This time of year always brings with it an abundance of memories and emotions, most of which revolve around watching the end of the college basketball season. I was about eleven when I first began to watch the NCAA men's basketball tournament with my dad. He was a huge basketball fan in general, but he loved watching college basketball probably more than any other sporting event. We watched our fair share of professional ballgames too, but my dad firmly believed that college games were more thrilling to watch because that's where one could witness the genuine emotion and effort that went into playing the game. College players lay it all on the line, not for fame or money or endorsements, but for the love of the game and the possible glory of winning a national championship. They have heart. And it’s so true. If you are watching the tournament this year, you know that you will see more emotion from Florida’s Joakim Noah in five minutes of play than you will see in an entire NBA game. That’s what my dad loved so much about college basketball. And that’s why watching March Madness was one of his all-time favorite activities.
From as far back as I can remember, my dad loved Duke basketball. He loved the coach, the players, the Cameron Crazies. I knew about Duke’s basketball fans before I knew what a three second violation was. He loved their enthusiasm, their team spirit, and their love of the game. So we watched and we cheered for Duke. And in whatever game Duke wasn’t playing in, my dad was usually rooting for the underdog, because who doesn’t love a really good tournament upset.
In March of 1999, about a week before the tournament began, my dad became very sick. Cancer. The prognosis wasn’t good. But my dad was very confident that we could beat it. So we began the process of fighting back. He was still in the hospital recovering from brain surgery the weekend of round one, and I remember him asking me to make sure I taped all the games because he would be watching them when he got home. And that’s exactly what he did. Since his brain was still recovering from surgery, he couldn’t follow a thirty- second conversation, but somehow he could follow a basketball game. I was on Spring Break the week he got out of the hospital, and all week long we watched those tapes of the tournament. I sat next to him as he rested on the couch and I would keep the bracket updated with the end of each game. It was an amazing tournament year. A year of upsets and buzzer beaters. That was the year Gonzaga blindsided everyone. They came in as a tenth-seed and made it all the way to face that year’s champion UConn in the elite eight. They only lost by five. Duke made the final game, but UConn came out on top by three. Dad had a very hard and frustrating time keeping his thoughts together at all during those first few months, but when he would lie down and turn on the games, you could almost see his mind relaxing. He was so familiar with the sport, and he enjoyed it so much, that it was almost like sending his brain to physical therapy. I think March Madness helped my dad get his mind back during those first few months of his illness.
As that year went on, my dad continued to fight the cancer. We spent a lot of time together as a family. We spent a lot of time encouraging one another and being encouraged. There were rounds of chemo, radiation, more surgery. For a while it seemed like we were winning the fight, but by the summer of 2000 my dad had lost his ability to stand and walk. It was obvious that the cancer was winning the physical battle. But his outlook remained confident. His determination very sound. My dad was able to be home for the 2000 tournament. Wisconsin and North Carolina both made the final four as eighth-seeds that year. All of the number one seeds except for Michigan State were out after the sweet sixteen. It was a great tournament chock full of the unexpected. It was a great year to cheer for the underdog. And so we did.
In August of that year, my dad passed away. His body finally gave out, but I will always remember how my dad was hopeful until the very end. For a long time I thought that was because he wasn’t facing reality. I thought his hope came from his denial of the severity of his illness. But I’m beginning to believe his hope came from the fact that he had a confident faith and a strong will. He was a fighter. He was not one to give up in a battle. His body may have succumbed to the cancer, but his heart never did give up hope. And because I can be a slow learner, I’m just now realizing how much strength that must have taken and what an amazing accomplishment it really was.
The next spring when the Madness started up again, I continued to watch. That year Duke won the national championship, and I couldn’t help but feel like it was some kind of special gift to me that they had won it all. My dad would have been so very pleased.
And that’s why I love March Madness. It reminds me of so many good moments spent with my dad. It reminds me of how much I too love the game of basketball. It reminds me that even when you’re not favored to win, you should always play every second like you believe you can pull off the upset. But most importantly, it reminds me of what it looks like to play with heart, to never give up hope, and to give everything you have until the very last second. That’s how my dad lived his life when the odds were stacked against him, and I will always want to be reminded of that.Labels: basketball, childhood stories, parents
