More old posts from 128 Hours...

Midnight Madness

First things first. For some reasons, at sporting events, I have a tendency to wind up in pictures. So take a look at this page. Find the picture to the right of Roy Hibbert (#55) putting up his hands while a women's basketball player is dancing (it's hard to explain, but we'll get to this) - it's on the right row, fifth from the top. Look to the upper left of the guy with the white "G" shirt - I'm the guy with the gray "Georgetown School of Foreign Service" shirt"). Well, at least, I think it's me.

Anyway. We got there around 10, thinking that the doors opened around 10:15. Doors would actually scheduled to open at 11, so we stood around for a while. A barbeque had started around 9:30, so there were some people milling around.

For the record, during my sophomore year, you needed a ticket. I thought I couldn't come, and as such was stuck. I showed up really early that night and was let in by an equipment manager. Good times.

Anyway. This one had about twenty people waiting, and it seemed to me that things had finally bottomed out. I thought that the original nadir was either Georgetown getting routed by Duke last year and we were outcheered at MCI or a game in the 2001-02 season when Georgetown beat a struggling Syracuse squad and the fans rushed the court. And fricking Maryland had a huge Midnight Madness. Hence the comment I made that we might outcheer Gallaudet at their version of this, but that that was about it.

The other major occurrence there was WPGC, a notable urban station, which had its bus parked outside and was blaring tunes. Incidentally, I liked this - picking a station that plays 50 Cent and LL Cool J sends a message. It's markedly better than picking WASH - God forbid that Glen Hollis comes on to announce the Hoyas to the pulsing beat of Lionel Richie's "Stuck on You".

Anyway, one of the ads that played was for a jeweler which emphasized getting a piece of jewelry for your special someone.

The only problem is that my special someone is Georgetown, and I want Georgetown to give me a national championship ring.

At around 10:45, they took pity on us and opened the doors (this was particularly good for the occasionally Hoyaette who showed up in club gear that consisted of miniskirts and skimpy tops). We came in, got our T-shirt and glow stick, and found a seat.

First sign that you're getting old - the music WPGC is blaring is really, really loud (I had a ringing in my ears at the end of the night). Second sign that you're getting old - you root pretty hard for the faculty in the Student-Faculty game (the entertainment my sophomore year had open tryouts that resulted in the tryoutees doing the Macarena). As an additional time-waster, they had a convoluted pizza box race where the rules seemed to change mid-game, a half-court shot competition, and a game of musical chairs (the ending quote was "let's see who has the most booty on the chair!").

Also there for entertainment were the breakdance team and the urban dance team (see here for my review of a Georgetown competition that involved both). The breakdance team was remarkably impressive on an individual level, particularly one guy who looked like he was made of Silly Putty. The urban dance team was impressive on a combined level, with significant synchronization.

Then it was time to do the team introductions. The women came first (I wonder if it's the same at Tennessee) and, in keeping with the WPGC theme, most did little dance steps.

This just in - the new Georgetown slogan for this year is "I've got rhythym, I've got music, I want a Big East Championship, who could ask for anything more?"

They also threw shirts and little keepsake balls into the crowd - I caught a ball, but passed it to a girl in the row in front of me, on the theory that I was quasi-sketchy already by coming here and that students should have the fun. They also introduced the new women's head coach, who has an impressive resume but has a tendency to sound like she just inhaled a lot of helium.

Then came the men's team. I was frightened when the last name - the name that's supposed to get the most cheers and applause - was Brandon Bowman.

Yes, I know you've never heard of him. That's the general problem. It's sort of like introducing the members of Raise Your Voice without Hilary Duff and trying to get a thrill out of the crowd by saying "He thrilled you in My Big Fat Greek Wedding, your favorite Alaskan and mine, here he is, John Corbett!".

Oh, I sort of forgot to mention earlier that the crowd had grown from the twenty stragglers to filling McDonough gymnasium with some overflow (admittedly, this isn't hard, but still). They also seemed excited, which was a good thing.

I also forgot to mention that it's been a while since I've been in McDonough, and they redid one of my favorite things about it. On one end of the gym are jerseys of various Hoyas in the NBA. Originally, there was cross immediately over an American flag, which was dead-center over the "New York 33" jersey. To me, that seemed a perfect summation of Georgetown - God, country, and Patrick Ewing. I always wanted to take a picture of that, but now I've lost my chance. Oh, well.

Anyway, the new coach spoke (I started a "J-T-3!" chant that got a little momentum) - he also called up a women's player and a new men's recruit to have a dance contest, which resulted in the gal putting down some pretty intricate moves and the guy starting to grind against her in a traditional club way. Even still, it was freakish and yet another reason why I'm markedly closer to death than the kids there.

After that came layup/dunk practice (I watched a little bit of the women out of pity - making layups doesn't win you as many oohs and ahs as a reverse jam) and then a three-point competition where one guy was paired up with one gal (I assumed that this was done to ensure that the women wouldn't thwack the men). In a good sign, both some of the women and the men hit numerous shots in a row (for Georgetown, this is major progress).

The came the end - students were implored to watch the women and the men at the MCI Center. JT3 then cut in and indicated that the women were at McDonough. Then it was time to head home.

I'm still not sure about this year - I do, however, think that JT3 will make the Hoyas dangerous in future years, and he's got the right attitude (he tried to get the "We Are/Georgetown" chant back - even urging people to see women's basketball). He wants pride in Georgetown back. The second-best shirt I saw that night was a dark blue one that had the letters GEORGEWTOWN, with George and Town in white and W in red. The best, however, was one that said "Some have forgotten. We will remind them. III. I bleed Hoya Blue."

It's frustrating to meet alumni who remember the glory days. It's even worse to meet students who don't even think of the basketball team as competitive. I think that major men's basketball is the major defining line between Georgetown and the Ivies - Georgetown endeavors to compete at the highest level in both academics and athletics (women's ice hockey doesn't count), and that having a mediocre team just kills morale and the traditional assumption that Georgetown is Goliath and will succeed at whatever its students and alumni try.

So we'll see. But, if the Hoyas do reassert their accustomed dominance, I can say that I was present at the rebirth.