Purity of Sport in Small-Town America

You can take Michael Jordan and his selfish highlight-reel personal accomplishments. Take all your high-paid professional athletes, their agents, their refusal to sign autographs, and their many forays into the wrong side of the law. You can have them. You can even have the big-time college football and basketball players stopping in at Cincinnati, the University of North Carolina, or countless other institutions of "higher learning" for one or two years on their way to their own professional careers and big paychecks. I'll keep small-school Division One college basketball, played in small towns across America. I love the local media coverage, the players, the game atmosphere, the fans, and the David vs. Goliath stories they often inspire. I believe it is the purist form of sport left.

Small-school basketball is played at colleges all over the United States such as Siena College, a small college in Loudonville, NY which backs the Saints, appropriately named for their Franciscan roots and their St. Bernard mascot; Pepperdine University, a small school in Malibu, CA, who love their Waves on the court as much as the waves crashing along their beautiful beaches; Valparaiso University, a small school in Valparaiso, IN, which lives and dies for both their Crusaders and their annual Popcorn Festival in honor of the late Orville Redenbacher, a one-time resident; and many others. To be considered a part of this distinguished, if little known, fraternity of small schools, an institution of high education must have a Division One basketball team, less than 10,000 total students (a very soft requirement), and be located in a town of not many more residents than that. These schools get little national exposure but dominate their local communities' allegiances.

Local hometown sports writers and TV and radio personalities add their own personal spin on the team and its efforts. Unlike national sports news, these fans can often add a welcome hometown bias that harkens back to the old days of sports before the dawn of mass communication. These newsmen are often dedicated 100% to the team's news during the basketball season and off-season, covering the team both on-court and off. Information on the coach's new baby, the point guard's girlfriend, and other news only interesting to the local fans can be found throughout the year. News about possible recruits to join the "family" is also deemed newsworthy locally. This influx of local information spurs the constant banter on talk-radio and internet message boards about the past (favorite player, best game, etc.) and the future (Will the team be great this season? Who will be the star player?). Only in these small towns can teams like this get so much attention. It is the chance for the little man to shine, for the players to earn the local fans' admiration, to be the big fish in a small pond.

These players are true STUDENT-athletes, thankful for their free education and studying for future jobs on Wall St., in hospitals, or in classrooms, probably NOT professional sports arenas. The players make up for their lack of superior athletic ability with hard work, guts, determination, and teamwork, things that professionals rarely display; attributes to which the common American can relate. Their combined athletic skills and imperfections, their love of sport, and their academic goals lead them to play for these schools in front of die-hard fans at packed arenas for four years while they obtain their degrees. Their imperfect skills on the basketball court are overlooked by their local adoring fans who remember their hustle and spirit. The NBA offers players who rarely make mistakes - amazing, sometimes perfect plays blending into one another so that none stand out. Small college teams, however, occasionally perfect their team-oriented play in a show of true beauty and purity in sport; faithful fans who watch their games are treated to these stand-out moments, seeing how the common man can truly surpass their god-given abilities and opponents and create ultimate perfection, if only for one season, one game, one play, one shot, one moment. This purity is lost in the cacophony of spectacular individual plays in the professional leagues. I gladly watch countless Siena games with my season tickets for these fleeting glimpses of sport the way it was meant to be, at its beautiful roots.

The game atmosphere at a small-time college basketball game adds to the experience as well. Played in small and large arenas across the United States, these teams attract a loyal following of local fans and fellow students who truly get behind their team. An excitement and anticipation electrifies the arena. The smell of popcorn and hot dogs permeates the stale air, reminding fans of the early days of sports when even professionals played only for the love of the game and the need for competition. Fans fill these arenas to capacity, a chorus of discussions about previous year's players and teams, their new careers and lives, echoing within the dusty walls. Small-time gimmicks and giveaways are universally beloved - coupons dropped by a blimp advertising a local deli are watched as attentively as the game on the court, hoping for a chance to leap over their seat to grab the slowly dropping paper. When T-shirts with the team's logo are launched by human catapults into the crowd after every successful 3-pointer by the home team ("T's for 3's!!!"), an even more frenzied crowd dives among the leftover peanut shells and spilled sodas to grab the coveted prize. Interspersed with spirited cheers for the home team, these frivolous distractions that professional team fans would snub their noses at offer an added feeling of community in sport that is sorely missing elsewhere.

There is even a small feeling of sadness that last year's seniors have moved on, their four years of sacrifice, hard work, and entertainment having flown by too quickly. The poster given away to all fans at last year's Senior Night featuring a departing leader, a sharpshooter, and a tough role player is the only tangible reminder of their contributions to the team; the countless memories, however, will survive for years longer in the minds of all the fans who can recount games and moments from seasons ago. This sadness is mixed with the hope felt for the new freshmen joining the team this year; they will be loved for the next four years while students at the school and players on the team. This hope is brought out especially in the single moment when the new team rushes out onto the court, single file, in their fresh new uniforms and warm-up suits. The band plays energetic music, the fans stand and cheer in long-rehearsed and often repeated traditional verses. The players move quickly around the court, more excited than even the fans that their long off-season of hard work and preparation has finally led to a game, to competition. Every year, a clean slate is available for the team to write their history upon - what can be more pure in sports than this?

The goal of all teams - big or small - is to qualify for "March Madness," the NCAA men's college basketball tournament, each year. Most agree that the 64-team, single-elimination tournament is the greatest sporting event in existence. Some would argue that the Olympic Games or Soccer's World Cup are greater, but the politics and jingoism that pervade these events can leave a bad taste in one's mouth. Baseball's World Series and Football's Superbowl also have their fans, but exorbitant money, hype, and player ego-stroking taint these events. In the NCAA tournament, 64 teams from all across America play each other over a one-month period to determine the National Champion. The beauty and purity of this event, even with the huge number of marketing and sponsorship dollars pushed into it, is the fact that each team has an equal chance to win. On any given day, any team can beat any other team, no matter how famous and well-endowed one school's team is versus another; one loss and you are eliminated.

I argue that it is the small-town colleges, the Cinderella stories, the David versus Goliath match-ups - even the failed close-call attempts - that make this event truly special. Every year, one or two of these small-town teams bids to unseat some huge favorite, teams like the Duke University Blue Devils, the Syracuse Orangemen, and the University of Connecticut Huskies. These Cinderella underdogs are only sometimes successful, but always add flavor to this huge event. Watching some no-name player from a no-name town in Middle America reach his perfection one day in March, foiling one of the big school's attempts at winning the tournament is one of the greatest sights in sports. Knowing that this player will return to his anonymous world after the tournament to continue his studies and life with no fanfare makes it all the more special. For one game, one moment, he and his team are rooted for and discussed by not just his loyal, local fans, but all sports fans around the country. For just that one moment, the world can see that the "little guy" always has a chance, and that hard work and cooperation can overcome obstacles of any size.

For all these reasons - the love and backing of the teams by the local media and fans, the players' grit and love for the game, the teamwork, the old-school game atmosphere, and the role of these teams in arguably the greatest sporting event in the world - I believe small-town Division One college basketball is the purest, most beautiful form of sports remaining in this tainted, materialistic world. You will rarely find a Michael Jordan-like physical phenomenon on one of these teams. Instead, you'll find countless students who work together with all their hearts towards a common goal, hoping for just one moment when, as a team, they can achieve Jordan-like perfection.