Please Don’t tell my son…

1980.

High school gym…

Fundamentals.

I blow the whistle.

“Hey, Bobby, if you don’t box out, the Middletown kid gets the ball!  Gimmee 5 laps.”

“Roger! The baseline? Really?  Laps, dude.”

Giving 5 slow, white basketball players who can’t jump, a CHANCE against urban schools meant mastering the fundamentals. Had no choice….

Most of the teams we played against did not look like us.

Move ahead 35 years.

Last night. NCAA final four.

Watching Wisconsin play Kentucky.

Kentucky undefeated, legendary, far superior. Incredibly athletic at every position.

Wisconsin, white men playing at the highest level of a black man’s game.

But they took my breath away with the execution of fundamentals.

And the impossible happened.

Wisconsin beat Kentucky!

Which leads to the final game.

Wisconsin versus Duke.

And as you know by now, I love Wisconsin.

But there is one problem.  My son went to Duke. And he is nuts for the Dukies! And as for fundamentals, Duke also is wonderfully coached in them.

So I will root for Wisconsin, but quietly so. And I will be happy for a win from either side.

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