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When I was eight years old or thereabouts, I remember some basketball player for the University of Maryland called Bozo. Bozo’s real name was Jim O’Brien who hit a buzzer-beater the night before and his shot made the next day’s sports highlights. That was my introduction to Terps basketball. The Maryland Terrapins became my team.
Adding to the allure, upon arriving in College Park the lovable coach Lefty Driesell had proclaimed he would make this program “The UCLA of the East.” Everyone I grew up with climbed on board for the ride, and we’re still on this journey, and will be the rest of our lives.
It hasn’t been smooth. Dean Smith and Carolina smoked Lefty and his turtles all the time leaving us feeling inferior and forlorn. Along came Coach K and Duke and they crushed our souls repeatedly. The most deadly of all was a Duke comeback from 20 points down at the Final Four to shatter our fantasies that Juan Dixon-led turtles would cut down the nets on Monday night.
Finally.
Being a Terps fan has mostly been about feeling less than, a common man, the mainstream, the also-rans, not quite good or clutch enough. The best Maryland team ever lost by one point to NC State in the ACC title in 1974 or so and didn’t make March Madness because back then the second-best didn’t clinch a berth back then. And many still say Maryland was the second-best team in America that year.
Then there was the game I missed that my boyhood friends still regale me about when I see them at the beach or wherever when Lenny Bias popped 35 on Dean’s New Dome. Carolina couldn’t stop Lenny B. No state or country or universe could. It took cocaine to halt his life. We all remember where we were when we heard that news. The best college basketball player in America – dead.
To this day I know Terp friends who use Lenny’s name as their email handle and post photos of him on prominent places in their offices. “Death of a Dream” was the Sports Illustrated headline covering one of the most shocking sports tragedies of all time. When he died he broke all of our Maryland hearts and it symbolized all the emotional pain and strain of being a Terps basketball fan.
Then one day some 20 years ago Steve Blake stuck a late three against UConn to cement another Terp trek to the Final Four. I got off my chair and ran around my house yelling “Steve Blake, Steve Blake, Steve Blake.” My wife and kids were struck by my outburst. Had they endured the endlessly embarrassing losses to Carolina and Duke, and knew how far short our team fell below becoming anywhere close to the UCLA of the East, and knew what it meant when Lenny dropped dead, maybe they would have understood.
Amid my Stee Blake outburst, I called my friend who had tickets to all big events and scored two for the Final Four in Atlanta. The city had been renamed Garyland in homage to then-coach Gary Williams. Billboard ads honoring him all around Peachtree Street.
Juan Dixon took over that whole scene and the Terps finally bathed in their one shining moment. The last two people to exit the Georgia that night were my cousin and me. We didn’t want the night to end. Our Terps had finally won it all. A lifetime of waiting we had endured. All the pain and loss and wishing were erased.
Could history be repeating itself?
Maryland usually gets beat in close games – we expect it — but last night they reversed the storyline. Down one point to Colorado State with six seconds left, Derek Queen drove left and banked in a 15-foot jumper as time expired. Forevermore Terp fans will be talking about this quick-footed big man from Baltimore catapulting the Terps into the Sweet 16. Last night in College Park I imagined The Vous, which I’m sure still serves nothing but beer pitchers since I bobbed and weaved and upchucked there in high school, didn’t close. Terp fans are there now, I imagine, chugging pitchers of beer for breakfast.
Could we be headed for another clash with the detestable Dukies with a national title tantalizing all involved? Bring that on right now. Treat us all to that hot-tempered theatre between two universities that in every way imaginable stand for different things. Give us Duke.
Freshman phenom Cooper Flagg doesn’t know the venom spewed between Maryland and Duke over the decades on the basketball court. He’s too young. But we do. He’s so JJ Redick and Wojo and Laettner and Chris Collins—all guys Maryland fans can’t stand. Duke has and always will be the blue bloods with guys from prep schools costing $90,000 a semester. Maryland will always be the red blood, the real Americans from rough-and-tumble city high schools in Baltimore. The rich boys from Duke; the more relatable boys from Maryland. The Hatfields and McCoys.
Somehow, life goes around and comes around. Things happen and then happen again.
Picture Derek Queen dunking on Cooper Flagg to knock that boy out and catapult the Terps to glory one more time.
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Sammy Sportface, a sports blogger, galvanizes, inspires, and amuses The Baby Boomer Brotherhood. And you can learn about his vision and join this group's Facebook page here:
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