The Miami Redhawks men’s basketball team takes on Tennessee in the NCAA tourney this afternoon. A #11 seed vs. a #6 seed. Miami has already won – literally and figuratively. They won their “play-in” game Wednesday night in Dayton against SMU. I was there. It felt like a Miami home game with most of the crowd cheering for the school that’s a mere 46 miles from Dayton.
But they’ve also already won because they are, as my friend Joe says, “the best story in college basketball.” Undefeated in the regular season. 31-0. With a homegrown roster of mostly midwestern kids. And a coach (Travis Steele) seeking redemption after being fired by a school (Xavier) just down the road in Cincinnati.
Critics — and they are legion — sneered. “They haven’t played anybody.” “The MAC is a weak conference.”
But they beat everyone who was on their schedule.
Yes, they pay their players – all D1 schools do in the NIL era. But their “salary cap” (it feels weird typing that for college sports) is much smaller than the Floridas, the Dukes, the Tennessees. They’re not getting the blue chippers, they’re getting the blue collars. But they are a great team – offensively, defensively, shooting, passing — because their starters all played together at Miami last year. In the transfer portal era, that’s unheard of. And frankly, refreshing.
A lot of their regular season games were nail-biters. They won because they’d been there, done that. Muscle memory and belief in their teammates.
“Oh, we more than belong,” Steele said, with his entire team behind him. “We can advance deep into this tournament. Our group’s fully confident in that.”
Miami’s Cinderella season will end. Maybe this afternoon (although I think they can beat Tennessee – especially if it’s close in crunch time). But teams like the Redhawks are what make March Madness so much fun. The High Points are the high points. Yes, a “power conference” team will wind up hoisting the trophy. And then most of their roster will immediately seek a bigger payday. Good for them. But I miss the days when the players were less mercenary.
Miami University’s motto is “Love and Honor.”
Their basketball team embodies that. And we need more Miami U. in college sports.
The Indiana Hoosiers are national champs… in football!
(photo credit: Jamie Squire / Getty Images)
They were so bad for so long. Historically bad.
Before November, Indiana had the most losses in college football history. Across 125 seasons before Curt Cignetti was hired in December 2023, none of its 23 coaches left the program with a winning conference record. Only twice had the Hoosiers claimed at least a share of the Big Ten title, most recently a three-way tie in 1967. Generations of administrative dysfunction, low football revenue, poor recruiting and a department premium on basketball turned Indiana football into a wasteland.
They changed the coach. And the coach changed the culture. He came across as overly cocky in his introductory press conference:
But, as the saying goes, “it ain’t bragging if you can back it up.” And “Coach Cig” did just that.
(BTW, he admitted later that some of his braggadocio was just trying to wake up the fanbase, and the team. See this clip for more.)
Our youngest goes to IU, so he’s thrilled, and our whole family is fully on board the bandwagon.
“Let me tell ya: We won the national championship at Indiana University. It can be done.”
But to me, the best part of the Cinderella story is that it’s not really a Cinderella story. It’s about how a leader can change the culture of an organization. That takes a lot of hard work.
“You’re rebuilding the house, so to speak, and you start with the foundation and build it up,” Cignetti said. “It’s more process oriented. It’s standards, expectations, consistency, performance and accountability.”
And yes, it also requires a leader who is so strong in his beliefs that others are willing to follow, despite evidence to the contrary.
“It starts with belief. Sometimes the belief has to be a little irrational, right?” said guard Pat Coogan, the Rose Bowl MVP who transferred from Notre Dame to Indiana this season.
“I love to tell you, two years ago, I thought this was going to happen. I’d be lying,” linebacker Aiden Fisher said. “Coach Cig 100 percent believed it, and this is just unbelievable.”
Standards. Expectations. Consistency. Performance. Accountability. And belief. You may not win a national championship with those attributes. But you’ll win at life.
“I think we sent a message, first of all, to society that if you keep your nose to the grindstone and work hard and you’ve got the right people, anything’s possible,” Cignetti said.
It’s hard for an average high school student who lives in the state of Ohio to get into Ohio State University. Heck, it’s tough for an above-average kid to get in. But if you’re from California, or Texas, or Delaware, or any other state, and you can throw/catch/run with a pigskin, not only will they roll out the red scarlet carpet for you and offer you a full ride, but you’ll also get paid six, maybe even seven figures, every year, to be there. What a country!
It’s not just Ohio State. Every “power conference” school across the nation is shelling out big bucks for big ballers, in hoops as well as football, thanks to the NIL (name, image, and likeness) ruling and the transfer portal that’s busier than the Atlanta airport on Thanksgiving Eve.
If you can’t make ends meet as a teenage millionaire at one school, or you don’t like the new coach, or the cafeteria food, you can leave at the end of the school year season for greener pastures. Four (or five) schools in as many years is becoming commonplace. A degree? Who needs that? It’s all about grabbing that cash.
It’s not just the players… er, excuse me “student athletes” either. Lane Kiffin just left Ole Miss to become the head football coach at LSU. He owes Ole Miss $4 million for breaking his contract. That’s chump change – his new LSU deal pays him $13 million a year for seven years. (LSU fired their former coach, Brian Kelly, midway through his fourth season, sending him on his merry way with a parting gift of $53 million.) Kiffin’s $13 mill a year makes him only the second highest paid coach in that conference.
At Indiana, where our youngest goes to school, three sports coaches and one former coach make more than the Dean of the med school and the school president.
The full list is here. IU head football coach Curt Cignetti makes $6.5 million and typically looks like he’s having about as much fun as a guy who has been stuck in a dentist’s lobby for two hours while awaiting his root canal. Having to coddle 18-year-olds who can jilt you at the end of the year will do that to you.
Indiana and Ohio State play each other this Saturday in the Big 10 conference championship. The game means nothing. Both teams are a lock to make the 12-team tourney in the College Football Playoff. There’s a chance the national champ will wind up playing 16 games. For Ohio State and Indiana, these playoff games come at the end of a 12-game regular season that involved at least one road trip to a West Coast campus.
(The Big 10 has 18 schools… maybe they need to spend more on their math departments.)
How much studying do you think these student-athletes manage to squeeze into their busy spring practice/regular season/postseason schedule? They’re not getting paid for their grades – their YAC (yards after catch) matters a lot more than their GPA.
Yes, it’s capitalism. Get while the getting is good. But maybe it’s time to unmoor the sports teams from the universities. Because the players are pros, pure and simple. And perennial free agent pros at that. They have about as much in common with the regular students as Jeff Bezos has with the average Amazon shopper.
I hope they DO get while the getting is good – and save their NIL windfall. Because when their eligibility is up (or when they blow out their knee), so is the gravy train for 99% of them. If they can’t go pro (and statistically, they’re more likely to get hit by lightning), where can they get paid $1 million to be an offensive lineman? I don’t see too many of those roles listed on LinkedIn.
What Nevada head basketball coach Steve Alford said nearly a year ago still holds true. “The NCAA and college athletics should be about teaching life lessons. Period.”
This past weekend, my wife and my son Peter flew to Hilton Head, SC to run a half-marathon.
Meanwhile, I drove 278 miles to Nashville on Saturday to see The Beths in concert.
Oh, and then I drove another 88 miles to Lexington, KY on Sunday to see Kathleen Edwards in concert.
The thought of running around the block, much less 13.1 miles, doesn’t appeal to me at all. Yet I’m fine standing for two hours at a show. I don’t know about a “runner’s high” but I do know that hearing a great song live sends my spirits soaring.
Tina and Peter got a finisher’s medal after the race.
I got a setlist after Kathleen Edwards’ show.
My wife’s trying to run a race in every state. I think South Carolina was #26 or #27.
I don’t have a goal to see a concert in every state. But maybe I should.
They’re different kinds of miles, but they’re totally worth it if they bring you joy, and you’re making memories in the process.
Live music is my marathon. I’ll never stop running.
Our second oldest kid turned 24 on Derby Day. The next day he ran the Cincinnati Flying Pig half-marathon.
I went to three different spots along the route to cheer him on.
At Mile 3, when the runners come back into Ohio from Kentucky… didn’t see him.
At Mile 4, when the route takes them back into downtown… couldn’t spot him there either.
Finally, at Mile 8, I caught sight of him as he was rounding a turn past Eden Park. A quick shout-out from me, a brief smile and nod of acknowledgement from him, and then, in the blink of an eye, he was gone.
He’s 24. He’s off and running. All of our kids are. Our oldest will be moving out soon. Our daughter is renting an apartment in Clifton, near school, while she takes summer classes. Our youngest will be home from Indiana U. soon, but he’ll be off with his friends most of the summer.
Our son’s pace quickened in the second half of the race.
I know the feeling. Ferris Bueller taught me well.
It’s their race now. I’m just a spectator. Hoping to catch an occasional glimpse, a brief smile, a nod of acknowledgement.
Before they’re gone. Before I’m gone.
Seems like I was just a kid not so long ago
There were so many arrivals, so many hellos
Now my time behind is greater than my time ahead
Save up the minutes like flowers before all they’re dead and gone…
I played pickleball yesterday. As is the custom of the elders.
Some of my friends think I play too much.
(It IS a lie. I played this morning too!) But the reality is I only play on days ending with a “y.”
Yesterday afternoon, I played at a place called PickleBarn. Not to be confused with Pickle Lodge. (I’ve played there before too!) It’s called PickleBarn because:
a. All of the good names were taken
b. It’s two courts inside a pole barn structure.
(The two women who own Pickle Barn had originally intended to renovate the old house on the property and turn it into a rental. But after they bought it, they discovered the land was zoned commercial. Life handed them lemons, and they turned it into a business with lemon-colored plastic balls.)
PickleBarn has a Bluetooth speaker on site so you can connect your phone and listen to some music while you’re playing. One of the dudes I was playing with yesterday hooked up his phone and started playing a bunch of tunes that were… how can I say this diplomatically… boring as heck!
Sorry, but it’s tough to get hyped for some intense pickleball action (perhaps an oxymoron) when you’re listening to Sweet Baby James Taylor and John Denver and Jim Croce.
The songs on his playlist were the polar opposite of “Jock Jams.”
It got me to thinking about what songs I’d want on my own jock jams playlist. Those songs that, when I hear them, get me hyped.
This one is probably my favorite. It’s a bit of a leftfield choice, but that’s how I’m wired.
Creedence Clearwater Revival’s “Travelin’ Band” would be on there too. Some Ramones. Definitely Superchunk’s “Digging for Something.” “Makes No Sense at All” by Hüsker Dü. “Max, Jill Called” by The Bicycle Thief.. OK, these are all leftfield picks. So be it.
I think I should put all MY jock jams into a playlist and play it the next time I’m at PickleBarn… my opponents will be so busy wondering “what sort of weird music is this?” that they won’t be able to concentrate on the game.
Pickleball is my jam. With my jams going, it’ll be even more of a jam!
Kevin Sullivan on War… why? And now what?: “I read your post Damian and I like it very much. As we move from a Saturday morning headline of…” Mar 3, 09:22
Damian on Smartphones are making us dumb.: “Thanks for (not) reading the post, Kevin. And thanks for mentioning several other formats (article, essay, poem) that can train…” Feb 23, 19:55
Kevin on Smartphones are making us dumb.: “You know I didn’t read your post because I don’t need to. The lack of reading of all generations reveals…” Feb 23, 10:32
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