There and back again, a sports reporters tale

About a week ago, I had the privilege of covering the Creighton University Bluejays versus the South Dakota State University Jackrabbits in the first round of the Women’s National Invitation Tournament (WNIT). Writing about SDSU is something I am quite accustomed too. However, I was at the game to write about Creighton, not SDSU. That was quite odd. Covering a game involving SDSU not for The Collegian and not from an SDSU perspective would be strange anywhere, but in Brookings was especially peculiar.
Going back to the place where it all began as a professional reporter was nice. Walking into Frost Arena, seeing the surprise looks of people who were not expecting me and talking with staff and Collegian folk, as a professional, was a definite ego trip, which I probably didn’t need.
As fun as it was, it was also sort of uncomfortable. Maybe uncomfortable isn’t the right word. I’m not entirely sure what is. It was an awkward feeling. A feeling that I just didn’t quite belong. It was my home, my beginning, but it was different. It was akin to walking into my parents house for the first time after I moved to college. Or coming home after living in Europe for five months. I knew everything, everybody, yet everything had change. I changed.
I was not the same, bewildered sports editor that roamed the courtside a few years ago. I had left what had become a comfortable setting, a familiarity with the beat, an understanding of what was expected and what to do.
Instead, I was a young, burgeoning part-time sports reporter. I ventured to a new land, a new sports landscape, a higher level of expectations.
I returned (triumphantly) to Frost Arena unsure of what to expect, unsure of how I would be greeted, unsure of my place there.
After the initial “hellos” and “what are you doing heres,” I settled into my comfortable spot behind the scorer’s table, right next to Terry. Stu made his once a year trip to Frost to help Terry, and the Collegian boys were on the other side. The game started, and it was business as usual.
Not quite.
I was covering the other team. At halftime, as I was looking over my game notes, I realized that most of what I jotted down related to SDSU. Sure, SDSU had a halftime lead, but they did not dominate the first half. Almost everything that happened I looked at from a Jackrabbit perspective, not a Bluejays’. At least I realized that and was able to adjust after intermission. Of course, the Jays shooting 70 percent helped some too.
When the press conference was over and the story was typed, I felt good. I was sad the Jacks lost, but not too sad. Maybe it was because I was there covering the Jays. Maybe it was because I hadn’t seen a game all year. Or maybe it was because I was more concerned with typing a quality story than the actual outcome of the game. Whatever it was, when I left Brookings I felt at ease, with the game, the story and my experience.

NCAA Tournament

Well, it is NCAA tournament time. For the past few years, I have written a column at the Collegian about the tournament. I’m guessing that if I continue in the field of sports writing, most years I will write a column of some sorts about the Madness of March. This year will be no different. But this year I am not going to extol the wonders of tournament, nor give advice on picking brackets (I’ve been smoked too many years in a row in my family pool to do that). No, instead, I am going to complain. Something new for me.
I am so bored with all of the “bubble team” talk before the tournament and the few days after the tournament. Which team will get in? Who helped their chances? Who was robbed? Which team that didn’t make it deserves to be there the most?
News flash: It does not matter, no not one bit. Those teams that were “robbed” play no significant role in who wins the national title. The teams that had their “bubbled burst” are irrelevant to the overall scheme of the tournament.
The teams that were left out are insignificantly better or worse than the teams that made it.
Really. They are. The differences between the 60th best team in the nation and the 70th best team are minimal, and mostly subjective. Ask 10 different “experts” to rank the teams 60-70, and you will get 10 different orders. It does not matter.
Let me repeat, and this time, with emphasis. IT DOES NOT MATTER.
In the tournament, it comes down to matchups and getting on a roll. It is rare that one of the last few at-large teams make it to the final four. And if they do, it is because they had a favorable draw and caught fire. Not because they were that much better of a team then number 66 or 67.
The only people who should be upset are the players, coaches and fans from that school. Those last few teams are probably going to lose in the first round, maybe the second. They do not have a legitimate shot at winning. But for those kids, those fans, getting one game in the Big Dance can be a live-long memory. It can make the entire college career. For them, missing out by one or two teams can be devastating.
But for the casual fan … get over it. The “bubble teams” will not affect your bracket more than a few games in the early rounds. And they affect everybody equally. By complaining about it, all you do is show your ignorance about the tournament while trying to show off your knowledge about RPI rankings and strength of schedule. In the end, though, you just look republican.