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I've had quite a few people ask about the last few days and the story behind it, which I've (when I've thought about it) hashtagged, #ChicagoHope. Here's a little background.
Most know I grew up a diehard Nebraska basketball fan from going to games with my Dad starting when I was 8. Like many of you I spent some freezing cold nights navigating the patch from the Ag Hall to the bob on snow and ice, and down those crazy stairs by the game & parks area.
During the 2014 season, my Dad and I got to go to a bunch of games again, including No-Sit Sunday. It was too late then, but we decided the next time (we expected the following year) Nebraska was in contention, we'd road trip w/my then 9-year old son to the Big Ten Tourney.
It didn't happen the following yr. Things fell apart w/that team. Dad also passed away unexpectedly in early 15 at age 64. The No-Sit Sunday game was one of final sports events we attended together. So much of my over-the-top Nebrasketball passion is wrapped up in memories of him
Fast forward to this winter. My now 14 yr old son has doubled in size and still talks about going to a conference tourney. It's in Chicago, Nebraska is ranked, we've saved up for a trip, and I pull the trigger. A couple of weeks later Copeland goes down. NU loses 7 games straight
I pretty much felt sorry for myself the entire season (you all saw that) because we had made these plans, because we had started a postgame show at work, because like so many of you, we were just so excited and it AGAIN didn't pan out. It sucked on so many levels.
We debated for a few weeks if we should still go or try and sell the tickets and cancel the room (I kind of wanted to) but my son insists we still go, excited about seeing games, excited about Chicago. So I agreed and we decided to go forward with the plans.
Then some weird stuff started happening. My son, Johnny (given name) has always cheered for athletes w/his somewhat unique name. Rarely does he get one on his favorite team. So from the time he met Johnny Trueblood at a Husker hoops camp during JT's Frosh year, my son was a fan.
Needless to say, given our, uh, Iowa roots, & Johnny Trueblood's role on the anniversary of No-Sit Sunday, it felt like a little poetic justice was done & all the sadness of last few weeks was somewhat exorcised that Sunday. So we made peace, and drove to Chicago over 2 days.
Then that Rutgers game happened. It looked bad, I was ready to check out and start thinking about tourist stuff, but then things turned. A small group of fans celebrated together. 'Johnny's' name was chanted. Tim Miles fell. We felt like celebrating, despite the low stakes.
We hadn't planned on going to games Fri, were going to sightsee, but we changed plans, despite believing this was the end. Had no idea what was to come was one of my fav sports memories I'll have. Shots kept falling, guys were playing out of their mind, we were hugging strangers.
If it ends today, I'll still remember this week as one of the favorite of my life, and I hope my son feels that way too. I think we'll talk about it for years. I wish more of you were here, it's so fun to be a small but mighty fan base. You'll hear us today.
And my own Nebrasketball fatalism is hard to tamp down, but man, it's also hard to imagine this crazy fairy tale scenario with a roster of 8 guys and a team left for dead ending this abruptly after so many ridiculous chapters. So, folks, let's get weird. #ChicagoHope
Sorry for the long thread, but I'm honestly waiting for my son to get up, showered and dressed so we can get going for the day. Teenagers are slow. And thanks for all the super overly kind comments wishing us happiness, it's been kind of overwhelming.
