In the fall of 2004, I began attending Michigan State. The people I met in my first few days as a music student told me how painful the Basketbowl was to watch, while I just grinned. Kentucky was the team I blindly picked to win the NCAA Tournament every season (nobody could accuse me of being a fair-weather fan), so damned if I wasn't going to enjoy a big victory.
As the year progressed, I couldn't help but fully dive into the MSU sports culture. They had some very exciting talent, and I had rooted for them to beat Florida in the 2000 title game.
MSU and Kentucky were not scheduled to meet during the 2004-2005 season, which was good for me. Then the tournament seedings came out.
Uh-oh—the two teams were in the same region and would meet in the Elite Eight if they both advanced that far. To make matters worse, my roommate had moved out (been arrested) and took the TV with him, so I had to watch games in the lobby of my dorm, a high-traffic area.
Elite Eight weekend came, and both teams were still alive. You probably remember that weekend. Louisville (another team I had adopted, thanks to Rick Pitino) had come back from 19 down to beat West Virginia in overtime, and Arizona took Illinois to overtime as well before losing.
But the marquee match-up was Michigan State vs. Kentucky. I took my usual seat in the lobby, wearing my 1996 National Champs t-shirt (no, it didn't still fit. I was nine when my mom bought it). The looks I received from passers-by frightened me. They said, If Kentucky wins, you won't be able to safely set foot outside your room for a week.
It was the team I grew up with versus the school I was attending, and I couldn't turn my back on Kentucky. To this day, I maintain that Patrick Sparks was behind the line when he took the shot to send the game into its first OT, and he was probably fouled as well.
The final result was bittersweet. I was definitely happy that MSU was sending a team to the Final Four. But at the same time, I was really hoping that Tubby Smith would snare a title with his own players and finally get accepted by the fans.
Luckily for my soul, the two teams that I love haven't met since. I don't think I could handle it. I don't think my roommates would let me live.
Now I'm curious. I want to hear about the internal struggles of other sports fans. I know they're out there.
Maybe you're a kid from French Lick who ended up in East Lansing. Maybe you're a Syracuse fan who married a Kansas fan (my mother did this). Share your stories.
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