this book, recommended by Andrew Sullivan, but, as an imaginative exercise in philosophies and interpretations of the afterlife, it sounds fascinating.  Thought-provoking excerpts here.

Egged on by a candy-filled advent calendar and the abundance of sweets that show up on the office’s kitchen table during the holidays, I find myself recently unable to resist the following things: Reesee’s Peanut Butter Cups, chocolate chip cookies, ginger cookies, and cupcakes.

It alarms me, in a somewhat glum, existential way, that 2011 is just two weeks away.

Recently, I received the first hard copy in my subscription to The Atlantic.  Occasionally, I am struck with frivolous ideas when it comes to reading – that I should buy a non-fiction book based on the interesting-sounding description on the back cover, without first investigating reviews and verifying its readability, for example, or the perpetually incorrect assumption that I possess the patience and intellectual curiosity to fully digest an issue of The Economist.  I’m hoping The Atlantic does not fall victim to a similar fate - so far, I’m doing ok.

Michael Giacchino’s beautiful score from Lost continues to delight and haunt me, six months after the series finale.  Grooveshark allows me to listen whenever I am the mood for a transportively emotional experience.

Given the proper appetite and a particularly tasty batch, I could probably eat an entire carton of Clementines.

Over the past week, the way that Maryland has treated head coach Ralph Friedgen, an alum who led the program back to national relevancy a decade ago, is despicable.  He deserves better than to have unnamed sources from the university fuel rumors about his status, particularly after orchestrating a huge turnaround season and winning ACC coach of the year.  Most dishonorable, to me, is the conduct of our new A.D., Kevin Anderson, who earlier this season definitively confirmed Friedgen’s job security for next year and now, as of this afternoon, has officially reneged on his show of support.  This has been handled unreasonably poorly and, combined with the basketball team’s mounting losses and the heartbreak of the premature end to soccer season, has sapped most of my enthusiasm for Terps sports (for now, at least).

I’m disappointed that tonight’s lunar eclipse is going to happen while I’m asleep.

Life is far too fleeting to give up, even temporarily, the pursuit of happiness.

Everywhere we follow

As a college student, I followed the Maryland men’s soccer team very closely.  Spurred by my proximity to campus and, more than anything, the stirring community of alums and students that lives and dies with the team’s success, I have continued to attend games in the years since graduation, albeit less frequently. I’ve done some seemingly crazy things over the years for the Terps, mostly related to far-flung road (or plane) trips, made especially inconvenient because of departure time, proximity to exams or holidays, or both.

One thing, however, that I’ve never experienced first hand is an ACC championship.  Maryland defeated UNC 1-0 yesterday to take home the trophy (our second in the past three seasons!).  For all of the six hour bus trips back and forth to what was once called SAS Soccer Stadium, in Cary, NC, I have never seen the Terps win the conference tournament in person.  This weekend was no different, as a visit with David in Middletown, PA prevented me from joining the rest of the Crew on this weekend’s road trip.  But my absence couldn’t keep me from getting nostalgic - the victorious celebration, the joyous text messages, the DOTS bus.  All make me miss that particular corner of my college experience so, so much.

On the bright side, the Terps are not done.  I think this team could be special.  This year’s College Cup will be taking place in Santa Barbara in a few weeks.  Perhaps, if Maryland can get there, my Southwest voucher will get me there too.  Until then, you can find me at Ludwig, cherishing the experience of supporting college soccer’s finest team.

Maybe I can go to Brazil in four years

ESPN The Magazine has a nice piece reflecting on the ongoing recovery of Charlie Davies, the U.S. soccer national team star who almost died in a car accident about a year ago.  Despite the severity of the crash, Davies set a goal of returning for this past summer's World Cup in South Africa.  Once it became evident that that was not going to happen, rather than become despondent, he dug in and concentrated on rehabbing his injury at his own pace.

It sounds like he's making significant progress, and I would not be surprised if, by the time the next World Cup rolls around (or, most likely, much sooner), Davies is once again using his blazing speed to rack up goals for the American side, seeking out soccer glory.  With luck, maybe I can find a way to be on hand to watch.

"Feel it, it is here"

When I have the time to compose something a little more thoughtful, I plan to write much, much more about my trip around South Africa and, specifically, about my time spent volunteering in Zonkizizwe.  In the aftermath of yesterday's World Cup final, though, I felt compelled to share this photo.

It's out of focus and overexposed, but, I think, captures the spirit of the epically popular tournament's first trip to Africa quite well.  Kids, armed with boundless energy and the creative ball skills that come from playing soccer everyday, would run circles around us in the dusty yard.  Each night, in the week leading up to the opening match, a chorus of vuvuzelas would echo throughout the township, blaring loudly and fading into the distance as children paraded around, filling the air with exultant, noisy anticipation.  On the afternoon of the first match, we painted dozens of faces with South African colors (matching the flags lining seemingly every major street elsewhere in the country), sang the national anthem, and chattered excitedly about Bafana Bafana's chances.

There has been much discussion, both in South Africa and in the media coverage back home, about whether or not hosting the World Cup was worthwhile.  Large construction projects and a surge in tourism boosted the economy, but new stadiums are expensive, and several will now sit empty.  However, economic calculations aside, I feel there is no question that the tournament was positive for the country.  All you need to do is look at the faces of these kids and others like them who, despite being historically and systematically disadvantaged in just about every imaginable way, take an extraordinary amount of joy and national pride in hosting such a presigious event.  It is lastingly and unquestionably moving.

Spring thaw

Last week, I traveled to Penn State for an annual architecture recruitment fair. Our company is doing pretty well, but we’re not currently hiring. It’s kind of depressing to have to tell that to all of these kids, particularly when I know they’re hearing the same thing from all of the other firms as well. It’s just a bad year to be graduating from college and looking for a job.

Aside from disappointing scores of college students, I got to watch the Terps upset Cal in the tournament. Luckily they showed almost the entire game on TV, since the one they started out airing (UConn) quickly became a blowout. I was watching in the bar at my hotel. There were maybe three other people there, until some rowdy, grizzled old Maryland fans appeared. Their TV was lagging about five seconds behind mine, so every time something exciting happened, I could expect a sharp, delayed whoop from across the room.

Friday was the first day of Spring, and when I woke up and looked out the window, it was snowing State College. The snow continued to fall throughout the morning, but it didn’t stick. One on one interviews with students were fine, but still kind of a bummer. Lunch at Jimmy Johns was ok, although I feel as though I could've found something better in pedestrian friendly downtown. And because nothing goes with snow like ice cream, I bought a half gallon tub of “Mint Nittany” flavored deliciousness to take home with me, packed with dry ice to survive the four hour drive.

Yesterday it was beautiful outside. It was the first day in months that we were able to comfortably sit on our sunny front porch. Wearing a t-shirt and sandals, I napped, read the newspaper, and feasted on farmers’ market bread, fruit, and cheese. Flowers are beginning to grow in the garden. Ivan, the potted ivy sitting on the railing, is looking less dead. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said of Samia and Yolanda. Today is colder, but I am very, very excited about the inevitable spring weather to come.

There's something about March

I didn't used to like March very much. Unless Easter falls early, there are no days off of school. My birthday is six months away. The weather is kind of crummy and St. Patrick's Day is only fun once you're old enough to drink.

But that was before I paid much attention to college basketball. There is nothing quite like the NCAA tournament. Those first couple of days are frenetic and amazing - when games are on TV from dawn 'til past bedtime and when the success of your bracket makes you care about matchups like Dayton vs. West Virginia. Cinderella teams make for great stories (as long as they are not upsetting the Terps) and raw emotion makes everything more compelling.

Maryland made the field this year, a rare pleasure the past couple of seasons. As I am filling out my bracket, I am left to ponder several questions: Is it worth probably losing money to send a 10 seed to the championship? Will Binghamton pull off the upset? Can I really pick a team with the mascot "Lumberjacks" to lose in the first round? I may end up filling out two brackets, but if I had only shot, then yes, Maryland would obviously win it all; yes, Duke would bow out in the first round; and yes, Stephen F. Austin would march into the sweet sixteen.

Because between Selection Sunday and the first games on Thursday, it's all about hopeful euphoria. This kind of reminds of my perpetual optimism surrounding the Orioles each Spring Training - another one of March's saving graces. Once the tournament begins, reality will sink in, game by game. But until then, the fans of 65 teams are allowed to indulge in these dreams. In baseball, teams have 162 games to revert to form. Alone, each win is insignificant, because it usually takes 90 to have a special season. In the NCAA's, it only takes six. That's what makes the tournament so magical - each and every team is just a short winning streak away from "One Shining Moment."

Anything is possible. Let's dance!

How 'bout a baseball game?

Dear Mark Teixeira,

Please sign with the Orioles. I know they’re probably not offering as much money as the Red Sox, but you have to understand that Peter Angelos isn’t a great owner. In his defense, we’ve been burned by big contracts for respected sluggers in the past (see Belle, Albert). So maybe our offer isn’t the richest. But when you’re making $150 million, does an extra couple million really make a huge difference? When you have the opportunity to live near your family and be the face of your hometown team, perhaps not.

Let me tell you about my experience with baseball. My earliest memories are linked to Henry, my divorced grandmother’s late “friend,” who would take me and my sister Kayla to games. Back then, in the early 90’s, the Orioles were mediocre and Henry had to bribe us with ice cream in upside down batting helmets to get us to agree to go. Nevertheless, he loved going, and he loved the idea of dragging us with him. “How ‘bout a baseball game?” he’d inevitably ask, every time he’d visit.

Awhile after Henry passed away, several things happened to make an O’s fan out of this ice cream-eating kid. One summer, my dad instituted a policy of mandatory exercise for us. At least 15 minutes of riding bikes everyday, and 10 of tossing around a baseball. Initially we viewed this as a chore – an obstacle to playing with action figures in the air conditioning. But gradually we began to enjoy it more, and started batting in the backyard, and playing games like hot box. We started attending more Orioles games as a family, always running late and missing the first inning and a half, always parking for free at one of my dad’s clients’ offices and walking the rest of the way to Camden Yards. My sister and I discovered the joy of listening to Fred Manfra and Jim Hunter calling the games on WTOP. And in 1996, a few weeks after watching the Orioles defeat the Tigers as my birthday party, I heard from Fred and Jim that they’d made the playoffs.

We went to lots of games over the next several years, including a Divisional Series game against the Mariners. Kayla and I paid $30 of our parents’ money for an autographed photo of B.J. Surhoff at her elementary school’s silent auction (slyly waiting until just before the auction ended to outbid our competition, a pair of stout brothers whose names I forget). When we couldn’t attend the games in person, we’d listen to them on the radio or watch them on TV (ready to play, on HTS). We would mock Michael Reghi (see You LATER!) and save newspaper clippings (New York, 0-3 to start the ’98 season). Baseball, specifically the Orioles, had become a huge part of my life.

Over time, the O’s kept losing and, like many fans, we stopped going to as many games. But even after eleven years of mediocrity-bordering-on-pathetic-terribleness, my love for the team has not dampened. I still hate Jeffrey Maier and idolize Cal Ripken Jr. Spring training always breeds eternal optimism, and each free agent signing or trade sparks a little excitement within me (except, I’ll admit, dealing Erik Bedard. I can remember discussing his potential with my friend Matt in high school math class following one of his first major league games. It makes me sad that he reached it, and then we let him go).

I am confident that many people feel the same way. That a consistently competitive team would awaken the latent Orioles fan in many us. And that Camden Yards is just a few wins away from being sold out. There’s something magical about this blind hope. It’s part of what makes being a sports fan so unique and enduring.

Does part of you feel this way too, Mr. Teixeira? Please come home. Young Marylanders, like we both once were, could use a new star to root for.

Sincerely,
Jason

Don't give up, don't ever give up

Watching the ACC/Big Ten challenge on TV last night, I noticed that ESPN has designated this Jimmy V. week, after the late Jim Valvano. The former N.C. State basketball coach delivered one of the greatest, most moving speeches that I've ever heard at the 1993 ESPY awards, about a month before he died from cancer. I saw a few minutes too late that they had broadcast the speech at 7 o'clock yesterday. So during halftime of the Wake - Indiana game I watched it online on my roommate's Wii. My favorite part is when Valvano names the three things you should do everyday to get the most out of life: laugh, think, and cry.

Absolutely amazing speech. Written words don't do it justice, so just watch it on youtube instead. You can support cancer research through Jimmy V's memorial foundation here.

Hail alma mater

This weekend marks homecoming at Maryland. Since I still live in the area and have season tickets to the football games, homecoming is not particularly novel in any way for me. But the atmosphere will be energetic, and hopefully I'll get to spend time with some friends who I haven't seen in awhile.

I volunteer for a group called the Young Alumni Committee. It tries to emphasize the importance of recent grads to the success of the Alumni Association, and works to build stronger connections between these young alums and the university. Tonight we have an event that I planned- the Young Alumni Homecoming Kickoff. I'm excited to see how it goes - and a little nervous. I hope that it works out well. Not just because I planned it, but because I have a vested interest in bettering UM.

Creating a strong bond with recent graduates will hopefully lead to a lasting relationship between these alums and the university as they get older. This is one of those big picture things that will take time to develop. I'm impatient to see the results, and to relish the subsequent sense of accomplishment. For now, though, I'll be happy with decent attendance, people having fun, and not screwing up my introductory remarks. The open bar should help with all of the above.