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Quinnipiac Bobcats  American Eagles  

Game #8-105: Quinnipiac Bobcats at American Eagles November 22, 2011 7:30 pm Bender Arena BBState Stats/Recap

There are a number of ways the Quinnpiac-American game could have felt familiar to me. I'd spent two weeks on campus in the summer of 1997, at a camp for high schoolers interested in government. Jeff Jones, who coached UVa while I was in middle school in the Commonwealth, coaches the AU Eagles; his teams taught me how to watch a college game. But what eventually felt familiar and comforting to me were the ways that Bender Arena felt like home, even though I'd never set foot inside the building. But first I had to get to Tenleytown from Logan Circle.

Like any university, American tries to make it easy to find the campus and athletic facilities by publishing a sheet of easy-to-follow directions. Just like I always do, I made a total hash of it and missed the opening tip. I had been out in the rain all afternoon and evening for reasons not worth getting into here, so when I finally reached my seat, I was smelly, damp, and prepared to dislike everything familiar and mock it endlessly. When fellow Bally Club member Patrick Byrnett arrived, he was more than ready to do the same.

There is plenty to mock at a half-full gym if you're so inclined. The Eagles have a pep band. There are a dozen people in it, but they have a pep band. They have a student section with designated t-shirts. Because it was the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, there weren't ten people wearing those shirts, but they have them. Jeff Jones has a radio show. It wasn't clear from the announcements how one would listen to it, but he has one. Where there was low-hanging comedic fruit, we picked it.

But the damndest thing happened to us: a Division I basketball game took place, right there before our eyes. The Eagles fed it to Charles Hinkle whenever possible, and spindly senior finished with 31 points. Quinnipiac fouled the Eagles' Aussie forward Daniel Fisher almost gleefully whenever he was on the court, and he kept getting back up. These were scholarship athletes trying to win a game. They took charges. They tried to run fast breaks. They appeared to listen to their coaches during timeouts.

The familiar became real, and admirable, instead of contemptible. We found Kermit Washington's retired jersey. We found an NCAA championship banner for a 197-pound wrestler. We saw over 100 Quinnipiac fans, who were over 300 miles from campus. There was pride on display at every turn.

Later, as the small pep band celebrated the Eagles' win with their fight song, I was embarrassed that I had let the weather or my lack of familiarity with the teams take away the awe I feel when I visit a college campus. The students are there to better themselves. They and their parents are making sacrifices to pay tuition bills that get more outrageous yearly. Every basketball player at every one of these schools is the product of years of training, practicing, hoping, and dreaming. It's so easy to forget, even as avowed fans of mid-major basketball. They suit up to represent their schools, their hometowns, and their families. The lesson we must remember every time we take our seats is that every game always matters.

We'll be back next week, for the Howard game. We won't forget again.

ays do, I made a total hash of it and missed the opening tip. I had been out in the rain all afternoon and evening for reasons not worth getting into here, so when I finally reached my seat, I was smelly, damp, and prepared to dislike everything familiar and mock it endlessly. When fellow Bally Club member Patrick Byrnett arrived, he was more than ready to do the same.

There is plenty to mock at a half-full gym if you're so inclined. The Eagles have a pep band. There are a dozen people in it, but they have a pep band. They have a student section with designated t-shirts. Because it was the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, there weren't ten people wearing those shirts, but they have them. Jeff Jones has a radio show. It wasn't clear from the announcements how one would listen to it, but he has one. Where there was low-hanging comedic fruit, we picked it.

But the damndest thing happened to us: a Division I basketball game took place, right there before our eyes. The Eagles fed it to Charles Hinkle whenever possible, and spindly senior finished with 31 points. Quinnipiac fouled the Eagles' Aussie forward Daniel Fisher almost gleefully whenever he was on the court, and he kept getting back up. These were scholarship athletes trying to win a game. They took charges. They tried to run fast breaks. They appeared to listen to their coaches during timeouts.

The familiar became real, and admirable, instead of contemptible. We found Kermit Washington's retired jersey. We found an NCAA championship banner for a 197-pound wrestler. We saw over 100 Quinnipiac fans, who were over 300 miles from campus. There was pride on display at every turn.

Later, as the small pep band celebrated the Eagles' win with their fight song, I was embarrassed that I had let the weather or my lack of familiarity with the teams take away the awe I feel when I visit a college campus. The students are there to better themselves. They and their parents are making sacrifices to pay tuition bills that get more outrageous yearly. Every basketball player at every one of these schools is the product of years of training, practicing, hoping, and dreaming. It's so easy to forget, even as avowed fans of mid-major basketball. They suit up to represent their schools, their hometowns, and their families. The lesson we must remember every time we take our seats is that every game always matters.

We'll be back next week, for the Howard game. We won't forget again.

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