The other day I was channel surfing, looking
for an interesting basketball game, when I heard an announcer say, “Stay tuned
for an important Big East match-up, Marquette vs. Creighton.”
Wait. One. Minute. I was there when Dave
Gavitt created the greatest basketball conference in college hoops history, and
I am sorry, but Marquette vs. Creighton is not, and never will be, “an
important Big East match-up.”
For one thing, Wisconsin and Nebraska
are nowhere near the “east.” And while we’re on the subject of ruining
conferences for the sake of football programs, let me remind geography-impaired
folks that Syracuse, NY, and Pittsburgh, PA, are not exactly on the “Atlantic
Coast.” Just sayin’.
The Big East Conference was a stroke of
genius. Gavitt selected eight (soon to be nine) colleges located between Boston
and Washington, DC, each with a long basketball tradition and loyal fan base,
and pulled them together into one glorious super conference. Since Gavitt was
no dummy, it was not a coincidence these schools happened to be located in some
of the nation’s largest TV markets. The conference was founded in 1979, and
within six years it did the unthinkable: sent three out of the four teams to
the 1985 NCAA Final Four, where the greatest upset in history occurred,
Villanova’s shocking victory over the mighty Georgetown Hoyas.
Boy, those were the days. I admit, I
used to roll my eyes at people who wore Brooklyn Dodgers baseball caps or
Hartford Whaler jerseys. Stop living in the past, I’d think to myself. But now
I get it. Now I feel such nostalgia for those early years of the Big East
Conference.
It seems everyone involved back in those
days was a “colorful character.” Remember the players? Pearl Washington, John
Bagley, Sleepy Floyd, Ed Pinckney, Leo Routins, Corny Thompson, Patrick Ewing
and Chris Mullin.
And then there were the coaches, even
more colorful: Lou Carnesecca at St. John’s; Rick Pitino at Providence; Dr. Tom
Davis at Boston College; Rollie Massimino at Villanova; Jim “The Whiner”
Boeheim at Syracuse; and the Darth Vader of college basketball, overseeing the
Evil Empire at Georgetown, the great John Thompson Jr.
The Big East Conference provided my
greatest sports experience ever. Let me clarify: I mean the greatest sports
experience I witnessed live and in person. The greatest sports moment in all of
history, OF COURSE, was this: “Ground ball, stabbed by Foulke. He under-hands
to first. And the Red Sox are the world champions for the first time in 86
years! Can you believe it?!”
My wonderful Big East experience
happened in the Hartford Civic Center over a three-day period in March, 1982. In
those early years, the plan was to rotate the Big East Tournament to the
various cities, a plan that went out the window in 1983 after they realized
Madison Square Garden was THE place to be. But for one shining moment, a year
earlier, Hartford was the center of the B-ball universe. Seven games in three
days. Georgetown pounded Villanova in the final. Sleepy Floyd was Tourney MVP.
Ewing, Mullin, and Pinckney were freshmen, but already stars. It was awesome. I
didn’t even mind that UConn, coached by Gentleman Dom Perno, got thumped in the
first round.
The Big East Conference had a great
three-decade run. And in these parts, the “mountain top” moment occurred in
1999, when the scrappy Huskies upset arrogant Duke for the national
championship. The Conference was the perfect mix of talented players, charismatic
coaches, passionate fans, and shrewd TV executives. But those days are long gone.
I know it’s not healthy to dwell on the
past, but I miss those days. And for all you guys wearing Whaler jerseys, now I
get it.
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