Farewell to a True Sooner

This may all sound weird coming from someone who has dedicated a large portion of his life to the pursuit of pursuing his favorite professional sports teams. Since I was a kid, I’ve been cheering for, complaining about, celebrating, laughing at, writing about, and yes, even shedding tears over, the success and failure (more of the latter) of the Washington Redskins, Cleveland Cavaliers, and Cincinnati Reds.

Growing up in Oklahoma, I’ve always taken the unpopular side of the pro sports vs. college sports debate among my friends and peers. The pro game is my game, it’s where my heart has always been.

Right now, I’m obsessed with Lebron James and the Cavs ending my personal streak of championship-less seasons (none since the Redskins won the Super Bowl in 1991). The day Lebron hoists that trophy (and it will happen) will be a glorious day. But tonight, that’s not what’s on my mind.

Tonight, what’s on my mind is the sight of seeing a kid trudge off a basketball court and drape a towel over his head to shield his tears from the public.

I’ve always been proud to be a Sooner. I was proud to go to the University of Oklahoma when I was there, and I was proud when I (finally) graduated in the spring of 2001. And I was extraordinarily sad the day I packed my car and left Norman for the “real world.” As I get older, my pride only grows stronger. For the majority of OU alumni, football season is the way they reconnect with the school and display pride and passion for their Alma Mater. But I’ve chosen to live vicariously through the men’s basketball team. I am a season ticket holder and do my best to never miss an away game on television. Of course, I enjoy the nights when the arena is packed, ESPN is in the house, and the excitement is through the roof. But I also enjoy those cold Tuesday nights in December when we play Mississippi Valley St. with the place half full and most fans haven’t even begun to think about basketball season yet. I think I like those nights because I know it will all be over soon enough and I should enjoy it while it lasts.

That’s what Taylor Griffin did. And that’s why he couldn’t hold back the tears when OU lost today. He knew it was over.

I’m not naïve enough to believe in the “purity” of big time college sports. It is as much of a business as the pro game, and the hypocrisy surrounding the “purity” argument is one reason I still prefer the pro game. However, kids like Taylor are what make college sports unique. Kids like Taylor make me proud to be a Sooner. And that’s why when he drapes a towel over his head, I can feel a little bit of a lump in my throat as well.

Taylor’s superstar brother, Blake, is by all accounts, as great of a person and ambassador for the school as his brother is. The difference is that Blake is far from done playing basketball. He will be making millions and chasing championships for years to come in the NBA. His career in basketball is just beginning. Taylor’s career, on the other hand, has reached its sunset. And that’s why I think Blake’s tears today were not so much for himself as they were for his brother.

Taylor also has a bright future ahead of him. From everything we hear and read, it sounds as if Taylor is going to find success in whatever he does. No one should feel sorry for him; he got a free education and got to participate in major college athletics for four years—not a bad deal at all.

But I keep going back to that draped towel.

No matter the circumstances, no matter how fortunate or unfortunate a person may be, it’s always a bit gut wrenching to see something you love come to a conclusion.

Even though it’s pretty apparent that coach Jeff Capel is pointing the program in the direction of more trips deep in the tournament, you still never know if and when you’ll get back to within one game of the Final Four. Even though the talent level at OU appears to be ratcheting up a notch each season, there are no guarantees that any team in the future will be as successful as this one. And that’s why coming up short stings.

I’ll be there next year. I’ll be excited as always when my packet of season tickets arrives in the mail. I’ll be ready for another season of fun, with dreams of March greatness. But I won’t forget a kid like Taylor Griffin and the way he represented my school. I wish he could have culminated his career by playing in the Final Four alongside his brother. But sometimes, the effort trumps the destination. I understand why Taylor draped that towel over his head, but I hope it doesn’t stay there long—he has nothing to be ashamed of. Thanks Taylor, Boomer Sooner.