Doris Kearns Goodwin is a life-long, long-suffering Red Sox fan who experienced many heart-wrenching losses over her years. I saw an interview where she described trying to tamper her son’s expectations late in Game 6 of the 1986 World Series, knowing that defeat could still be yanked from the grips of victory. Mookie Wilson. Bill Buckner. Game 7. loss And her wait continued, until 2004 when the Red Sox became baseball’s champions.
As an Iowa Hawkeye fan, I understand, many successes but many inexplicable losses.
For Spring Break 1987, my sister and I drove from Iowa City to North Carolina to visit our father. From his living room couch, I watched Iowa’s last Elite Eight game. At halftime, Iowa led by 16 points and I am considering driving to New Orleans for the Final Four. By game’s end, it’s back to Iowa City.
Iowa men’s basketball has mostly sucked since the inexplicable decision to not renewing Dr. Tom Davis‘ contract after the 1998-99 season: Steve Alford, a Bobby Knight disciple and suposed heir apparent, starts tenure with an upset of #1 UConn but no sustained success; Todd Lichliter‘s disastrous three seasons, leaving with the worst winning percentage of any Iowa coach; the frustrating ups-and-downs of Fran McCaffery with inexplicable tournament flops. And now Ben McCollum conjures two great performances and suddenly Iowa has the chance to reach the Final Four. What the fuck?!? To beat Florida in Florida on a last-second 3-pointer? This isn’t a dream, it’s an LSD trip.
Does the drug trip end Saturday against Illinois? A logical Hawkeye fan says most definitely. But I watched the Iowa women take down South Carolina in a Final Four semi-final. And there’s no explanation for this post-season. Maybe I suppress my doubts and just live the dream, for at least one more game!
