I-L-L

I-N-I!!!

Welcome to my greatest weekend in recent memory – Illini Final Four 2005!!! Needless to say to you, my nine loyal readers, I am excited beyond the mere words that appear in the informative, hilarious and sometimes heartfelt blog. This is the second Final Four appearance for my beloved Illini in my relatively young life. The first came back in that glorious year of 1989, when I was an arrogant 15-year-old freshman shit who was pissed off at the world because all of the “popular” girls in our class were going out with upperclassmen. Not that I would have had any idea what to do with them had they been dating me – I figured those statutory rapist juniors and seniors had all the right moves, so who was I to argue? I just ended up having a girlfriend my age whom I ended up insulting with a vile slur, but that’s a story for another day.

Yes, we’re here to talk about the Illini! Back in ’89, I didn’t quite have the same emotional capital invested in the squad that I do now – yet they were my home team, the Chicago team, so I adopted them, hoped and prayed they would win, and ended up developing what would be come a deep-rooted hatred for the University of Michigan in the process (I plan to save for my theoretical children’s college educations, but if they choose Michigan, I will take the money and spend 4 months in Amsterdam with Michelle – but again, I digress). Even though I was not an alum, I still learned to bleed orange and blue, and sadly for me, my fanaticism has only grown by leaps and bounds over the years.

During the rest of my high school years, as hormones pulsated through my young, supple body, I continued my love and support for the Fighting Illini – both football and basketball. Of course, there wasn’t too much to get all hyped up about on the football front – Jeff “The Sheriff” George and the football team found a way to choke on their Rose Bowl chances in ’89 and ’90 against Michigan and Iowa respectively. At least he didn’t play on the team during my college years that had the #2 defense in the nation, yet somehow managed to finish the regular season 6-5 (or some similarly mediocre record). But we’re not here to talk about football – it’s hoops time. After that glorious Final Four appearance in Seattle, I witnessed a whole slew of hoops-related disappointments – the Kendall Gill-less Illini losing in the first round as a 5-seed in ’90; the subsequent years of postseason exile due to the Deon Thomas recruiting flap; bad losses to Georgetown, Tulsa and Tennessee-Chattanooga. Nary a peek at the Sweet Sixteen until 2001, we then endured the horror of losing to such hate-able schools as Arizona, Kansas, Notre Dame and Duke in consecutive seasons. A murderer’s row of detestable fans if I ever saw one.

Enough about the schools that caused us misery – we were being battered from within as well. Have you ever seen Andy Kauffman try and shoot through one of his many slumps? Did you ever attend a class with T.J. Wheeler and his five-year-old kid? Or see Rennie Clemmons wander around campus like he had no idea where classes were even being held? Ever been slapped around by Shelly Clark (I think a few women may have been)? Have you heard Dick Keane declare that he has “NBA-plus range” as he downed 14 Captain and Cokes the night before a big game? Or seen Brent Robish’s acne? Or watched Frank Williams sleepwalk through a season as he “prepared” for the NBA? Well, I have, and none of it was pretty.

All of those bad memories, however, were swept away in nine magical minutes of basketball last Saturday. As I banged my head against my brother’s coffee table and began planning my funeral, The Comeback to End All Comebacks began, and it didn’t stop until the Illini had fought their way to St. Louis. Yes, I realize that this comeback was made possible in part by a tremendous collapse by Arizona (man, it feels good to say that), but if Illinois doesn’t make one of those plays, the game is over – the point is they made them, they’re playing tomorrow, and I couldn’t be happier. This has been the most fun basketball team I’ve ever watched, and I can’t wait to have my heart nearly explode several more times this weekend. If I should die on Saturday, I want you, my nine loyal readers, to tell Michelle I loved her and the Illini - in that order, of course...

Oskee-Wow-Wow!!!! Go Illini!!!