The feisty and fundamentally solidLoyola Ramblers were never ranked.
The disrespected Ramblers would’ve missed the NCAA tournament had they not won the Missouri Valley Conference tournament.
The revelation that became the Ramblers nearly played for the national title.
From largely unknown to nearly unbeatable.
Sounds like a movie, and you could do worse than cast Armie Hammer as coach Porter Moser and Helen Mirren as Sister Jean.
But no. Wait. This was better. This was real life. The Ramblers reached the Final Four.
But no. Wait. This was worse. This was real life. The Ramblers ended their season in the Final Four.
Bravo and bitterness. Bravo for the courage to grab greatness. Bitterness in falling short of writing arguably the greatest story in college basketball history.
The gash of the second-half blitzkrieg executed by Michigan on Saturday likely still is bleeding out. Apply some pressure to the wound the way the third-seeded Wolverines applied pressure at Loyola’s end of the court and appreciate the gift of the way the 11th-seeded Ramblers ran into sports’ heart.
On some teams, star-driven teams, it’s obvious which player will take the last shot. On the Ramblers, it was not. On the Ramblers, it was the guy who had the ball, and everybody else was OK with that because everybody else had faith in their teammates.
See Donte Ingram against Miami in the first round for details.
Or Clayton Custer against Tennessee in the next game.
Or Marques Townes against Nevada in the Sweet Sixteen.
Against Kansas State in the Elite Eight, there was no need for a hero shot because Ben Richardson was a hero all game, strafing the Wildcats with three-pointers while scoring a career-high 23 points.
In the national semifinal against Michigan, Cinderella’s glass Nikes cracked against a bigger, better team.
It was going to take a better team to beat the kind of team ball Loyola played. No, not played – excelled at. It was all about team. What other programs yammer on about, Loyola lived.
They played a beautiful game. The kind of game people fell in love with. They moved the ball. They continued to move the ball. They moved the ball again. A good shot isn’t a great shot, and they selflessly insisted on finding the teammate who was open for the great shot.
That speaks to great coaching and smart players willing to buy in. That also speaks to zero ego on the roster. There was no “my turn’’ basketball here.
There was no “my turn’’ spotlight, either. Criticism surfaced regarding the coverage of Sister Jean, the 98-year-old nun and team chaplain. Focus on the players, some critics said. It’s not fair to the guys doing the sweating and winning, critics said. They were the ones who deserved it.
But, as expected, the players were fine with whatever coverage came their way and whatever coverage showered Sister Jean. Players seemed to get a kick out of the storyline, the residue of their respect for the person, her beliefs and the tenets of the program.
Such maturity. Such poise. Such a great story – nearly one of the greatest underdog tales every written.
And it’s a Chicago school, of all things. In a city that shows little passion for college sports, the Ramblers stoked the romance in a big way. Group hug, everybody.
This probably reads like one of those “participation trophy ‘’ pieces, but it shouldn’t. Reaching the Final Four is a big deal, especially for a school with little to brag about for three decades.
Again, it sounds like a script, and it still might turn into one. But for now it’s real life.
It’s why sports is the best reality show — check that, the only reality show. You never know whether it’ll be the best or the worst, but it’ll be life its own self, true and honest.
Bravo, Loyola, for a special season.
Loyola's NCAA tournament run ends with 69-57 loss to Michigan in Final Four »
Haugh: Loyola has no regrets as Michigan ends its remarkable run »
Bagikan Berita Ini
0 Response to "Bravo, Loyola: A story for the ages"
Post a Comment