Jacked up and our wheels in slush and orange crush

We just got back from the Illinois-Michigan State basketball game, a somewhat ugly 57-50 victory for the home team over the visiting Spartans. If nothing else, sports are a window into society, admittedly a cloudy window that frequently has cracks in the glass. Still, some random observations and photos.

First of all, I should note that attending the game in no way makes me a hypocrite in spite of my disdain for the team's racist mascot. Our tickets were given away at my wife's workplace, so we didn't even contribute to the team directly except to cover up a couple of empty seats. Our Illini t-shirts say "Illinois", not "Chief", the latter of which has to be perhaps the stupidest thing I've seen in a while to put on a shirt to support the team. Who puts the name of the mascot on a t-shirt?

In our seats in the upper level, we were surrounded by a bunch of white people, most of whom were in their 50's and 60's. I have no idea, frankly, who these people are. They aren't university professors, seem a bit too old to be students, and I didn't think a huge number of alumni really stay in town. My guess is that they are primarily the non-university population of Champaign (we have 100,000 people here, of whom no more then 10-20,000 work for the university, if that). They are scarily devoted to the team, picking apart the team's offensive failures, primarily the poor practice habits of our starting point guard, who did lead the team in points tonight on 6 of 8 shooting from the field for 17 points. They were extremely unhappy with the refs, who did seem to let every 50/50 call go the way of the visitors. More than anything else, though, the fans seemed to be there to kvetch about the team. The Illini led the entire game, by as many as 15 points early in the second half, yet we heard much more bitching than excitement. Admittedly, the game was ugly (more on this in a second), but c'mon gang, have some fun! This is entertainment, not a job.

My wife was getting driven nuts by a habit that Midwesterners seem to share: they refer to athletes by their first names exclusively (even though two different Illini are named "Brian"). She points out that our country-club-esque, extremely white neighbors in our row would almost certainly never talk to a random young 6'8" black man if they met him on the street, and certainly wouldn't address him on a first name basis, but do so exclusively from their vantage point 100 feet from the floor. It is a bit weird, really, being on a first name basis with a bunch of people that virtually anyone around us has ever met.

In the top of this shot, you see part of the Orange Crush, the Illini student fan section, who can also be viewed above my wife's left shoulder in the previous shot. These kids do really make it a crazy fun atmosphere in Assembly Hall, making noise constantly throughout a game, most of which time they spend jumping up and down while either needling the other team or cheering for the home team. To the left on the floor, we have the cheerleading team. I need not say anything about the cheerdudes, other than to point out that the current president was a cheerdude at Yale. The female cheerleaders are the kind of peppy obnoxious types who do that bouncy foot-switching thing when they walk down the street, and are always chipper. I hate those people. Thankfully, there is enough going on at a basketball game that they can generally be ignored. On the right hand side, in blue and white, is the Illini dance team, an entirely different set of cheerleaders. They do the more choreographed routines but skip the aerial maneuvers. Essentially, their routines would be extremely suggestive if performed at about 1/4 the speed, with lots of hip rocking and chest thrusting, but at their hyperkinetic speed they come off instead like someone tweaking out while trying to get rid of a wedgie.

You'll notice in this shot that exactly one player from each team is moving. This was kind of a theme for the night. Neither team has what you would want to call a dynamic offense. Michigan spent the first half turning the ball over on their way to 17 points in 20 minutes (16 turnovers vs. 21 shots, if I heard it correctly), missing a variety of midrange jumpshots because they could neither find an open 3 nor get the ball to the rim. The Illini played pretty average, but just by generating a shot on most possessions were able to run out to an 11 point lead. Staggeringly, Michigan State had the Illini in early foul trouble, so they would be shooting free throws after every Illini foul from the 7-minute mark on in the first half, yet never got the ball inside to induce fouls. Both teams basically spent most of their time wandering around the perimeter taking low percentage shots that they missed about 2/3 of the time.

In the second half, the Illini offense really started to sputter, except for their point guard, who would hold the ball forever, start to drive the lane like Allen Iverson, realize he wasn't The Answer, and pull up and drain a jumper from 15 feet. Let's just suggest he's not a huge fan of passing the ball, ever. Michigan State figured out that passing to the 6'10" guy standing three feet from the basket was a good idea long enough to close within 4 points, but then he fouled out and they resumed taking ridiculously long jumpers. If there were more than one or two fast break opportunities in the entire game, I must have blinked and missed them. Heck, there were no more than a handful of layups, something like 15 total assists by the two teams combined for the entire game, and not single recognizable screen-and-roll. Basically, this is the kind of victory that makes you worry about the likely success of your team in the conference tournament, much less the Big Dance in March. Still, it was fun, and you realize things at a game that you just don't get on TV, like the fact that a bucket-and-a-foul, because of the timing of the thing, is vastly more exciting in person than on TV, whereas a dunk just doesn't seem as exciting when viewed too far from above. I'd do it again in a heartbeat, though I have to say I prefer the downhome charm of the Illini club Ice hockey team. More on that soon, once I catch another game.