Charleston Invades the West Coast: Debrief from San Diego
The first time I met Bill Murray was late on a weeknight in downtown Charleston. It’s sort of a rite of passage to meet the patron saint of the Holy City before you walk across the Cistern on graduation day. You would expect to run into him at a sporting event or in some quiet pocket of the peninsula, but in true legendary Murray fashion, he crashed a dive bar of bracelet-wearing college students. He chitchatted over PBR’s with us for about an hour, shuffled out the front entrance and jogged into the night. Gone but not forgotten.
I recount that story not just because Mr. Murray gave the Cougs their 15 minutes of fame before the NCAA Tournament, but because the last two weeks have sort of felt like that strange and memorable experience that ended too soon. Of course you wonder what could’ve been if you had shared your theories about the Wes Anderson connected universe. But you still wake up the next morning giggling with your buddies about the ridiculousness of last night.
San Diego felt like one big night out on King Street. Hundreds of alumni made the trek, many from the East Coast, and the mood was akin to Jim Valvano at the end of the 1983 championship game. What is happening?! We’re actually in the bracket?! Someone hug me! The Cougars are a 13 seed? Sweet Sixteen here we come! I spent how much on this trip?!
Underneath the elation and excitement was also a feeling of relief. I heard from multiple fans about the anxiety of going wire to wire as conference favorites (first world problem, I know). It was just so much easier to be invested in an underdog team that overachieved for two years.This year’s CofC team was anointed unanimous frontrunners as soon as the the Seahawks dissolved, and the next 11 months were a roller coaster of joy and hair-pulling.
A meetup before the game provided an opportunity for alums of each generation to relive their college years. In fact, if you squinted your eyes enough it was almost like a pregame at Burns Alley — beers flowing, the faint scent of saltwater in the air, lots of maroon sweatshirts.
It’s at this time that I started to notice Auburn was starting to sound so overrated that they were actually becoming underrated (to borrow a Bill Simmons colloquialism). I’ll be honest, I loved the Auburn draw when it was announced. Bruce Pearl lost two of three against Charleston while he was at Tennessee, the Tigers were backpedaling into the Tournament, and they didn’t have the overwhelming size or speed of a more dangerous 3/4 seed like Arizona or Michigan State. Cougar fans definitely smelled blood in this matchup, but this was still going to be an uphill battle for Charleston — as Roberts alluded to in a pregame pep talk.
From what I’ve heard and read, the scene at Viejas Arena did not show well on TV. That’s a shame, because the CofC section underneath the CBS cameras was pretty rollicking from start to finish. Few fans sat at any point, and the crowd dwarfed the Auburn equivalent across the court.
As for the game itself, you don’t need me to regurgitate what’s been said on the message boards and through the local recaps. The officiating was questionable at best essentially from the tip, and prevented both teams from ever finding a rhythm. Joe Chealey playing on one leg was heroic, but his absence forced players into roles they had not played all season. Riller and Brantley were awesome, and fans should feel confident about Pointer running the offense next year. The refs’ gaffe on the crunchtime free throws was laughable and frustrating, and Riller was obviosly fouled. Although, from my vantage point and the trajectory of the shot, it looked like Auburn got a piece of the ball so I understand the refs not bailing us out there.
In just a few hours, the dream of advancement was over, along with the careers of Chealey, Cam Johnson and Evan Bailey. Which brings me back to the over-too-soon nature of such experiences. Of course I was hoping for Charleston to pull the upset and stay alive. But Bill Murray jogging away down Market Street doesn’t spoil the night out.
When the buzzer sounded after this game, it was like the lights being turned on at a bar. The slightly-inebriated Charleston crowd was agitated and disappointed, but it was less of an aggressive outcry against closing time, and more of a collective groan followed by a light “One. More. Song.” chant.
There were so many times this season where it felt like another freak accident would derail the campaign and the same ol’ Cougars would exit into a disappointing offseason. From Brantley’s injury on opening night, to the 3–3 start in CAA play, to Nick and Joe hobbling into a double-digit deficit against Northeastern.
But like Coach Grant said all year, this team had some destiny in it and they surprised fans again and again throughout the year. The Cardiac Cougs turned into closers, the stars aligned for the perfect meeting of timing and opportunity, and the freshmen class of Grant’s difficult first season got to ride into the sunset as champions.
So don’t sweat the Charleston Cougars bowing out of the NCAA Tournament, for that is just a necessary endpoint to an unforgettable shared experience. Celebrate in the wake of the best CofC team in 20 years, because they already capped the season in perfect fashion.
