The Ceiling Is the Roof

Carolina played terribly. Gonzaga also wasn’t good. And the refereeing nearly suffocated the life out of the second half, making everyone miserable.

But I enjoyed it.

Somehow my alma mater, the University of North Carolina Tar Heels, managed to play two of their worst games all season on Saturday and Monday and still won the men’s basketball national championship. Saturday’s game was particularly nonsensical, with the Heels missing four consecutive free throws at the end yet still managing to secure a one-point win over Oregon. Last night’s final versus Gonzaga was similarly nuts throughout, with only a lucky break or three during the last couple of minutes swinging things UNC’s way in the end.

That post title, of course, comes from Michael Jordan’s funny, tripped-up-and-tangled sign off to a halftime speech he gave at the last regular season UNC-Duke game this year in which he was referring to the football team’s prospects.

“I wish you guys nothing but the best,” said Jordan. “The ceiling is the roof. Let’s make it happen.”

By the next game UNC students and fans were wearing t-shirts acknowledging the phrase. And as the NCAA run continued, so, too, did the “meme” created by the absurdity. And frankly, given how absurdly some of the games went (including last night’s), it felt appropriate. A goof that turned out all right.

Having grown up on Dean Smith’s disciplined teams that always seemed to be thinking a couple of steps ahead at any given moment, these last few seasons of UNC basketball have provided quite a contrast. This year in particular, the games have been especially chaotic thanks to a style that mostly shuns set offenses in favor of fast breaks and first-opportunity shots.

The ability to rebound (they led the nation in that stat) made up for a lot of deficits for UNC this year, enabling them to win despite poor shooting and/or game management. Still, for most of the season -- and particularly the last few games of the NCAA tournament -- I couldn’t help thinking of the poker-related term “high variance” whenever watching them play.

It was like watching a nonstop series of preflop all-ins, with UNC winning just enough of them to keep from going broke, then ultimately winning the last one to take down the tournament. Most were “coin flips,” although Carolina got it in bad plenty of times and won (and got it in good sometimes and lost).

Last night there were banked in three-pointers, crazy loose-ball scrambles resulting in momentum-swinging buckets, missed free throws galore, and oh-so-many bad shots. Both teams ended up having hit just over one of three attempts for the game, with Carolina an incredible 4-for-27 from three. Just brutal, with all that clanging of balls off rims and backboards introducing a ton of randomness into the outcome.

So, too, did the refs, who were unbelievably whistle-happy, inconsistent, and just flat-out wrong on many occasions. There were 22 fouls called in the first 12 minutes of the second half, not too far shy of one per possession. That upped the variance even more.

All that said, after the previous games I’d already resigned myself to pulling not so much for good, solid play from my team, but merely for us to get lucky at the end -- as happened against Arkansas, Kentucky, and Oregon this year, and as failed to happen for the Heels in the title game against Villanova a year ago.

I remember 1982 (with Jordan) and 1993 vividly, and while 2005 and 2009 were nice, they haven’t stuck with me the same way. I think 2017 will, though, if only because of how uncanny it felt watching games with such an incredibly high level of uncertainty for such extended periods.

Last night’s game wasn’t so much like ace-king versus two queens (over and over). It was more like jack-four versus ten-nine suited. Still a thrill for those invested, and damn I’m glad things fell the way they did.

Photo: Ytravel.

Not Being Results Oriented; or, What Can You Do?

What a heartbreaker. It probably took me a full hour after the game was over for the heart rate to return to normal, and to be honest it wasn’t until this morning I felt actual disappointment that UNC wasn’t able to pull it out last night.

Have to confess I expended a lot of negative energy during the NCAA title game frustrated at the refereeing. The Heels were likely the victim of a few more bad calls (or no calls) than was Villanova, although I felt as though the refs were bad all around. Was a classic example of “look-at-me” reffing with nickel-dimers frequently called up top and everything goes down low.

But as the second half wore on, I found myself just as frequently shaking my head at ’Nova hitting yet another contested shot. Sure, they hit plenty of open ones, too (including treys), but at least a half-dozen times I had that “what can you do?” feeling at the end of a well-defensed possession that had concluded with the Wildcats hitting one more tough jumper.

A drought on the offensive end late in the second half caused Carolina to dig that 10-point hole, and it didn’t surprise me at all to see the team’s leader, Marcus Paige, lead the way to help UNC climb out of it. The double-clutch three-pointer to tie with 4.7 seconds left was stunning, sure, but for those who’ve been watching the team all year -- and Paige for the last four -- it didn’t feel at the time like something too crazy to occur.

It was a not improbable event, you might say. The one that followed was not improbable, either.

When Kris Jenkins rose to shoot the game-winner, I actually blinked very slowly, kind of accepting before the fact that the shot -- unlike so many others, a clean, open look -- was likely to be a good one. It did hit the mark (doing so as time expired), and as happened with Paige’s shot, I was slow to react.

So was Villanova coach Jay Wright. Have already seen a number of outlets -- including non-poker ones -- refer to his “poker face” following the shot. It was a good one.

Wright watches the shot fall, and with zero expression at all turns to the right and begins walking to shake hands with Roy Williams. There might be a slight grimace there -- kind of a “what can you do?” look, now that I think about it -- then as he sees Williams walking towards him he holds his arms outward and looks like he’s about to shrug while assistants begin to hug him from behind.

Here's a Vine of Wright's response, via The Cauldron:

It very much resembled a poker player who was all in and hit a needed card to win, then immediately faced having to console the opponent whom he’d beaten. The shot could go in -- and as I said, it wasn’t improbable that it would -- and when it did, well, that was that. It was kind of an extreme mini-illustration of that oft-recommended advice not to be “results oriented,” or so it seemed.

Such a cool shot. And a cool response, too.

Like I say, I’m only now feeling disappointed, although that last note sounded by Wright -- so matter-of-fact, and sportsmanlike -- is somehow helping prevent the pain from feeling too intense. Sure, there are lots of “what if?” questions lingering, but the way the game ended really did feel like both teams played their hands pretty well. And the last card went ’Nova’s way.

Second Guessing and the Media

Gearing up here for this NCAA Final tonight between the North Carolina Tar Heels and Villanova Wildcats. I actually had Villanova making it this far in my bracket -- which is otherwise a dumpster fire -- although I didn’t think my Heels would be there, too.

I can say “my” Heels as an alum and lifelong fan. Perhaps I was too close this year to recognize UNC’s strengths -- namely a deeper roster than most as well as a big size advantage that here at the end of the season has routinely translated into a big edge on the boards. Of course, ‘Nova has shot lights out over the last three weeks, a trend that tends to make rebounding less important. I’m leaning toward thinking the Wildcats have a small edge as tip-off nears, but who knows?

Amid the lead-up came a diverting quote from UNC head coach Roy Williams, something that gave the sports talk shows something to focus on today. It came after the win versus Syracuse on Saturday night during the postgame presser, and it kind of reminded me of some of the poker-related jibber jabber from last week.

Williams actually started the press conference in a bit of an ornery mood, early on cutting off any questions about whether or not the 65-year-old coach plans to retire any time soon. (The answer is no.) Later, after the players took their questions, it was Williams’s turn, and the first question came from John McCann of the Durham-based newspaper The Herald Sun.

McCann began by saying “we love to second guess you, coach,” then asked kind of a pointed question that if you think about it more or less challenged the idea that the coach has has any idea at all about the decisions he makes.

Noting how Williams had “stuck to [his] guns” as far as line-up choices went this year, McCann asked “How much of that during the season was total confidence in your guys versus a coach hoping that his guys would get it together?”

“Well, John, take this the way it’s intended,” Williams began. “Not to be as critical, but I’m a hell of a lot smarter about basketball than you guys are. I mean, I’m serious. What do you do after basketball season’s over with? You cover baseball. What do you do after baseball’s over with? You cover football. I don’t take any breaks.”

From there Williams stepped back to add a more general observation about the media’s relationship to the sports they cover, in particular with regard to college hoops.

“This year more than ever I heard announcers and writers question things... more than I’ve ever heard. And one of the other guys said ‘you know, we’re not in the locker room, we’re not at practice every day....’ If you asked me if I’m as smart a sports fan as you, I’d say probably not, ’cause I don’t work on those other sports. But I do see our guys in the locker room every single day....”

From there Williams pointed out how the team has had 98 practices this year, and after polling the room he determined a couple of the reporters had each been to one of them. “I would never criticize somebody about something that they know a heck of a lot more about.... But it is, it’s journalism to a certain degree today.”

“So it wasn’t stubbornness,” he concluded, alluding back to the larger question about line-up decisions. “It was intelligence.”

As a UNC fan, I find myself questioning Williams’s coaching decisions plenty of times. A lot, even, and certainly a lot more than I questioned Dean Smith when he was on the Heels’ bench. But all fans do that, especially when it comes to the teams for which they root and therefore (likely) have a kind of inherent bias affecting their judgment. It’s part of what makes following sports fun to do.

I do like his point, though, about the sports media tending toward “hot takes” and angrily forwarded criticisms that more often than not aren’t based in well intentioned argument supported by good reasoning and supporting evidence, but rather just designed to “stir the pot” (and perhaps gets some extra clicks online).

I say Williams’s response got me thinking a little of some of the back-and-forthing from last week regarding the so-called “poker media” and its relationship to those they cover. That’s a discussion I couldn’t care less about, really, and not just because I consider myself a guy who writes about people who play cards (to again evoke Benjo DiMeo’s line) and not full-fledged “media.”

No, I don’t find the topic that meaningful because I instinctively adopt the position of humility being recommended by Williams, at least when it comes to reporting on poker players and what they do at the tables. One of the detours in last week’s convo had to do with the relative poker knowledge among those reporting on tourneys. I’d agree it’s a requisite. I’d also agree that possessing something less than the knowledge of those being reported about should automatically suppress the impulse to “second guess.”

Not only do I not second guess, I don’t guess anything at all. Doing so would be more akin to reporting on yourself than someone else.

Photo: “Roy Williams at a Press Conference for the University of North Carolina Tarheels” (adapted), Zeke Smith. CC BY-SA 2.0.

Feeling Competitive, Not Competing

Enjoying watching UNC play well and advance through the NCAA tournament. Partly because of general uncertainty and partly as an emotional hedge, I didn’t pick the Heels to go this far in my pool. (In fact, I can’t remember the last time I picked them to win it all.) But I am having fun watching them succeed nonetheless.

As happened to many, my bracket went up in flames way back in the round of 64 when my pick to win the sucker -- Michigan State -- dropped their first game against Middle Tennessee State. Meanwhile on the other side of the bracket I managed to pick two Final Four teams correctly (Villanova and Oklahoma), and thus by necessity have wallowed just a bit in “what if” scenarios as a result.

The pool I’m in has about 60 entries, and of that bunch just two folks picked three of four region winners correctly. Meanwhile getting two of them was above average, as only a little over a third of the entries got that many. In other words, over half got none or one.

Of course, most of us who got two also had Michigan State getting through the Midwest (only one picked Syracuse to do so), and a lot of folks had Kansas topping the East and not UNC (I had Xavier). In truth I needn’t bother too much with wondering “what if” MSU hadn’t faltered as they did, as I would’ve probably still been stuck in the middle of the pack even if they had won a few games.

Having hit with ’Nova and the Sooners is a bit of a tease, though. Like hitting your flush on the river only after the board paired on the turn to give your opponent a full house.

It’s a little like a game in which your team gets down big early, remains behind by 15 with eight minutes to go, then stages a pseudo-comeback to get within a couple of possessions before time runs out. (In contrast to what Syracuse pulled off yesterday when they managed to wipe out a 15-point deficit in less than five minutes against Virginia to grab the lead for the endgame.)

My (virtual) first-round knockout from the pool this year makes me long for the pool I used to enter back in the day, the one for which you picked round-by-round and thus were never out of it -- at least not until the end of the second weekend. (I discuss the scoring and rules for that pool in this post from a few years back.)

Then again, looking at the four remaining teams (UNC, Syracuse, Villanova, and Oklahoma, it’d be hard to say who I’d pick on Saturday and then in the final. One less thing to think about this week!

Photo: “NCAA Basketball,” Phil Roeder. CC BY 2.0.

Staying Put for the Super Bowl

I remember some twenty-plus years ago living in Chapel Hill and going to graduate school. After getting an undergraduate degree there I continued on for the M.A., then would make a change for the doctorate afterwards (going to Indiana). Several years later I would return to my home state of North Carolina to live and teach.

In other words I’d been a lifelong Tarheel fan by the time the ’93-’94 season came around. The team’s run to a championship that year remains vivid in my memory, something I wrote a little about over on Ocelot Sports a couple of years ago and also chatted with Dr. Pauly about on a podcast we did for the 20th anniversary of the final game between UNC and Michigan.

One part of that memory that stands out was the way my friends not only found it necessary to watch all of the tournament games at the same place (one friend’s apartment), but for all of us to sit in the same seats as well as the Heels kept winning each game.

I recall more and more people joining us as they proceeded through the tournament, with about 20 crammed in the small living room for the final. But the core group all kept our same seats so as not to disturb the spell of Carolina’s streak. As my buddy the host explained, “You can’t prove it doesn’t have an effect.”

At the time I vaguely thought about the logic class I’d taken as an undergrad and phrases like “proving a negative” and “proof of impossibility” and “correlation does not imply causation.” I played cards occasionally then, but this was before I’d get heavily into poker and the study of the game, and so I don’t think I knew about the “gambler’s fallacy” then, or I’d have probably thought of that, too.

My buddy Bob (a.k.a. the “Poker Grump”) who regularly writes strategy articles for PokerNews has written smartly about the latter. In “What is the ‘Gambler’s Fallacy’ and How Does It Apply to Poker?” he explains how it works, starting with the example of a roulette player allowing the phenomenon of a ball landing on red nine straight times influence him to think that has something to do with what will happen on spin number ten.

Superstitions among sports fans aren’t quite the same thing, although they share a common lack of rationality. A poll conducted by Associated Press-Ipsos several years ago found that a little more than 20% of sports fans “say they do things in an attempt to bring good luck to their favorite team or avoid jinxing them.”

The Super Bowl is Sunday, and Vera and I have already been invited to a couple of viewing parties. As readers of the blog surely have picked up on by now, I have a rooting interest in the game, one that matches where I was with the Heels back in the spring of 1994. In this case my fandom has also been building for decades and through a long, exciting season’s worth of games, most of which have gone my team’s way.

I’ve watched all of those games this year from the couch here -- from the same side, actually, where I’m sitting and typing this post.

I’m thinking it might be nice just to stay at home on the farm on Sunday.

What’s the Line in This Game?

Watched a decent amount of football over the weekend, including enjoying seeing the Carolina Panthers get to 12-0 in a nail-biter versus the New Orleans Saints.

More than most games (I think), football includes many unpredictable elements that make it relatively improbable even for a dominating team to make it through a full season without a loss. And while the Panthers have a lot of weapons and are relatively strong all around, they aren’t a truly dominating team. They’ve had some fortunate bounces, though, along with playing well, and thus the streak continues.

Speaking of the luck of the game, the conclusion to the ACC Championship in Charlotte the day before ended in somewhat dismaying fashion for UNC fans when a blown referee’s call -- a “phantom” offsides on a successful onside kick -- ended the Heels’ hopes of completing a comeback versus top-ranked (and also still undefeated) Clemson.

Unlike pass interference or unnecessary roughness calls which can often be debatable, this one seemed a lot more cut-and-dry. None of the Heels’ players had broken the plane of the line of scrimmage when the ball was kicked (see above), but for some reason the referee immediately threw a flag for offsides, nullifying the play.

I heard one sports talk show host today say it was the kind of call that makes you wonder immediately -- and conspiratorially -- “What’s the line in this game?” (If I recall correctly, Clemson was close to a touchdown favorite.) The question had a kind of literal significance, too, when looking at that replay and seeing the uncrossed yard line being highlighted in yellow.

I believe refs have to discretion to pick up a flag if they determine a penalty to have been incorrectly called, but here the ref was adamant that he was correct (apparently even telling the UNC coach he could have called offsides on multiple players). But despite the seemingly unambiguous evidence in the replay, offsides is apparently a judgment call, too, and thus not reviewable. And so it stood.

To be honest, I wasn’t especially bothered by the call, thinking both how there remained a lot of uncertainty about what might have happened next (UNC was down eight with just over a minute to go) and recalling that crazy Miami-Duke finish from a little over a month ago that ended with a series of blunders by ACC refs ultimately resulting in a Hurricanes win.

Writing about that one, I talked about being a biased observer (a UNC alum and Duke hater), about the silliness of some clamoring for the result to be overturned or for Miami to forfeit after the fact, and also about the way sports has come to exemplify our increasingly litigious culture wherein there always seems another chance to throw the challenge flag or file an appeal.

Like I say, the blown call was dismaying, but like a flukey bounce simply part of the game. The Heels set up and executed the play well -- like playing a poker hand as effectively as possible -- but got unlucky, with the dropping of the flag like a dealer accidentally exposing a card to ruin the chance at winning a pot.

Which we might not have won, anyway.

Heart vs. Head: Top Seeds Collide

Gearing up to watch some more basketball this evening, further energized to do so because (1) my UNC Tar Heels are still in action, playing a Sweet Sixteen game tonight against the West region’s top seed, Wisconsin, and (2) I’m still alive (I think) to cash in the tourney pool.

Of course, if I’m going to be at all realistic regarding both of those points, I’d have to admit that the prospects for Carolina aren’t so sanguine (they are six-point dogs) and my prospects for getting into the money in the pool aren’t so bright, either. That’s because I have Dook losing this weekend, undefeated Kentucky getting knocked out in the semis, and Arizona winning the sucker.

That is to say, I have a chance not unlike the player with nothing but an inside straight draw with one card to come can still win versus an opponent’s two pair.

If I could redo my bracket I would have Kentucky beating Dook in the finals. They are the two strongest-seeming teams right now (by a lot), and in truth if I hadn’t been more governed by my heart than my head when filling it out originally, I’d have done it that way in the first place.

But I don’t want to see Kentucky run the table. And it goes without saying what my feelings are about the Blue Devils.

I used to enter a pool each year with a lot of fellow UNC grads, most of whom every single year would pick UNC to win it all and Dook to lose in the first round. It was a fun pool to play because of the huge edge many who played automatically gave the rest by picking according to what they wanted to see happen as opposed to what they thought might actually play out.

If you think about it, though, all NCAA pools are probably affected similarly -- if not so severely -- by participants’ being overly influenced when picking games by their desire to see a certain outcome in the actual tournament than by the desire to win the pool.

Incidentally, I picked the Heels to lose last round, but since I have Wisconsin winning tonight, it’ll be a win-win!

Says my heart, anyway. My head insists it’s a lose-lose.

Bracket Brooding

Was a weekend filled watching college basketball, as well as that I Hate Christian Laettner doc on ESPN last night which managed to provide some entertainment to this Tarheel despite the fact that it was impossible for the program to articulate anything I hadn’t thought or felt before.

And now with the NCAA bracket announced I’m finding myself already spending odd moments contemplating matchups and how I might fill the sucker out.

Am remembering a year ago when I was in Chile hastily filling out a sheet. Not sure having more time to look over matchups will help me too much, really -- when I won the pool a few years ago, I think I took all of 15 minutes to complete my bracket. But I like having a chance at least to fool myself into thinking I’m improving my chances.

I’ve not watched as much college basketball this year as in the past, my interest waning more and more each year because of a variety of factors. One is the “one-and-done” phenomenon that ensures I don’t even know the starting five for my own team (UNC-Chapel Hill) from year to year. Another is conference expansion and restructuring, with the ACC now bloated with 15 teams, nearly half of which weren’t in the league just over a decade ago.

The main reason, though, is the level of play, which for the most part has declined considerably over the last 10-15 years (it seems to me). Compared to the NBA -- which I much prefer to watch -- the game is so far removed, skill-wise, it has often become tedious to watch. I suppose the poker analogy would be a player having graduated to higher stakes being made to go back down a level or three, then finding it hard to take the game as seriously as before.

But the tourney does introduce some excitement, even if contrived.

The seeding of teams creates that automatic favorite-vs.-underdog dynamic that isn’t always even accurate but nonetheless adds an affecting layer of drama.

And, of course, while I don’t care for “one-and-done” among the players, the “one-and-done” format of the tournament adds curiosity with every game. Especially if you’ve tried to pick the winners.

Back to the bracket. Now how does Dook get a No. 1 seed after not winning the conference, losing in the semis of the conference tournament, and losing first-round games in the NCAA to No. 14 and No. 15 seeds within the last three years?

Remembering Dean

It was my senior year at UNC-Chapel Hill. I found myself sitting in the back of a first-semester Latin class, something I’m going to guess had been recommended to me by one of my English professors (my major). It was an elective for me, as I’d already had French to cover the foreign language requirement. It was the first day, and there were a lot of freshmen in there.

The grad student teaching the course went over the syllabus, part of which involved reiterating a point about the final exam with which I was familiar given that I’d heard it many times before. If I remember correctly, there was a provision that applied to all courses that stated if you had three finals within a two-day period, you could get one of the finals rescheduled. However (the teacher explained), you had to take care of rescheduling your exam at some point before the end of the semester by contacting the Dean.

At that one of the freshmen raised her hand.

“Dean Smith?” she asked uncertainly.

The class laughed. I just grinned, spending the next few moments thinking about how little I had known when I’d first arrived at Carolina. Did I know what an academic dean was my first week in school? I can’t say for sure. But I knew who Dean Smith was, all right.

My earliest memories of basketball go way back almost to the mid-70s, and Dean Smith is right there at the heart of most of them. I remember Virginia upsetting UNC in the ACC tournament finals in 1976, then UNC losing to Marquette in the national finals the next year when Walter Davis -- “Sweet D” -- had to play with a broken index finger. From there the memories become more vivid, highlighted by the ’82 championship team with Worthy, Perkins, and Jordan. By ’93 I’d be on the campus to celebrate that year’s championship, and of course followed Smith’s continued career thereafter very closely until his retirement in ’97.

I played basketball growing up. The sport was a very important part of my life, something I did practically every single day, usually for at least a couple of hours. Some of my best memories involve playing for teams coached by my father and my friends’ fathers. When I think of those teams, I feel extremely fortunate to have had such adults in my life providing me with opportunities to play and enjoy being a kid, but also guiding me to become a good person via lessons in sportsmanship and teamwork.

Later on when teaching full-time at a small college I was offered a chance to serve as the school’s Faculty Athletic Representative, kind of a catch-all position serving primarily as a liaison between the athletic department and the academic side. I eagerly accepted the offer, because I loved sports and because I believed strongly in their value. That is to say, I thought -- and still do think -- that sports serve an important purpose when it comes to education, even higher education.

It was a small school and perhaps it was easier to think that way about sports since there wasn’t the big money and other temptations that at large Division I schools help create ambiguities about sports’ influence. I served as FAR for many years, only giving it up after the school suddenly veered in a direction that I believed not only compromised the school’s athletic department, but the school’s academic purpose, too. It was the beginning of the end for me in that position, in fact, as I’d eventually leave altogether.

I’ve always thought of sports and other games (including poker) as being very important -- valuable in the lessons they can teach, in the pleasures they can provide, and in the ways they bring individuals together in meaningful ways that transcend those competitions. These are things I first learned from my coaches. They are also things I learned (and my coaches did, too) from Dean Smith’s example.

It was impossible to watch Smith’s teams play and listen to how he spoke of their games and not absorb the many lessons he was constantly imparting to the men who played them. They are too many to list, although the lesson of the importance of humility stands out for me most strongly as I think of his life and legacy. That also seems to be the lesson many others are focusing on as they celebrate his life in the wake of his passing, the eagerness with which they are championing him directly proportionate to his own desire not to have done so.

No, Dean Smith couldn’t have helped us reschedule our final exams. But he helped a lot of us in a lot of other ways, something for which this student remains grateful.

(For a little more reminiscing about UNC hoops and Smith, listen to the podcast Dr. Pauly and I made about the 1993 UNC-Michigan NCAA final.)