Time to Boiler Up! Sportswriter style.
Yes, I've made another non-working appearance at a sporting event. And as Grumpy Cat would say, it did not suck.
It’s funny how easily we forget the root joys of things. For those of us who live in the sports world, especially the college side, it’s nothing but money, NIL, coaching salaries, injuries, recruiting gossip, who did what, who said what, the crime blotter, and all the assorted debris. So much information, a lot of it confusing and negative, all from the daily category 5 hurricane that is the sports world.
I rarely go to sporting events as a fan. It’s like going to work for me, and I have become quite used to the detachment of being at a game for a purpose. I am there to do my job, not cheer or get emotionally invested. I am not your shrieking fan, and hell no to paying 8 bucks for a water. For me to have a soccer game and a basketball game, both in the stands, in under a month - signs of impending doom.
I graced the hoops world with my presence because my brother, Paul, had some tickets for the Sweet 16 and Elite 8 men’s NCAA tourney games in Detroit. He is the very definition of emotionally invested, as he is a Purdue grad who bleeds in Boiler Up! He’s had his heart broken by Purdue basketball over the past decade, as the program has become known for having a never-ending supply of 7-footers, dumb losses when it matters most, and the eternal frustration of what-might-have-been.
I never take Purdue very seriously. No. 1 seed? Aww, how nice. Zach Edey is killing the Big Ten? Let’s see how he does in the tournament. Matt Painter whining about whatever, sure, cool. I was firmly Boiler agnostic.
The well of fear and doubt were real, as was the visceral stress for the Purdue peoples. You could feel the anxiety - how were they going to die this time? I went with Paul, plus our parents and some family friends, to live the real-time Purdue experiment.
Purdue finally lived up to its star billing, beating an undersized Gonzaga on Friday, and then a physical Tennessee on Sunday. The games were fun, and I had a smile while I sat in the stands. I am still quite sportswriter silent, as I cannot bring myself to get into cheering for anybody. I’m more into figuring out the defenses, tabulating scoring runs, and tracking the next TV timeout. The most you will get out of me is calling traveling (which now is never called), or flicking my wrist in tiny when I see a good three release go down. If the game is close, I think about the sports writers, slaving away on the sidelines, trying to get something intelligent down by the deadline. My programming runs deep, even if I didn’t need to use it this weekend.
Our area in Little Caesars Arena was filled with Purdue fans, for both games, and it was a powerful reminder of joy. I can’t get into what people are feeling while I am working. You learn to tune out - literally - all the noise, so you can work. I have felt screaming so loud that my ribs were vibrating, and my ears going deaf. But I still had to work. It’s much harder to ignore the vibes when it’s your brother screaming, hands on head, right next to you.
As the waning seconds ticked down Sunday, and it was obvious that even Purdue was not capable of blowing this, the noise went up five levels. My brother went crazy at the horn, jumping around, screaming, and high-fiving some Purdue fans in front of him. He then high-fived me, with about 40 percent more force than necessary. But it’s OK. He was beet red, tears in his eyes, and was saying how happy he was.
I was happy too, because I know how much this means for him and the other Purdue fans. It’s the team’s first trip to the Final Four since 1980, and basically, the first one of our lifetime. It was fun being around people losing their minds with joy, to the point where their voices were getting shredded. The win was a real thing, and Purdue was going to the Final Four. My brother’s dedication to saying Boiler Up! had finally paid off.
The purity of the rush was real. For a few minutes, all the things wrong with college sports was erased from my mind. This was the essence - winning was visceral. A group of people, collected by team affiliation, now shared this moment. It was loud, boisterous, silly, happy and all the good things. The Tennessee fans shared something too, consoling each other in the stands.
The sense of community was nice. We stayed after, watching Purdue cut down the nets and receive the Midwest Regional title trophy. I have never seen somebody cut down a net without a ladder, but Edey taught me something new. Ladders are optional when you stand 7-4.
I know it isn’t earthshaking to say life is good when your team wins. Most sportswriters really don’t get invested in who wins or loses. We just want the damned thing over on time (NO OVERTIME), and to do our jobs smoothly. We’re much more task-driven. Just the facts, ma’am.
But every now and again, it’s nice to drop the laptop and just be present. I’m not hoarse or exhausted today, like I am guessing is the state of the Purdue clan, but I still feel a little buzz. We love to be sports fans, because we belong to something.
Many times, we belong to misery, shared by the collective.
But sometimes, you are in the cool kids club and winning.
Boiler Up!
I was crying on the outside and balling (see what I did there?) on the inside. I didn’t want to worry our poor mother more than she already was.
I love this. Fun read. I have been on both sides of this as a fan. Went to NBA games with John, who was deeply invested in them, and just enjoyed the atmosphere but was never invested. And been the impassioned Spartan on many occasions. While I never sat courtside at an NBA/NCAA game writing on deadline, I do think of the sportswriters on the sidelines praying for no overtime.
Congrats to Paul, by the way. I know long-suffering. (NFL -- Washington fan. It's bad when the only thing you have to cheer is the ouster of an awful owner.) Glad to see the Big Ten champs in the Final Four. Rooting for them to take it all.