The Best Dance I've Ever Attended

Just a quick programming note here - the blog is pretty much going to be ghost until mid-April. Work commitments have surfaced & both Anthony and I apologize to all our readers... yeah, all zero of you....

Anyway, the Michigan basketball season ended Saturday.... so there's this.


Sometimes expectations about someone or something set the tone for how they’re supposed to end up. I came into this season expecting nothing. But then UCLA happened. And Duke happened. And all of a sudden, the one night stand it was supposed to be turned into something more. I fell for it again. Just like senior year, with Daniel, B-School Hunter, Moose, LA, Air Georgia, the Nyce Man and <>. Except I fell for Big Game Zack Novak, who has a will to win like nobody I’ve ever seen don the Maize and Blue. And Stuey Buckets, who ill-advised 30 foot treys have a charm to them… because when one hits the bottom of the net like it did against UCLA, it’s a thing of beauty. And Peedi & Manny Fresh. The two most responsible for turning this around. Absolute warriors.

And then the just-started-dating-everything goes right phase ended and Big Ten play began. And like all relationships we had our good times (home against Illinois) and bad (at Columbus Junior College & Penn State). We got to know C.J., whose desire and defense makes up for his lack of game. We got to see glimpses of brilliance from Grady & LLP. And we saw the worst of everyone. But we were together and the ends were going to justify the means. Because we were sitting with a 4 point lead, with one minute to play, to set ourselves up for the ultimate reward. I tried not to get excited. Because I know the girl. I’ve been warned about girls like her. I’ve seen Michigan basketball disappoint me time and time again for the last 7 years… but this time was different. People can change I kept telling myself. And then disaster strikes.

A couple questionable whistles, a final possession in regulation reminiscent of all that was wrong with the last regime and an overtime that I’m still not sure occurred, happened. And I could tell you that I kept my composure. My cell phone is still in one piece. My right hand not broken from punching a brick wall. But that was on the outside. Inside I felt like the girl I was dating just woke one night, packed her shit and left. Not even a note. But for good measure, she must have kicked me in the stomach while I was sleeping, for that is the only reason to explain the immense pain felt there.

There’s a great expression… fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. What happens when it’s fool me seven times? Or eight?

You tell yourself that this is just a break. That this time next year everything will be alright. Because Darius Morris will be the difference. And Matt Vogrich will remind us of a young Mike Gansey. And Novak will instill that desire in his teammates this summer. And Buckets’ jumper will be as wet as the Pacific for the whole season. And Manny Fresh will come back with a renewed enthusiasm, a trust in his teammates and coaches and a “nobody is going to fucking stop me this year” attitude. And Peedi will continue being Peedi, except he’ll be more aggressive on the block. And LLP will become more than a practice legend.

But what if this is as good as it’s going to get for this program? Is it worth it?


That is what I wrote the Monday after the Iowa game. I meant to post it, but never got around to it.

At the time, I was inconsolable. I honestly felt like my heart was ripped out of my chest. I had fallen in love with this team. With this cast of characters. No, they didn’t have a pre-game human highlight reel or a mcdonald’s all-american, but they also didn’t have anyone who choked their girlfriends or failed afro-cuban drumming. They had a guy whose career had been left for dead after he struggled to get over the tragic shooting death of his brother. They had a guy that dreamed to be a Michigan Man in high school, but the day before he could commit, someone else stole his spot. The person who stole his spot plays for Illinois now, and his dance ended before LLP’s. They had 2 walk-on senior point guards that probably wouldn’t have led intramural teams to championships. They had 2 freshmen that nobody wanted. Literally. They had 0 combined offers from teams in the Big Ten. And then there was Manny. The kid who honored his commitment to the University of Michigan because he felt like Coach Beilein had a plan that wouldn’t fail. And his faith in his coach never wavered. Not even after that very same coach benched him in what seemed to be the 5 most crucial minutes of the season. Not even when everyone felt the coach cheated Manny. Not Manny. He not only respected the coach’s decision, he agreed with it. Then he turned on the “nobody is going to fucking stop me” switch and the Wolverines danced.

And they played a team that didn’t lose until January. But Manny wouldn’t be stopped. And they kept dancing. And they danced all through the night. No, Michigan didn't win the national championship, but the prom king & queen aren't the only ones that love prom.

I sit here reflecting on this season and I can you tell you that everything was worth it. The Iowa game. The Iowa Big Ten Tourney Game. The Savannah State & Indiana scares. The UCLA & Duke victories. Zack Gibson doing his best [insert confused & incapable big man] impression. Zack Gibson doing his best impression of Kevin Pittsnogle. Stuey Buckets against Oklahoma. Stuey Buckets against Clemson. The Manny Elbow against Purdue. Manny being Manny. Deshawn disappearing against OSU. Deshawn willing us to win against Purdue & Minnesota. I could go on forever. I can sit here now and tell you I love the way the season ebbed and flowed. It made that victory against Clemson that much sweeter.

The years of struggle forgotten by one brilliant year; because of one team, coached by one brilliant man. I sit here, two days after the dance ended for us and I’m upset. Not because the dance is over, but because I will never get to dance with this same exact team again.

Thank you CJ, David Merritt and Jevohn Shepherd. Thank you Manny, Deshawn, Stu, Zack, Zack, Laval, Kelvin, Anthony, Eric, Corey and Ben. But most of all, thank you Coach Beilein and your staff for forcing me to fall back in love with Michigan Basketball.

Go Blue!