Tom Rags
Supporting Actor
- Joined
- Apr 4, 2001
- Messages
- 577
I wrote this for our local syracuse message board before yesterday's game, and I thought that some of you might get a kick out of it.
--Tom Rags
So there I was yesterday, a life long Syracuse resident, standing in Assembly Hall in Bloomington, Indiana.
I grew up bleeding orange and blue. My father graduated from the 'Cuse in '56 and '58. I'll never forget those beautiful autumn days walking to the football games amongst the glitz and glitter of the band playing in the quad, and hearing stories of my father's brushes with Jim Brown when they were in ROTC together. Not only was he the best football player in the country, but also the star of the lacrosse, track, and even more importantly, basketball teams. It was then that I began to realize that Syracuse was a place to be proud of. It had history; it had tradition; it was my home.
I was about 9 when SU went on their run in the tourney in 1987. Fresh off of my memories of football, I was as excited as anyone to watch the likes of Rony Seikly, Sherman Douglas, Howard Triche, DC, Greg Monroe. This was the first time in my life when I really had something in common with my six older brothers and sisters. 7 kids and two parents cheering for a common goal. I remember how we all piled into our 1985 Dodge Caravan to greet the team at the airport. I was psyched that my parents let me stay up so late. I guess they knew how amazing and rare this opportunity was. Could SU possibly win the title? This was the first year that I really cared...no, this was the first year that I UNDERSTOOD.
That reality became all too clear. Keith Smart hit a great shot. If the game were played today, the clock would automatically stop with 4 seconds and plenty of time to set up a play for the win. I remember my intense disbelief that the referee did not see Triche and Monroe in his face as they crossed their hands into a "T" and gasped for their last dying breaths of desperation. Indiana won; but it wasn't supposed to be this way. Not for a 9 year old with no other cares in the world. This was too much pain for a kid to take.
As I grew up, I learned to appreciate how precious that chance was. 1996 was an incredible run; but let's face it. We were lucky to even be in the Championship game. Practically every starter on that Kentucky team is still in the NBA. John Wallace is shining shoes in Turkey now. It just goes to show what a great run we really had; there hadn't been an SU team that I was more proud of.
So I sit here today, with my Bachelor's and Master's from Syracuse University. Unemployed. Unable to find the engineering job that I worked so hard for. I finally caught a break and got a call from a great company last week. The company is perfect for me in many ways professionally. It is located just outside of Bloomington, Indiana.
After my interview, I felt good. It went well. I am 90% certain that they will offer me a job.
Yesterday was when I was able to case the area before my early flight back to Syracuse this morning. I found myself gravitating toward the Indiana University campus; in some weird way, it felt right to be there. As I drove down route 46, I saw Assembly Hall looming next to the football stadium. I drove in, and managed to walk right into the athletic offices inside of the stadium. Inside, I passed walls upon walls of various oversized pictures of IU teams from the turn of the century to as recent as the '93-'94 team. After a few more blind turns, I was inside of the arena. My first instinct was one of "wow." This place holds 17,000 people...and you wouldn't believe how high people are in the upper decks. The dimensions of this place are crazy. The footprint of the building was one that could probably fit in one quarter of the carrier dome. My second instinct was appreciation: there's lots of history in this old building. It really is a throwback to the old school. I couldn't help but think that when Syracuse was playing in old Archbold gymnasium, Indiana was playing in this house. Wow. Then, I saw the banner:
Men's basketball
NCAA
1987
National Champions
Sitting there, in this cold empty building, I shivered. I was sweating. Suddenly, my appreciation was gone. This place was evil. It was seducing me like a deceptive Siren. This was the school that hung our banner. Had I not squinted, I'd swear that the 1987 had changed to the mark of the beast. The banner was red. It should have been blue with orange felt letters. It should hang under "NCAA 1986" and over "NCAA 1988." I should be glancing at it during TV timeouts just miles from my own house...not in this dark and evil place.
It is then and there, that I knew that this team of ours will win. I paid my respective loogee on the floor of the upper deck, and I walked out of the building with a smile on my face. This was the year. The evil shall be erased. Tell me you can't all feel it? My shiver has gone from that cold dark building. The shiver that remains is one of anxious ecstasy. I watched the game last night from my hotel room in Bloomington. Though nervous and heart pounding, there was never a doubt in my mind. This is our year; nobody can take that from us now: not Bobby Knight, not Keith Smart, not Tony Delk, not Rick Pitino, not Roy Williams. Especially not Roy Williams. Enough of "It's Roy's time." Goddamn it, it's Jimmy's time. It's Carmelo's time. Most importantly, it's Syracuse's time.
Enjoy this ride kids, its not often you get to expel old demons. The banner shall be ours. We are Syracuse. Amen.
--Tom Rags
So there I was yesterday, a life long Syracuse resident, standing in Assembly Hall in Bloomington, Indiana.
I grew up bleeding orange and blue. My father graduated from the 'Cuse in '56 and '58. I'll never forget those beautiful autumn days walking to the football games amongst the glitz and glitter of the band playing in the quad, and hearing stories of my father's brushes with Jim Brown when they were in ROTC together. Not only was he the best football player in the country, but also the star of the lacrosse, track, and even more importantly, basketball teams. It was then that I began to realize that Syracuse was a place to be proud of. It had history; it had tradition; it was my home.
I was about 9 when SU went on their run in the tourney in 1987. Fresh off of my memories of football, I was as excited as anyone to watch the likes of Rony Seikly, Sherman Douglas, Howard Triche, DC, Greg Monroe. This was the first time in my life when I really had something in common with my six older brothers and sisters. 7 kids and two parents cheering for a common goal. I remember how we all piled into our 1985 Dodge Caravan to greet the team at the airport. I was psyched that my parents let me stay up so late. I guess they knew how amazing and rare this opportunity was. Could SU possibly win the title? This was the first year that I really cared...no, this was the first year that I UNDERSTOOD.
That reality became all too clear. Keith Smart hit a great shot. If the game were played today, the clock would automatically stop with 4 seconds and plenty of time to set up a play for the win. I remember my intense disbelief that the referee did not see Triche and Monroe in his face as they crossed their hands into a "T" and gasped for their last dying breaths of desperation. Indiana won; but it wasn't supposed to be this way. Not for a 9 year old with no other cares in the world. This was too much pain for a kid to take.
As I grew up, I learned to appreciate how precious that chance was. 1996 was an incredible run; but let's face it. We were lucky to even be in the Championship game. Practically every starter on that Kentucky team is still in the NBA. John Wallace is shining shoes in Turkey now. It just goes to show what a great run we really had; there hadn't been an SU team that I was more proud of.
So I sit here today, with my Bachelor's and Master's from Syracuse University. Unemployed. Unable to find the engineering job that I worked so hard for. I finally caught a break and got a call from a great company last week. The company is perfect for me in many ways professionally. It is located just outside of Bloomington, Indiana.
After my interview, I felt good. It went well. I am 90% certain that they will offer me a job.
Yesterday was when I was able to case the area before my early flight back to Syracuse this morning. I found myself gravitating toward the Indiana University campus; in some weird way, it felt right to be there. As I drove down route 46, I saw Assembly Hall looming next to the football stadium. I drove in, and managed to walk right into the athletic offices inside of the stadium. Inside, I passed walls upon walls of various oversized pictures of IU teams from the turn of the century to as recent as the '93-'94 team. After a few more blind turns, I was inside of the arena. My first instinct was one of "wow." This place holds 17,000 people...and you wouldn't believe how high people are in the upper decks. The dimensions of this place are crazy. The footprint of the building was one that could probably fit in one quarter of the carrier dome. My second instinct was appreciation: there's lots of history in this old building. It really is a throwback to the old school. I couldn't help but think that when Syracuse was playing in old Archbold gymnasium, Indiana was playing in this house. Wow. Then, I saw the banner:
Men's basketball
NCAA
1987
National Champions
Sitting there, in this cold empty building, I shivered. I was sweating. Suddenly, my appreciation was gone. This place was evil. It was seducing me like a deceptive Siren. This was the school that hung our banner. Had I not squinted, I'd swear that the 1987 had changed to the mark of the beast. The banner was red. It should have been blue with orange felt letters. It should hang under "NCAA 1986" and over "NCAA 1988." I should be glancing at it during TV timeouts just miles from my own house...not in this dark and evil place.
It is then and there, that I knew that this team of ours will win. I paid my respective loogee on the floor of the upper deck, and I walked out of the building with a smile on my face. This was the year. The evil shall be erased. Tell me you can't all feel it? My shiver has gone from that cold dark building. The shiver that remains is one of anxious ecstasy. I watched the game last night from my hotel room in Bloomington. Though nervous and heart pounding, there was never a doubt in my mind. This is our year; nobody can take that from us now: not Bobby Knight, not Keith Smart, not Tony Delk, not Rick Pitino, not Roy Williams. Especially not Roy Williams. Enough of "It's Roy's time." Goddamn it, it's Jimmy's time. It's Carmelo's time. Most importantly, it's Syracuse's time.
Enjoy this ride kids, its not often you get to expel old demons. The banner shall be ours. We are Syracuse. Amen.
They had a tough loss earlier in the year to Virginia, but they will be back. Their stars have really benn underperforming thus far. Hopefully they can repeat!
